Homes were strange places.Cal knew that long before Elise invited him into hers, but he experienced a whole new appreciation for the concept after he stepped inside.
It had all the basics he was familiar with from his time in the Aerie and his confinement under the Tower: walls, doors, a mattress he presumed was for sleeping, and a washroom. He’d peered through enough windows in his lifetime to know that Elise had much of what everyone else seemed to have, too, such as comfortable furniture and a vast collection of baubles he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.
However, there were several key differences between what he expected and what he experienced.
First, Elise’s home smelled nice. As soon as he walked through the door — an oddity on its own, considering he had never been invited into a home before — Cal was hit by a pleasant, unnameable fragrance. A blend of her natural, crisp scent and something warmer, it made his stomach tighten with a tension he couldn’t decipher. A far cry from the cold, musty smells of the Aerie and much better than the dank, chemical scent of the Solbourne dungeon.
Second, she didn’t lock the doors or set wards. Elise barely even glanced at her perimeter wards. When he reluctantly stepped into the guest room she provided for him, he half expected her to slam the door and immediately throw up a ward to try and imprison him inside. Despite his eagerness, he was morbidly curious: Would she reveal a true, darker motive behind her story?
It turned out the answer was no.
Elise was sunny and cheerful as she arranged a bed for him, chattering about how she’d been lucky enough to “snag” the apartment, and how her father’s book somehow played into it. He could barely follow the story, since he was too caught up in watching her move and listening to her chipper, fast-paced voice. When she was done, she didn’t even close the door.
She walked out of the guest room, hips swaying in her tight black leggings, and Cal stared after her. He listened to the sounds of her moving about the half-unpacked apartment with growing perplexity.
Yes, he made the deal and intended to follow through with it, but there was a large part of him that still believed she was somehow looking to use him. Even when he stood on that crowded dock and held her hand, he wondered how long it would take for her to show her true intentions.
But Elise hadn’t shown him anything other than genuine kindness. She wanted something from him, but it was nothing he couldn’t afford to lose. What he stood to gain from their deal was worth far, far more than his story.
Cal sat on the edge of the fold out bed. It creaked under his weight, but he barely noticed it as he glanced around the room. The guest room held a few scattered boxes with hasty scrawl across their faces. Spiky handwriting labeled them as ‘office I guess’, or ‘fragile - DO NOT DROP!!’, and even the amusing ‘????’. He didn’t know why that made him smile, nor why seeing it made him feel like he knew Elise a little better.
Cal’s gaze wandered over the haphazard stacks of cardboard to land on her desk. A bulletin board loomed over it, so laden with pinned notes and photos that none of the cork board could be seen. The desk itself was nearly swallowed up by stacks of recycled books and scattered sticky notes. What did it say about her that she seemed to prefer old fashioned pen and paper? Cal didn’t know, but he found it endearing anyway.
Eyes lingering on what looked like a photo of the fog sweeping over the ruins of the Sutro Baths, Cal focused on the sounds of Elise moving around in the kitchen. A door opened with a strange sucking sound, and then there was a smaller clatter of glass knocking against itself.
He could picture the scene perfectly in his mind. How many times had he glimpsed people in their kitchens, moving with a rhythm he didn’t understand? He could imagine Elise standing over a cutting board, knife in hand, as a man slid up behind her to kiss the long line of her throat, fingertips sliding under the hem of her shirt to tickle her skin.
Cal scowled. He didn’t like that image.
Fisting a handful of the blankets she’d so painstakingly laid out for him, he considered the complex question of what he wanted out of this deal and how he planned to get it. She was right that he wanted a home, but he felt in his bones that he wanted something more than that, too. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the vocabulary or experience necessary to define it. A mate was the closest thing he could manage, but even that didn’t feel right.
Kaz explained to him that a mate was something special. Something like a home and a lover and a best friend and a fascinating stranger all wrapped up in one being. Cal hungered for that. He just wasn’t sure he was going about getting it in the right way.
Would Kaz approve of his bargain with Elise? Not that Cal needed the orc’s approval, of course, but he was the only person he could even passingly count as a friend. He was also the only person Cal knew who understood matehood, even if he wasn’t personally mated yet. Orcs held matehood sacred. Though he never understood the appeal in the past, he was beginning to get an inkling as to why so many revered the bond between mates.
What would it be like to be allowed into every corner of someone’s life? Would he see himself in the home as much as he saw Elise in every note, in every breath he took? What kind of privilege was it to be let that close to another being? Cal could barely comprehend the enormity of the questions that circled his mind in agitated gusts. He’d never given himself the luxury of imagining himself in the position he now found himself in.
If he had learned anything since his disastrous birth, it was to follow his instincts. They had yet to guide him wrong, and they were currently telling him that whatever it was he needed, Elise had it. That impulse was clear enough, at least.
Feeling confined, as he usually did when he spent too long in his physical form, Cal stood up from the bed he probably wouldn’t use and followed the sounds and smells coming from the small kitchen.
“I don’t sleep,” he announced, agitated and craving her attention.
Elise froze, a silver spatula poised over two identical sandwiches in a pan. A heartbeat later, the tension unwound from her shoulders. She turned her head to look at him with a baffled smile. “Oh, I didn’t know that. Sorry. Don’t worry about the bed, then.”
Cal prowled closer. The smell of something savory drew him in, as well as the unwavering impulse to be close to her. “I rest, but I don’t sleep like you do. When I dematerialize, I can do something like sleeping, but it’s not the same.”
He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to tell her this, but he did. Perhaps it was because he felt like he’d learned so much about her since he stepped into her home, or maybe it was that hungry thing in him, desperate to be known by someone, anyone. Whatever it was, the words came spilling out without his permission.
She blinked, her smile dimmed only slightly, but otherwise appeared unfazed. Did nothing ruffle her? Surely she didn’t spend enough time with other elementals to take everything he did in stride. There weren’t exactly scores of them dropping out of the sky — as far as he knew, anyway.
He didn’t like how that thought made him feel, either. He wanted to be the only elemental she spent her time with. She was his mate for the time being, wasn’t she? That meant he was hers. He didn’t want to share her even in his imagination.
Feeling vexed and more confused than ever, Cal did the only thing that actually seemed to help his mood. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his hands around her trim, athletic waist. Coils of mist unfurled from the edges of his form to curl around her shoulders and lithe legs, anchoring them together.
That’s better, he thought, releasing a harsh breath. The feeling of constriction vanished when he slid his dematerialized form over her. Magic sparked between them — her innate, stormy nature calling to his own wild energy. Together, they hummed in perfect sync.
We fit, he thought, fingers tightening around her waist.