Page 2 of On a Pale Horse
“I thought we could use some privacy.”
She stared him down, those deep eyes meeting her own squarely. They had connected over the years, kissed as well, but they had yet to take their relationship further. The abuse he’d suffered at Hel’s hands made it nearly impossible to be truly intimate with him, as much as she wanted to be. She wouldn’t push him on that front. She feared hurting him most in the world.
“Anything in mind?” she prodded.
He opened boxes of food and arranged them in a neat line on the tray. “I have a few ideas.”
Steam and spices blasted her in the face. “Such as?”
The corner of his full lips lifted in a seductive grin. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want it to be a surprise?”
A dumb question. “I don’t like surprises.”
“And won’t tell you.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the playful tone in his voice. It had taken hundreds of years to get him to open up to her. That fact and this presentation of it warmed her from the inside out, giving her hope one day, they might truly be together.
“Well then, let me get comfortable.”
He pointed a pair of chopsticks at the chicken and broccoli box. “You didn’t touch your food.”
For a moment she debated plopping back down and gorging herself on the Chinese. Spending a normal night in with her boyfriend? Friend? Friend without Benefits?
She didn’t even know what to call him. He’d been her constant companion for hundreds of years and yet these last few years, since their relationship changed, she didn’t know what to call him, what to give him, or how to keep him happy.
Her stomach turned, and a heaviness took over her body. She was so tired of all of this.
She pushed the food back toward him. “I want to take a shower. And besides, suddenly, I’m not so hungry.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed but didn’t answer.
Despite his words and his desire, she cared about him too much to jeopardize the progress they’d made over the last century.
“Come find me when you’re done.”
He opened the wooden sticks and rubbed them between his palms to cast off the tiny pieces of wood. She could feel the weight of his gaze all the way down the hall into the bedroom. As much as she wanted him, she wanted him happy and healthy. That required her patience, and it was a small price to pay. Besides, she had other distractions when she found herself particularly impatient.
Persephone’s soft skin under her palm came to mind, and she stripped with a smile, tossing her dress, phone, and knife garter on the bed for later.
She entered the bathroom in her underwear and stared at herself in the mirror. The others assumed she was created when they were. That the horsemen of the apocalypse were one unit. But she’d been alive as long as the world had existed. Where there was life, there was death. She’d taken other forms, other shapes.
This one she enjoyed most. The depth of this form. The longings, desires, and joys made real for her to feel and not feel. Everything was so much more interesting when she could live a life alongside those she escorted. It was difficult sometimes. She made a point of separating herself. Not getting close or attached to humans. She had no desire to escort those she loved to the Underworld. Even more since Hel’s … redecorating.
She took a deep breath and ran a palm up the smooth white skin of her abdomen before reaching around to unlatch her bra. Shaking it off her arms, she hung it on the doorknob before heading into the glass enclosure of the shower to turn on the hot water. She waited a moment for it to warm before taking off her panties and stepping under the hot spray.
It washed over her, warming her, calming her, allowing her to shift off the weight of the world for a few moments. She washed her hair and body before standing under the spray. Time passed, but she didn’t track it, simply spent the moments relaxing and breathing. The sound of the door jerked her attention. Maybe she was imagining things, or the hot water got to her.
She leaned back and allowed the water to soak into her scalp again.
“Can I wash your hair?”
The voice was quiet and probing, but still had the usual effect. She’d already washed it, but this was a new barrier he pushed, and she didn’t want to reject him while he explored his own boundaries.
“Of course.”
She grabbed the shampoo, something with almonds and pomegranates, and handed it to him, trying not to linger over his nude body before turning. His hand lifting the weight of her hair almost made her sigh aloud, but she kept a tight hold on her emotions and reactions.
He was about an inch shorter than her, and she tilted her head back so he could rub his fingers along her scalp. He explored gently, questioningly.
