Page 5 of Little Fangs

“Sure,” I said, nodding to the wide pile I’d cut down for the fire. “Grab some of those and bring them inside. And I’ll make sure to find something better for you to wear. You can’t be walking around in a dirty tank top. I don’t care what you are or what you can do, you’re better than that.”

Micah looked down at himself, and part of me thought I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but he looked like he was in his twenties, and part of me felt the need to take care of him. I just couldn’t see anyone go through hurt or pain, even if they were usually the ones framed for causing it.

He kept quiet, almost like I’d said something to him that hit. He carried wood into the living room for me, placing it in front of the ashes at the fireplace. I headed to the kitchen where I’d already taken out a steak from the freezer to defrost. It was covered in plastic wrap, and the moment I pulled it away, the floorboard whined with a creak.

Micah stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “Hi,” he let out, his lip twitching to smile.

“Hungry?” I asked.

He held his hands at his stomach. “A little.”

“Okay, well, how about I run you a bath first?” I said. “I’m not sending you out there still covered in dirt. I don’t know what’s hurt on you and what’s—”

He smirked, bowing his head slightly. “I healed quickly. I think it’s just dirt.”

“Good. Okay. Well, I—shit. I don’t cross paths with many people like you,” I said. “Anyway. While you’re here, let me show you around. I think you should stay another night, at least. Make sure you’ve got energy.”

Micah’s big eyes blinked at me, as if he was trying to say something.

I showed him around the cabin, asking him to excuse the mess of unpacked boxes. It wasn’t like I had an actual excuse besides not wanting to go through the old memories in some of the boxes, but he didn’t need to know all of that.

“I built most of it with my own two hands,” I said, raising both hands to show him. “I had a couple of other guys around who helped, but all this was me.”

“Whoa. Really?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe it myself,” I said. “Makes you wonder if I could have some type of extra strength.”

He shook his head, serving an immediate blow to my ego. “No, because—” He looked away, as if seeing the disappointment in my face, but I waited for him to come back to it, and back to me. “People like me aren’t usually the most welcoming. So, I—I knew you were human. A human with big muscles.” He smiled.

I knew my strength was no match for him or anyone like him, and I didn’t know why I’d even made the comment. I think I was just trying to impress him.

The cabin was on a single level, all dark pine, with covered front and back porches, making it appear bigger than it was. Although it was big enough for a family. Almost every corner of it was covered in cat hair, boxes of whatnots and whatsits, things I needed for work, and things I hadn’t gotten around to building yet. There was an entire spare room full of boxes I didn’t show him—I never touched those. I’d been living out here for nearly five years, and I think after that, unpacking had stopped being something I wanted to do.

The bathroom had a large tub off to one side and a shower at the other. At the time, I’d been building this place for two, myself and a man I once loved, who decided life with me wasn’t for him any longer, and he’d rather have a life as part of a polycule—which was a new word for me at the time, four years ago, just months after he’d moved in. More reason not to unpack. I knew there were pictures of the two of us in there, and those memories deserved to stay buried and out of sight.

Micah’s was the first other voice to fill the space—besides Misty’s meowing.

As I boiled potatoes and grilled my steak, I listened to Micah. He’d asked to use the bubble bath—which I didn’t know I had—and my haircare products. He was so sweet, I couldn’t even keep the rough line that creased between my eyes. Micah splashed around in the tub, talking to Misty like she could respond. She was obsessed with him, which was unlike her. She was an aloof fluffball around strangers, never letting anyone inside. The door to the bathroom was ajar, and as I passed it briefly, I caught a look at him, stealing a glance at who he was, creating a beard with bubbles. He was adorably strange.

“Do you eat regular food?” I called out to him from the hallway.

“Um. Yeah, sometimes.”

“Are you hungry? I can get you another steak. Grilled maybe,” I said. “I can even season it.”

He giggled. “Okay. I can try it.”

“I’ll—” I pressed a hand over my face, feeling a smile tug at my muscles. “I’ll make sure it’s still bloody for you.”

“Thank you,” he called back to me.

While he bathed, I picked out some clothes for him. I didn’t have anything that would fit, but if it covered him, I doubt he’d mind. He arrived almost naked. I picked out a black T-shirt, some underwear, and shorts with the strings still visible to tighten them—most of them got lost inside the waistband, and he would need to tie them tight to keep them from falling off his body.

I left the clothes for him outside the bathroom in a neat pile. “Whenever you’re ready, let me know and I’ll grill the steaks. They won’t take long,” I said.

“I will, thank you.” And after a moment of complete silence, with panic in his voice he said, “You’re not waiting for me, are you?”

I smiled again, and it was like a new ache. “It’s no problem, I haven’t had a meal with anyone in a while,” I called back. It was nice to hear another voice, and for Misty not to be under my feet whenever I walked anywhere.