Two days had passed since I last saw Sylvia, and I was laying in the dirt shadowed by the trees that marked the edge of her back yard. I hadn’t opened the bar, or even been human, since that tragic early noon episode. Guilt had swarmed me, beating against my chest in time to the beat of my self-inflicted misery and anger.
After all, it was foolish of me to think that Sylvia would just blindly accept the fact that I wasn’t human.
My fur rustled in the wind that whipped through the trees and caused large ripples on Sylvia’s pond. Above me, angry storm clouds hung low in the sky, and the sun couldn’t penetrate the dark gray wall. It was almost as dark as night despite being 2 p.m., and my fur was weighted and damp with the telltale signs of a thunderstorm.
A flash behind a window caught my attention, and a huff escaped my maw. Sylvia was constantly on her phone, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. She hadn’t left her house in any way, even refusing to step onto her back porch.
But why would she, just to be reminded that the man that loves her isn’t even a man? Self-disgust picked up my lips, and my claws dug into the soft earth. I’d never hated myself more, and my bear radiated animosity that kept me tense and alert.
“-ut when… s- co-…” My ears twitched as Sylvia’s voice floated to me in wisps on the wind. It was so soft like it wasn’t even there, but my eyelids drifted shut all the same. Her fragments of words weren’t much, caressing the crevices of my brain and teasing me like a starving man imagining an apple. They were enough, though, and my chest deflated sharply in a sigh before they were gone again.
For the first time in two days Sylvia pulled open her backslider, and my bear shoved me back to lock my human consciousness in chains. He was pissed, determined to do the job I couldn’t as he lifted himself from the dirt. The imprint of my bear was set deep; we hadn’t dropped our vigil even to eat.
But Sylvia was suffering, and that meant I suffered too.
Seeing through frosted panes of glass, I stilled as Sylvia emerged from inside her home. Even from so far away I could see her puffy, red-rimmed eyes as they scanned the treeline. She looked pale in the darkness of such a gloomy day, and I winced internally as my bear snorted roughly.
Lumbering out from out spot, my bear held himself high and tall before Sylvia’s gaze landed on him. She only stared as he drew nearer, slowly striding along the edge of the pond. Her lack of reaction gave my beast confidence, and he let out a grunt when he reached the bottom of the steps.
He might’ve been confident, but she was the master right now.
Sylvia took a deep, shuddering breath that was lost in the wind before her head tilted forward in a nod. The action was barely discernible, but it forced my muscles into action. My bear took each step slowly, carefully, waiting for a second or two before taking the next when our mate made no move to stop him.
Once at the top he slunk low, his belly dragging along the porch boards and limbs sticking out awkwardly. In only a few crawling steps he was right before Sylvia, and even crouching down he didn’t need to tilt his head too far up to stare at her face. Her cheeks were rough, her lips thicker than I remembered, and my bear turned on me for it. His harsh mental lash made my mind spasm, and if I had been human, it would’ve brought me to my knees.
Right where I should be.
“Um…” My attention snapped to Sylvia, and my nostrils flared to take in her pretty, floral scent. Holding up her hand like she would an unfamiliar dog, she kept very still as my paws slid out in all directions. On his belly, my bear nosed gently along her fingertips and wrist. Glancing up, he waited for any tiny indication of rejection, but it never came. She just kept staring with wide, blue eyes that seemed even brighter with their red rings. Slipping his tongue out, he carefully licked her pointer finger before she took another harsh breath.
“I saw you… last night… Uh - I made pizza…” Sylvia’s tentative admission brought a warmth to my chest, and my bear finally backed off. He wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t fit through the glass doors. His job had ended, and he retreated to sulk in the back of my mind, alert and ready to punish me for doing even the smallest of stupid things.
Shifting back to my human form, I clenched and released my fists as Sylvia jumped slightly, her hand flying to her chest. Opening her mouth only to close it, she furrowed her brows before deciding not to say anything at all. Turning around slowly, she wandered the few feet to her back door while I followed, blanketed by a thick, heavy silence.
“So… I just… wanted to apologize… for the things I said.” I wasn’t even fully over the threshold before Sylvia whirled back around. Her desperation leaked into her apology, and for a moment my mind went blank. She was saying sorry to me. That just wasn’t right, and the sudden thought left a sour taste on my tongue.
“Sylvia, you had every right to react like that. Believe me, you’re not the first human to push this kind of thing into the realm of crazy.” My gaze sunk down to her injured hand, the one she hadn’t presented to my bear. The dressing was now an off-white color, and the tape was in a different position than I had stuck it. Pursing my lips together, I held back a sigh as memories of her punching her house filled my mind’s eye. “I know this isn’t something you can easily accept. I’m happy to give you whatever you want - however much time you need.”
Once again Sylvia had nothing to say to my offer, and she twisted back around to head for the kitchen. Lately, I’d spent more time here than at my own apartment, and everything was so familiar that a sense of normalcy washed over me. I knew Lucy didn’t mind having the house to herself, and for the first time in days, my shoulders relaxed enough to slump slightly.
We didn’t even make it to the first semi-circular couch before Sylvia was facing me again, and this time her face had more color. The sight made me think that being inside this house gave her courage.
“I’m not leaving Alaska.”