Love Yourself First!

They were drawn to John like a bloatfly to a festering carcass. They were careful about it, though. They waited exactly a minute after Hancock got comfy on his stool before descending upon him with a sweet smile and honeyed words. Their hands never found purchase on Hancock, but they brushed his arm as casually as if done by accident. Hancock greeted them as warmly as anyone else. Flicking a joke here and there, telling them not to work too hard - the usual Hancock concoction of charisma and carefree conversation.

You watched in the corner of your eye as their hands adjusted Hancock's coat and your seething boiled into something white-hot.

But you didn't act on the satisfying image of marching over their and ripping the maid's hand off the mayor. Casting them aside to take their place next to Hancock. Instead, you drowned the nauseous feeling in sour alcohol and stared down at the bar hard enough to burn holes into it.

Charlie floated over and refilled your glass wordlessly. As if sensing his patron's turmoil and was trying to pacify it with more alcohol. The creak and buzz of his mechanics filled your ears and gave you a brief moments respite from the maid's adorable laughter.

You downed your glass' contents and decided you'd rather be anywhere but here now. You thanked Charlie, paid for the extra drink, and gathered your gear that had been sitting by your legs. Maybe a stroll through Goodneighbor on the start of a warm night might break this foul mood of yours. You'd come back later to enjoy a drink or two once you've cooled off.

"Hey, Sunshine, where you off too?" There was no way you could head outside without passing Hancock but you somewhat hoped he was too engrossed in his conversation with the maid to notice you stalking out. But Hancock didn't just spot your departure, he also frustratingly noticed the look in your eye. His smile dimmed and those dark eyes of his softened around the edges. He thankfully didn't ask what was wrong in front of the maid and the other patrons that started to flock to his side.

"Patrol." Was all you replied with and you didn't give Hancock a chance to try and coax you to stay.

Being part of the Neighborhood Watch, it wasn't unheard of for you to take a walk around town. But you weren't exactly a member of the Watch, you mostly just helped out here and there. You were a guard, sure. But you were Hancock's guard more-so than anything. After being hired to keep the man safe some time ago, you loved the town enough to settle down here. Hancock offered you a job by his side and you took it. It was easy enough. The ghoul knew how to take care of himself and had an entire town watching over him. You barely had to lift a finger nowadays. John shot anyone that looked at him funny without hesitation and the Watch cleaned up the rest.

Truth be told, Hancock didn't need you. But like he's said multiple times, 'there's no one else I trust more to watch my back'. So, you stayed.

And so, you walked the streets as night started to fall over the town. You've had a little too much to drink so it wasn't a patrol for trouble. Definitely a patrol to clear your mind. But it was hard too do that when the image of the maid's hand on John's arm strayed through your mind more times than you liked. The memory of their laugh whenever John made a joke; forced and airy. Too sweet to be real. Dammit, they even got John to chuckle at one point. It was maddening.

You told yourself you had no reason to be jealous. John was your friend, your boss. It's not like you owned him. Or that he owed you any sort of special attention. Eventually, you managed to convince your tipsy mind that it wasn't jealousy but a nagging feeling of distrust towards the maid. It was an easy hole to fall into. It was also a less embarrassing reason for you returning to The Third Rail, leaning against the wall outside, as if on watch, and listening to the bustling crowd within.

I'm doing my job. You told yourself over and over again. Watching out for John so he can do whatever he wants peacefully.

But then sometime later, John doesn't come strolling out of The Third Rail like you expected. Instead he comes sauntering down the street, melting out of the dark like a wraith, almost startling you. He smirks when you flinch at his approach. "Caught you by surprise did I? Whatever's on your mind must have your gorgeous head in a twist. I don't think I've ever successfully snuck up on you."

You try not to smile at his joking tone. You hide your amusement behind a roll of your eyes. "Just lost in thought, is all. What are you doing skulking the street at this hour? You're usually a few drinks deep by now."

"Was going to ask you that same question when I found ya." John replied. Taking up the space beside you like he owned it. He then lit up a cigarette of something sweet smelling, the spark of his lighter casting dancing shadows across his burnt features momentarily, the flame giving his dark eyes an almost hellish portrayal, and sucked in a long breath before filling the air in front of you both with smoke. "Go on then, spill it."

You go to refuse. To make up some reason to the foul mood that Hancock has clearly picked up on. But then you hear the maid's laughter through the windows. Light, airy and so full of burnt honey that it makes you cringe at the sound. And like a deathclaw spotting a lone traveler, Hancock jumps on it immediately.

"You don't like the new maid." It's not a question. And he chuckles low in his throat, blowing more smoke into the air. Finding immense amusement when you glower at him. "Aww, come on now. What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing." You snap back and the venomous tone only riles John up more.

"Oh? And that's a problem?" He asks with a playful gleam to his black eyes. He leans against the wall, bracing his weight against his hand that settles just beside your shoulder against the wall. The position almost makes it look like he's trying to trap you between him and the The Third Rail. Forcing you to look at him as he grins in delight to your silence. "Don't tell me my big, scary guard-dog is unsettled by an innocent maid."

That roiling brew of jealousy simmers down a little when he says this. For some reason you find relief in how he refers to you as 'his' guard-dog. You stamp down the buttery feeling in your stomach before it tries to grow too big. "No one is ever innocent. Listen to them," You pause your prickling words to tilt your head towards the door. It gives you some time to brace yourself to look back at Hancock, he's close enough that you smell the berry-like stench from the chems on his breath, when the maid's laughter bubbles out of the bar. So syrupy it makes your jaw clench tight as if the sound is rotting your teeth. "You cannot tell me that's all genuine sunshine and rainbows."

Hancock traps the cigarette between his lips and you suffer the intense stare of a ghoul catching on a lie. You're trapped in his gaze. Drawn in by his dark eyes drinking in something from within the depths of your mind. As if he can reach into the deepest parts of your head and drag the truth from you on his own. You hold his gaze but your body betrays your act of bravado. You fidget. You shift from one foot to the other, merely readjusting your weight on your feet, but Hancock catches it. He sucks in a long, slow breathe and snatches the chem out of his mouth, exhaling so the smoke passes your face but doesn't choke your lungs. "You wanna try that again?"

Hancock expertly hides the demand under a look that's playful but serious. But you feel every word like the beat of a drum. His tone rattles your resolve. His unwavering stare crumbles the walls you haphazardly have placed between you and whatever this was you felt towards him. You sigh heavily. Using the breath as an excuse to gather yourself and come up with something that doesn't completely out you to him. But gives Hancock enough truth to release you from this torment.

"I don't like them near you." Was what your mind came up with. And you roll with it. "I don't like how they act around you. Like they're sucking up to you. And I know you can sniff out a backstabber a mile away but I'm still keeping an eye on them."

Hancock tilted his head towards The Third Rail door and when his eyes left your face, you felt your legs try to buckle from relief. You were pretty sure it was thanks to the wall you were leaning on that you didn't end up on your ass at Hancock's feet.

"You think they're up to something?" Hancock asks.

"I think they want something." You reply and you don't need to point out what that something is. Hancock was smart enough to pick between the lines.

He grins and finishes the cigarette-like chem before flicking it to the ground and crushing it under his boot. "They're not my type. I enjoy the odd sweetie now and again but… well, they're not the candy I'm craving." If you were in your right mind, you would have taken that heated look from him as the hint you needed. The way Hancock's gaze drank in every inch of you from your eyes, straying over your lips, down along your waist to the belt that held your holster in place - oh yeah, you would never mistake John's friendly conversation to someone else as flirting.

But your mind was still muddled with alcohol and riddled with frustration towards the maid inside. So, you missed the look because you glanced at the bar's door when a trio of patrons stumbled out into the night air. Too drunk to spot the mayor and his guard having a moment in the shadow of the street.

But at least you were no longer as jealous as before.

"Exactly. But in any case, if you get a chance, go and meet the new guy. He's a bit timid but seems nice." David continued to prattle on. Even going as far as sliding into the chair behind you, taking up the space by the empty desk in your room like he owned it. He changed the subject to a conversation you remember having yesterday. Mundane things. A conversation about your weekends compared to his. As much as you adored David and his bubbly personality, you were glad when a bulbous pink form slid into the expanse of your doorway. David didn't distract you per-say, but it did make working on certain documents harder when you were trying to be a good friend and listen to his tale of clubbing escapades.

Alder, a Slime, almost reached the ceiling in his condensed form. His bubble-gum pink mass reminded you of a strawberry smoothie come to life. In the office, he tried to replicate a humanoid form. And he did really well in that regard. You could make out the rounded shoulders and soft, protruding belly. His arms were sometimes a little too long but mostly he got the shape correct. His face was always different and looked more like someone's loosely traced drawing of a face rather than a detailed sketch.

He also smelled amazing. A mixture between warmed pastries and vanilla. The office always smelled pleasant because of him.

"Hey, y/n, do you have a minute?" Alder asked. His voice was at first hard to understand. The voice he mimicked was of the Scottish man who had first helped him learn Human speech and mannerisms - but it came from deep within him. As if he had swallowed said Scottish man and he was now talking through the globulous form that was Alder.

You were use to his mumbling accent by now and didn't need him to repeat himself like back when you first started working here. "Sure." You smiled, turning in your chair towards Alder.

"They lie." David grinned. Leaning back so far in his chair you had half the thought the chair might break under him. "They're overloaded with work."

"And it looks like your underloaded." Alder quipped back with the same lightheartedness. But David sensed the seriousness beneath the joking tone. "Either you go do your job or I hand you half of y/n's."

You've never seen David rise out of a chair and vacate a room so quickly. Alder shifted his form around the room doorway enough that David could slip by him without getting any of the slimy residue Alder secreted on his shirt. Once he was gone, Alder returned to his somewhat humanoid form. And his play-dough like expression wavered into something akin to gentle concern. "How are you doing with it all? Making progress?"

You blew a heavy breath through your lips, making a rather rude noise in the process, and shrugged. "I'm doing ok. I'm going to have to prioritize certain jobs and manage my time heavily…but I should get it all done."

The slime made a noise similar to a bubble of air passing through water. "So… if I were to add another job onto your plate…"

Your glare was a mixture of frustration and exasperation. You tried to keep your smile playful but the rising irritation made it seem a little bitter. "How…difficult would this job be?"

The slime sighed, a gaping hole opening up where his mouth would be if he was human, and stepped into your office space to close the door behind him. "The new guy is adjusting well and is learning the ropes quickly. But…there's no easy way to say this without sounding specifically primal - but he is causing a stir amongst the other monsters."

You waited for Alder to continue but he must have been waiting for your response first. "Ok…and…you want me to do what?"

"Don't tell anyone this but you're my favorite because you treat Monsters no differently." Alder said very casually. Like he was stating a fact off your report rather than giving you a compliment. "Over the years we've worked together, you helped a lot of Monsters adjust to this nine to five life and there's many here that appreciate it. And I'd really appreciate it if you…help others see that this Creature isn't going to hurt anyone. They don't need to fear being prey."

The Monster-Human merge was a relatively new shift. Humans have known about Monsters for centuries, sure, but the integration of the less Humanoid creatures was still being adjusted too. Weres, Fae-like creatures and beings, hybrids and monsters that had some sort of human-like appearance or could appear Human, came first. Then came those that even other Monsters tried to stay away from.

Monsters from the depths of nightmares. Boogyemen, Undead, beings born from evil and shadow - creatures that would normally prey on anything they could wrap their teeth around…they started to emerge with similar interests as the rest of them.

Life.

They wanted to live in peace and live in luxury.

There was a lot that went into a Monster's integration into the Human world. Meaning that this new guy would not have passed any sort of test if he had a knack for preying on everything they came across. But hearing that even the Monsters of the office were made uneasy - did tickle a little bit of worry in you.

What type of creature scares Monsters? You pondered offhandedly.

"If you like, I can introduce you to them first." Alder said and you really appreciated how soft he sounded. "They're our first Ancient Monster and I know you haven't met one yet. So, if you're hesitant, I won't force you. But they're sweet. Promise."

Alder was always careful when discussing work dynamics. He once told you that he worked in the Human-Monster Program, HMP, as part of the pairing unit - people who partner up Monsters with Humans to help them better adjust to their new life in the city. He had a knack for reading people and working out personality nooks and crannies. Within two days Alder knew where you fit best in his business. And ever since, you've thrived under his care.

So, when Alder told you that this new guy was sweet, you didn't pass that has some reassuring comment. He meant it. "No, no, I'd be happy to help them. What have you got them doing?" You stood and Alder took that as an invitation to take you to his new hire. On the way, he explained that the new guy was blind and used his many limbs - tentacles - to work at his desk. And most of the jobs Alder had given them kept them there while they got use to the hustle and bustle of an office environment. Alder also gave a small side comment about hoping the other workers in the office might do the cordial thing and introduce themselves. But it appears this new hire had an aura that kept most people away.

You weren't sure what you imagined with the little details Alder gave. You got the image of a Kraken, they walked along the ground like Nagas did. But instead of a tail, their tentacles dragged their body across the ground and had an upper-half like a human. You remember reading somewhere that Krakens use to consume other Monsters too - back in the day. But you doubted this small three story building could house a Kraken. Even if magic was used to help make them smaller.

When Alder brought you into the main office space, however, you did spot the new hire right away. But there were no Kraken - they were similar in some aspects, however. They towered over everyone around them. Even shoved into their little cubicle, it was as if a mountain was sitting in the center of the office. And now you understood Alder's small descriptions. This Monster wasn't some half-human with tentacles as legs or the majority of their body - they were tentacles. You didn't spot a single part of them that wasn't a twitching limb. And there wasn't a section amongst the mass of writhing appendages that suggested they converged from one spot either. They looked, too put it simply, like a tangle of snakes with no heads. In the bright lights of the office, their skin held a deep purple color. Near black but with a soft sheen of violet that bled into a pale lilac shade along the underside of each limb.

"Hey Laz, just checking in. You doing ok?" Alder greeted the large being with a lopsided smile - due to his semi-liquid face beginning to droop from his relaxed state of mind - and then gestured with a nod to you beside him. "I want you to meet someone. This is y/n. Y/n, meet Lazarus, our new hire. They'll be helping out in the finance department once they get use to the computer baubles."

The large mound of flesh and writing limbs turned towards you. You didn't see any eyes peek out from between the twisting mass, but you felt a sensation settle over you. A sense of perception… a heavy weight of observation that made you suppress a shiver and force you to spread your lips into a smile. You stuck out your hand automatically. "Hi! Nice to meet you!"

Before you could think twice about whether or not this creature could see your outstretched hand, a small thin-like limb snaked out from the mass and tangled itself around your palm. In the back of your mind, you expected them to be cold and feel like a snake - smooth, bordering slimy, but not with any residue. Instead your fingers were met with warmth and solid muscle. In that brief contact, you felt the texture of their skin was not unblemished. But held many small bumps that were almost imperceptible to the eye and scraped against your hand with the slightest movement.

"Hello. It is nice to meet you." Like all Monsters fresh out of the HMP, Lazarus had that near robotic way of talking. Each word and syllable was carefully pronounced, as if they were reading the greeting off a script with no theater experience. "I'm doing fine, Alder, sir. I'm just finishing up. These…baubles, as you jokingly call them, are much nicer than the HMP ones. They're fast too."

You looked up at Alder who nodded. Sighing as if reminiscing over an old memory. "Ah yes, you could almost compare those computers to dial-up."

"I don't know what that is. But I'll take your word for it." Lazarus said and moved their whole body in a slight mimic of a nod. Unlike Alder, this creature's voice didn't muffle or seem to mimic anyone. It did however brush cold tendrils over your mind. It was strange. You weren't sure where this anxious feeling was coming from, but the more you listened to this creature speak, the more unsettled you became. You looked up at them, listening to the conversation between Alder and Lazarus, and tried pushing down the nagging feeling of - run.

"Y/n here is drowning in work and is looking for a second." Alder said and the redirection of Lazarus' attention to you snapped you out of your thoughts. "They're patient. And the work is simple enough, if you're up for it, of course. I know it's your first day, so I understand if you'd prefer to stay at your desk and work on what we've given you."

You offered the creature a smile and nodded along to Alder's words. Adding in your own. "It'll just be some filing and sorting work. All physical, if you'd like a break from the computer."

Behind Lazarus, you noticed that one of your work-colleagues perked their ears up when you started talking. Then their feline face popped up over the cubicle side, looking at you quizzically. Alder couldn't see them. Lazarus' form was blocking them from your boss. So the slime didn't see the look of 'you ok?' pass between you and Amilcia, the Serval Tabaxi. Who, you noticed, had shifted her desk a little away from the wall that separated her from Lazarus' side.

You ignored them. Keeping your attention wholly on Lazarus as a small clicking sound emanated from deep within their tangle of arms. "Sure. I'd like to try something new. If you are comfortable with me being in your space, y/n." The question was asked so bluntly that it took you off guard.

Do they know that they're making people uncomfortable? You wondered quickly.

"I don't mind at all!" You beamed. A little more sugary than how you would normally reply. But trying to shove down the sudden rise in unneeded nervousness and attempting to showcase your willingness to be friendly was quite the challenge. "I'm open to any questions as well. If you need some answering." Alder left you to guide Lazarus back to your little corner office - making small talk along the way until you returned to your space.

You directed Lazarus to a corner that was loaded with boxes. Which they found full of paper and plastic folders. "Alder said you'd be going into financing, right?" You asked. Coming up beside Lazarus as they slipped their many limbs into various boxes. Feeling their way through the large assortment of cardboard dexterously. "A lot of this is from that department. Ever since the people there left, I've kind of been picking away at what they left behind."

"From what I understand there was an altercation?" Lazarus asked and you felt that cold dread feeling wash over you again. You weren't sure how, but you knew it was them looking at you…however they observed you through the tangle of tentacles.

"Yes. It's kind of hush-hush around here. But they left a mess for everyone else to clean up once they realized they were being fired. So far, I'm the only person that can sort through it reliably. I use to work in the finance department before I was moved here. To the HMR."

"HMR?" Lazarus asked. The cool, low drone of their voice sounded out the letters slowly - like a harsh whisper. But clear and loud enough for you to hear their question.

"Human-Monster Resources." You explained. "I look after our people here and make sure everyone is comfortable. At the moment though, Alder has taken over my job and I've been shifted into cleaning up the finance mess. Which, if you're confident, can help by sorting the documents. By date and department, preferably." You waited for Lazarus to confirm or deny the job. But they continued to wash the tips of their tentacles over the boxes. Taking their time to smooth the underside of the limbs over the paper and coaxing the pages apart with gentle caresses. "I know it's a lot. Especially if this is your first job-"

"I am happy to help." Lazarus suddenly said. Startling you into silence. "Sorry. I sometimes forget…how conversations work." The tentacles twisted around the outside of the mass, curling…almost sheepishly. "I forget I have to speak out loud for you to hear me."

"Ah." You said with an understanding nod. "That's ok."

"I worked a few jobs at the HMP before I felt confident enough to get a job in the city." Lazarus continued. A particularly thick tentacle slithered out from the depths of their mass and carefully picked up and moved a box down onto the floor. Allowing them to get to the box beneath it. "I sorted files and helped with some documentation needs. You said you'd like them sorted by date?"

"And department. They're mostly invoices and receipts, but if you find any documents that are not financial just put them to the side and I can have them sent to the right department." You instructed and the large mass tilted in acknowledgement. "There's some spare folders on the desk to your right that you can use. And if you need anything else, don't be afraid to ask. I'm going to be working on their digital files and information here too."

"This seems like a lot of work for one person." Lazarus commented, already starting piles of paper on the desk beside them. "You were doing this by yourself before I arrived?"

"Mostly." You replied. Taking a seat at your desk, you nudged the mouse and brought the computer back to life. "There's some others in the office that have experience with this. But they have their own work to deal with. I was just filling in until Alder hired some more people."

"I sense not a lot of people like me here." Lazarus said and your fingers froze on the keyboard. The rustling of paper was suddenly deafeningly loud in the small room. "That Tabaxi woman, my office neighbor, is worried about your safely."

You scoffed lightly. Hoping the creature knew you were trying to keep the conversation light. "They're just not use to new people, is all."

"I know you're trying to comfort me, but I don't mind." Lazarus hummed. It was an odd noise. You felt the words more than heard them. A tremble in the air that tickled your ears on a pitch that your mind somehow transformed into words. "I know what I am. I was warned at the HMP that it might be more difficult for me here. But I like a challenge."

You bit your lip but didn't ask what you wanted to ask. Instead you offered some menial excuse that you were here to help in anyway. And Lazarus acknowledged your comment with a soft whoosh like sound that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

~*~

It took considerable will-power to concentrate on your work while Lazarus was in the room with you. There was no excuse for your unease. The creature worked diligently beside you. Building neat piles of documents and folders which were carefully placed in order of date and in sections categorized by department. They didn't make small talk. Focused purely on their work while the tapping of your fingers against the keyboard filled the room.

They didn't do anything or say anything that made you feel nervous. It just seemed to be them. Which was a thought that made you feel incredibly guilty. Enough that when it was time for your lunch-break, you offered to show Lazarus the outside staff area. It was like an olive branch in your mind. Not that the new hire knew about your inner turmoil of 'GET AWAY FROM IT' and the impressed 'by the Gods, they're flying through this work!'

"If you want company on your lunch break that is." You added quickly. "I know some people like their space-"

"You mean some Monsters like to consume their food without a Human nearby." Lazarus said and it sounded like he was correcting you. Not in a malicious way. Just in a 'it's ok, you can say the M-word' type of way. "Thank you. But I would prefer to eat my lunch alone. I mean no offense."

You waved away their words. "Nonsense. You're allowed your own space. You can pretty much eat anywhere in the office. But there is an outdoor area and a staff kitchen if you need it."

Lazarus thanked you and you left them to finish what they were doing and decide on their lunch time themselves.

While heating up your food in the staff kitchen, David swooped upon you like a vulture on a fresh carcass. All eager questions and curious comments. "I heard Alder put you on a case with the new hire. They're cool weird, right? A couple of the Ms on the first floor say they recognize his type. But they're keeping pretty tight-lipped about it."

You sighed, stirring your coffee while watching your leftovers go round and round in the microwave. "They're hard working. And…yes, very cool weird." You offered David a small smile and he returned it with a large one of his own. "They know they're not very welcome at the moment. Apparently Amelcia is worried for my safety."

David frowned at that. "She told you that?"

"They told me." You corrected him. Removing your food from the microwave once it dinged. "Lazarus, the new hire, told me. I think they can…sense things? I'm not sure. But they're pretty blunt, which is nice. And they don't seem worried about their stance among the other Ms. But Amelcia did give me a look when I was talking to Lazarus the first time. And she did looked worried."

"Amelcia is a scaredy-cat, no pun intended. We all went to the movies once and she left at the first sign of creepy music. I think the new hire is just a little too close to 'things that go bump in the night' for her. Which by the way, is very cool. But I don't know how to slip that into a compliment without sounding weird. That coming from a demi-human might not come across right." David yammered on, pouring himself his own mug of coffee while pondering his own thoughts.

"I think it's too early to have a say on that." You nodded. "But, like I said, they're blunt and don't seem the type to beat around the bush. So, maybe you could ask if they're comfortable with that sort of language." Then you looked up at David and he met your quizzical gaze over the rim of his coffee. "You've spoken with them, yeah?"

David nodded. Leaning against the kitchen counter as you carried your steaming lunch over to the table by the corner of the room. "Yeah. Had too. I'm technically their handler while they're on their probation period here at the office. Why?"

"Do you…" You glanced at the door, hating that it felt like you were gossiping when all you really wanted was an answer to something simple. "Do you get…spooked…around them?"

David crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head towards the ceiling in thought. Though David was constantly joking and making light of a situation, when brought into a serious conversation, he released his class-clown act. "No. Not that I can recall. At first there was something but I think that was just me and my inability to talk to new people. You know.. because of my very secret social anxiety that I cover up with jokes and sarcasm because of my childhood trauma."

You nearly choked on your lunch. "I see therapy has started to pay off."

"Worth every damn penny." David saluted you with his mug and left you to enjoy your lunch in peace.

When your hour of lunch came to an end, you made your way back to your little office and found that strange, curdling feeling fill your chest - tightening with every step you took towards your office. It had you stalling a few steps down the hallway. A sense of danger that had your hairs on the back of your neck began to raise and cause goosebumps to skim along your arms.

What type of creature is Lazarus to have such an effect? You wondered both in awe and complete confusion. You've mingled with creatures that had some magical aura before. A strange shimmer that you could feel with your hands or something your mind could sense but you couldn't see. It was strange and exhilarating all at the same time. A sense of wonder would follow these moment in you. Because, let's face it, it was cool. But that was magic.

This was not that. This sense of dread twisted around you like a fog. It didn't try to lure you in or push you away…you just felt a sudden sense of danger. Like your body knew something threatening was down the hall and to the left - in your office.

You shook free of the feeling and marched down the corridor. Stubbornly ignoring your racing heart and mind - you are fine! You snarled at yourself. Stop being such a baby.

You turned the last corner and almost crashed nose first into a glowing tiny figure. You both yelped loudly and your face was blasted by fine warm dust and wind. You coughed and spluttered, your eyes stinging with the onslaught of sand-like material coating your vision. When you blinked, the world in front of you swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors you didn't recognize. You had to put a hand on the wall next to you to keep your balance or else loose your footing entirely.

"Oh! Y/N, I'm so sorry!" A pixie, Lucy, squealed and you felt her tiny hands on your cheeks. Brushing away the shiny gold dust off your skin as best she could. "I just came looking for you in your office and that-that thing answered the door and-"

You could taste the honey-sweet sand on your tongue and you tried not to spit it out. Purely because you didn't want to get anything on the poor fretting fairy. "Holy fuck…is this what it's like to do drugs?" You half-laughed, still blinking rapidly to try and clear your eyes. "Did you…forgive the implications - but did you just dust me like an inking squid?"

"Don't laugh!" Lucy exclaimed pathetically. Her little wings filled the air with a low hum as she floated away from your face. "You startled me!"

"You ran into me!" You retorted playfully, giving your face one last wipe with the back of your hand. Finally able to see, you looked at Lucy as she hovered a few feet away from your face. She was the size of your palm with beautiful iridescent gold wings that reminded you a lot of a dragon-fly. She wore her usual dusty rose pants-suit and her long flowing silver hair was braided into a rope down her left shoulder. The air still shimmered with the cloud of pixie-dust that she had blasted you with. "There's a first for everything, I guess. I'm kinda amazed you haven't done that to me before. You're easy to scare."

"Stop making fun of me!" Lucy stomped her foot in the air like a disgruntled kid. "I really am sorry! I just…I went to your office and…" She trailed off but it was clear by her pale features and wide, terrified expression that no one had warned her of who was sharing your office.

"Did you introduce yourself?" You asked and Lucy balked so hard she almost dropped out of the air.

"N-No…I kind of…" She twisted her fingers together. Looking so sheepish and guilt-ridden that any teasing you thought of giving was pushed aside. You could guess what happened. Then in a really quiet voice, Lucy whispered. "They're massive! Like…I'm use to people being mountains in comparison to me…but that thing-"

"Lazarus." You corrected her. Now slipping into your HMR persona.

There were certain phrases that were allowed in polite conversation. Monster was the general term for many creatures. There were variations of the name but it differed from creature to entity. Demi-Human classified a being that looked more human but still had some characteristics that portrayed otherwise. Hybrid was a title saved for beings that you could split down the middle between human and creature. Thing was not a categorization nor a noun that was commonly used politely or with good intentions. So, when it was uttered, you snipped it in the bud before anyone could try and use it.

It was rude. And to hear someone like Lucy use it, it boiled your blood just a little.

"R-Right, I didn't know its name so um-"

"Well, we can remedy that." You said with a curt nod and stepped around the small Demi-Human. "Come on. You can meet our new work colleague."

You didn't give Lucy a chance to try and wriggle her way out of it. No amount of excuses or 'I have a lot to do' could save her from your hard stare and the pointed look towards your office door. Which had closed since you left. So not to startle Lazarus, you knocked quietly and eased the door open. They were in the center of the room with a new pile of boxes open before them. You noticed that the desk beside them, which had once held plenty of stacks of paper, were now empty. And there was the scent of cake in the air.

Alder had obviously visited.

"Hey, Laz, I want you to meet someone. Lucy, this is Lazarus. He'll be working in finance once his training is complete." You beamed a smile over at Lucy, silently encouraging her to flutter her way over to Laz.

The poor little thing seemed to tremble in the air. Her wings pulsed with a soft white light and when she forced her tiny hand to reach towards Lazarus - her whole arm shook. "H-Hi! I'm..I'm sorry I ran off before. I just didn't expect...um.. you."

You didn't realize Lazarus had been slouched over until the large mass suddenly grew an extra foot - almost brushing the ceiling with their…head? The top of their writhing body…the top most tentacle almost touched the ceiling, was what you were trying to say in your head.

That air of forboding thickened as Lazarus slid across the room towards you both and you planted your feet in place. Refusing to flinch as Lazarus reached you. Lucy didn't fair as well as you. Because a soft whimper dribbled from their lips but they too held firm. And when a tiny - and you did mean absolutely tiny - tentacle slipped out from between the larger ones, Lucy squeaked when it curled around her hand.

"It is nice to meet you." The words were carried on a clicking purr like noise. It was an odd sound. But somehow you knew it was a sound of amusement. "And do not worry. I'm use to fae-kind reacting that way to me. It is instinctual, afterall." They spoke so softly and you even glimpsed their massive frame shrink a little. "I'm sorry I frightened you."

Lucy released a breath she was holding as the small limb detangled itself from her fingers and disappeared back into the folds of Lazarus' form. She seemed to immediately relax. "Oh! I…Well, that's a relief. But it doesn't excuse my behavior." Lucy shot you a glance over her shoulder. And you nodded in a small form of encouragement. "We're workmates, afterall. I have no reason to be scared of you."

"Correct. But centuries of instincts based on self-preservation can't be ignored just because we started working together." Lazarus said and some of his thicker limbs curled over each other. Mimicking Lucy's nervous hand movements. "You have nothing to fear from me. I promise. But I do understand your reaction to my presence."

Lucy nodded. Sighing in some form of relief before welcoming Lazarus to the office and excusing herself. But before she got any further than a few feet away from your door, you called out to her. "Wait! Lucy, you said you were looking for me?"

"Oh! Right, yes." Lucy came zipping back, hovering just beyond the threshold of your room. "Alder is looking for a report from February with the office invoices for that party he organized. Something about someone not being paid but he remembers paying them, blah-blah. Have you seen it?"

You shook your head and then turned to Lazarus hopefully. "Have you come across anything from Feb like that?"

Lazarus' limbs slowed their twitching motions. A few even pressed together like hands praying, kind of like they were touched together in thought. "I haven't seen any specific reports during February. Come to think of it…February has had quite the lack of documentation."

Lucy's wings made a twinkling noise of worry. "Really? Oh, that could be bad. That month was full of purchases made through the business."

You waved away Lucy's worry. "We'll find it. Go tell Alder that I'm on the look out for it. It'll be fine."

The pixie nodded and zipped away in a cloud of fine dust. A cloud you quickly closed the door on before it managed to spread onto the carpet of your office. Pixie-dust was frustratingly hard to remove from carpet.

"She seems nervous." Lazarus said. "Would she get in trouble if we don't find that report?"

"No. She's just very particular about-" You turned to face Lazarus and suddenly realized how close they were to you. They towered over you. Casting a shadow across your frame since their mass blocked out much of the lights on the ceiling and the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Suddenly cornered between them and the door - you came to realize how small you were compared to them. How easily they could consume you if they wanted too. "- Uh.. sorry." You shook your head of the worrying thoughts and breathed in deeply to settle your nerves. The you smiled up at Lazarus. "She's just very particular about her reports. She gets overwhelmed easily."

Lazarus must have accepted that answer. Because they slipped further into the room. Back into their spot surrounded by boxes. "Well…I guess we should start looking."

Your computer was abandoned. You could catch up on what you needed done tomorrow. But right now, you were neck deep in paper and cardboard. You sat opposite Lazarus on the floor, carefully rummaging through each printed copy of some invoice or report - combing the inked words for what you were looking for. After two hours of this, you felt like you were going cross-eyed.

Groaning heavily, draping your arms over a large plastic container, you stretched your sore back and grumbled under your breath. "I'm going to kill whoever printed these out and muddled them up like this."

That otherworldly clicking noise echoed from deep within Lazarus' tentacles. They held five different pages gently cradled in their arms. Each was slowly stroked by a tip from another limb, reading the finely imprinted letters like braille. "Am I right in assuming this was not meant to be like this?"

You shook your head, huffing an exasperated sigh. "No. The finance workers beforehand did not like being fired. So before their last week, they printed everything out in secret. Muddled the filing cabinets and then deleted as much as they could before leaving. We still have everything. It's just…scattered."

Lazarus' arms shifted around him and he placed each page delicately into their respective piles. Then he reached for more and before you could move your arms out of the way, a thick, heavy tentacle slithered over your skin and dipped into the box you were currently leaning on. You froze. Momentarily stunned by the warm touch and the strange sensation of a tentacle wriggling across your arms until he scooped up a pile of papers. There was a strange smoothness to the underside of the thick tentacle. Unlike the topside, it didn't hold any bumps or light ridges. It felt similar to the underside of your arm. Just more supple. Like a..it sounded strange, but like a well moisturized palm.

Goosebumps dusted your skin where they had touched you and you couldn't stop the shiver that rippled down your spine. Despite their presence holding some sort of dread, their touch was rather pleasant.

Lazarus must have sensed something, maybe your staring or the shift of something in the air - because a moment later you felt the weight of their gaze settle on you. "Is something wrong?"

"No!" You were quick to reassure him. And your outburst seemed to startle them. Because their tentacles twisted tightly in response. "Sorry. I'm fine. Your tentacle startled me, is all."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend if I did." Lazarus muttered. Their voice was a slow drawling whisper that made your chest thunder with your racing heart. "You were open to touch when we first met so I assumed you do not mind."

It took you a moment to realize that he meant the handshake. And he had considered that as an open invitation for touch. "I don't mind. I'm just not use to Monsters openly doing so. Many are quite timid about it."

Lazarus lifted an unoccupied tentacle, one of the larger ones on the outside of his mass, and curled it in the air. The tip shook violently, reminding you of a rattlesnake tail. "It's how my kind communicate. We use vibration to speak, see and listen. We're not shy about touch and sometimes I forget that that isn't the norm up here."

"Up here?" So many questions flew through your mind. Most Monsters you've encountered spoke as any Human would. Those that didn't have vocal cords but the sentience to understand language conversed through Sign or telepathy. You've never heard of a creature communicating through touch before. But you've also never heard of a Monster's hint to their time before entering Human Society. Many were tight lipped about it or shared similar stories. Lazarus' mention of 'up here' intrigued you most of all.

"The city." Lazarus explained but didn't seem to offer anymore than that. Then the trembling limb lowered and tilted towards you. You took the invitation to place your hand upon their limb and the tentacle twisted around your palm gently. You felt an odd vibrating sensation pass through your fingers and down along your arm. You couldn't work it out…but it felt like a warm greeting. You stared at the tangled limb between your fingers, trying to listen to this source-less voice that rang through your head.

"You're thinking too much." Lazarus said and with this skin-to-skin contact you felt his sheepishness. The soft demeanor that twisted that wailing, whisper-like tone of theirs into something softer. Something shy. "Don't focus on the feeling…but, um…focus on me talking. Not too hard, though. Or else you'll lose the connection…sorry.. I'm terrible at explaining it."

You could…somewhat understand what he was trying to say. If you didn't think about the way your hand held his limb, you could make out that he was embarrassed by his lack of understanding of his own biology. But then it was followed by a clearer picture of understanding of his biology and the frustration towards their inability to explain themselves.

It was confusing and made sense at the same time. "I think…I get it…" You said and Lazarus removed his tentacle from your hand. The sudden lack of his touch transformed his voice back into that nightmarish tone.

"It's easier for me to convey emotions and meaning when I'm touching someone. But I understand not everyone is ok with holding a tentacle." Their voice was dry and lightless. But the way it rattled on that clicking sound? You were starting to understand that they were laughing. That he had attempted a joke.

You smiled and chuckled along with him. "You're the first Monster I've met that can do that. Are there…more like you that want to enter Human Society?"

His response was too fast. And the responding stillness that overtook his form startled you more than the answer. "No. No one else wants to try living on the surface." It was clear that Lazarus didn't want to answer anymore questions about his kind. So you let the conversation fall away and instead picked up answering any questions he had about the workplace.

By the end of the work day, you found one piece of paper documenting an invoice from February. It wasn't the one you were looking for but it was a start. When you delivered the news to Alder, his form became more globulous as he slouched in his own way. Weighed down by a sudden wave of exhaustion and irritation. "It would be far too simple to find all the invoices in one folder, right?" Alder's voice bubbled from within himself in a huffing tone of sarcasm. Then he regained some of his form and offered Lazarus a lopsided smile. "I'm sorry your first day was nothing exciting, Laz. And I'm sorry to ask this, but could you continue to help y/n until we have this mess sorted?"

The mass of tentacles shivered in waves across Lazarus' form. Then the mass dipped in a nod. "It was no issue, Alder. And I don't mind. Y/n has been an excellent teacher so far. Patient and kind. I'd ask for nothing more from a work colleague."

You beamed at Alder under Lazarus' praise. Happy to hear that the Monster didn't find your probing questions too annoying. Alder in return seemed more than satisfied to hear this. "Amazing! Then I'm sure I can leave you in y/n's capable hands while you work with them. But if you need anything, don't be afraid to come to me, alright?"

Lazarus nodded and you bid Alder a good rest of his day before leading the way out of the building. Lazarus gathered his things from his cubicle, which consisted of a small brown leather backpack and a massive water-bottle that was half-drunk, and followed you out onto the street of a bustling city afternoon. The carpark to the building was swarming with Monsters and Humans leaving for home. A few Monsters opened their wings and took to the air while you spied one or two simply blinking out of existence with teleportation magic. Then there was the Humans, who went to their respective vehicles or began their walk home.

"Thank you for being so nice today." Lazarus' tone was a complete contrast to the kind words he spoke. "I was worried today would be full of awkward interactions and some misunderstandings, but you made my first day very enjoyable."

You smiled and practically buzzed with happiness with their words. "Likewise. Thank you for putting up with my million questions. And in future, please, if get irritated with my curiosity, let me know. I'm sometimes too nosey for my own good."

Lazarus laughed. Filling the air around you with the strange clicking sound. "I'll run you a deal. If I can ask my million questions about Humans, I'll answer your million questions about my kind."

You almost gasped in surprise. There were Monsters who didn't mind talking about themselves, some even boasted it, but it was rare to find one who would simply open up about their species. It varied being to being, sure, but the Ancient Monsters were notorious for being tight-lipped about their kind. "Deal! I'll see you tomorrow then." You held out your hand and you were elated when he met your touch almost instantly. You felt a rush of excitement from them. A shiver of intrigue and buttery warm joy flowed from their touch to yours.

Friend. Seemed to be the word that your mind was trying to comprehend from all the excitable swirling emotions. And you tried, not sure if you were doing it right, to pass your own excitement towards Lazarus.

"You are so close to getting it right." Lazarus chortled and his tentacles twisted and tangled together in a display of glee to your emotions. "But we'll work on it. I'll have you communicating like a Monster in no-time."

Thank you for reading!

Every morning you'd meet Bjorn's honey sweet greetings with a jib of your own. A smile to match, of course, because how could you not smile at a man like Bjorn?

But something about the metaphorical storm cloud that was Bjorn stalking around the village stayed any wit you commonly gave. 

You weren't the only one who noticed, either. On your way to work a few townspeople stopped you with questions circling Bjorn's sour mood. You could only offer your own quizzical shrug and comments. 

When you finally reached your workshop, you felt as frustrated as Bjorn looked. 

“Every man and his dog stopped me today to ask about Bjorn.” You grumbled to your business partner, Selk. “Why is everyone asking me?”

“Well it's no secret Bjorn is sweet on you.” Selk chuckled. The Satyr seemed to find amusement in your irritation. “If anyone knows why the milk curdles when he walks past, it would be you.”

Well, that was true. But in a slightly different way than what Selk was thinking. Because yes, Bjorn was sweet on you. And admittedly, you weren't free of the fluffy feelings either. But because of a certain night a few days ago, something had shifted between you and Bjorn.

You don't remember much of it admittedly. Far too many drinks and a belly full of warm food on a celebratory night led to a shoddy memory of your body on top of a plush set of thighs. Massive paw-like hands guiding your hips and a messy tangle of tongues and lips in a shadowy corner of town. 

The next morning had brought a clear ache of what transpired. But you woke up alone and in your own bed. 

After that Bjorn had been…distant. Thankfully, it wasn't just you who felt this new chilling mood from the big man. Even the local kids received less warmth than normal. 

You shook your head. Passing Selk's knowing look off with a scoff, but you didn't bother denying it. You just stopped complaining. 

The day passed on routinely. Your workshop did a bit of everything; small blacksmithing jobs, leather and tool repair, the occasional bartering of items - it kept you busy. Your hands were never idle. 

And with the steady flow of customers - your list of jobs never emptied. 

“Hey, partner, mind taking this customer for me?” Selk called from the front of the building. You placed down your tools and hurried up behind the counter, wiping away the grime and oil from your fingers on your apron - your attention wasn't fully focused on the counter until you looked up. 

You had no idea who was waiting for you until the smile was plastered on your face and you were standing in front of him.

Bjorn. Brow creased and gaze stormy. Despite his beautiful eyes being the same color as fresh moss after rain - they held such a heaviness that you had to force yourself to meet them. His hair was a mess today. What was normally a neatly corded tangle of braids atop his head was instead a cascading waterfall of wavy brown hair down one side of his head. Only one shaved side was visible today. It didn't make him look unkept, however. It just made him look more like a rugged lumberjack and the sight of him like this did things to you.

You managed to wrangle your thoughts together before the awkward silence stretched on for too long. “Good afternoon, Bjorn! What can I do for you?”

You were going to kill Selk. Even if the man didn't know what happened between you and Bjorn, you were still going to slaughter him for putting you in such an awkward position. 

You kept the friendly smile set on your lips. Ignoring the dread that began to tangle itself around your stomach when Bjorn didn't meet your eye. 

“Hi, Honey-Flower, I'm sorry to do this to you. But I need some repairs done to my winter-home. Urgently.”

Well, you couldn't have done that much damage to your friendship if he still used your pet-name. His request, however, pushed aside any relief you felt and filled your words with confusion. 

“Repairs? Didn't Selk reinforce it only two weeks ago?” You asked. 

There was a break in the storm clouds - a look of sheepishness peaked through Bjorn's furrowed brow. 

“Yeah…I'll pay extra if you don't ask any questions.” There he was! That little cheeky smile brought back the life in Bjorn's handsome face. Dappled light shone over his mossy eyes, making the soft pools of green shimmer with mirth.

And when you laughed, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in response. “Alright. I'll add the ‘no questions’ charge to the hire. I can be out there this afternoon if you're free? To gauge what I'm in for.”

A wisp of shadow shifted over Bjorn's gaze. And something about his faltering smile made yours dim too.

“Ah…yeah. I'm free this afternoon. But um…is Selk available to take the job? You know, because he did the last repairs…”

Bjorn must have known his excuse sounded pathetic because he let the words trail off. Thick, muscled fingers tapped the counter restlessly - unable to look at you.

Our friendship might still be here but it's damaged. You inwardly sighed. But you kept the sorrow plugged deep down in your chest. Using the helpful store clerk facade as a mask while you desperately thought of ways to repair what you've broken. 

You gestured over at Selk, your smile no longer warm but strained.

“The fool went and injured his leg. So he won't be making house calls for a while.” You sighed. Selk however was smirking as he showed off his heavily bandaged calf. Where the shaggy grey fur around his leg had been shaved and replaced with a thick layer of bandages.

Bjorn grunted. You weren't sure what to make of that sound, so you chose to ignore it. Waiting instead to see what he said.

He seemed to be in heavy contemplation. His face was an impassive mask of tension. Many emotions flickered through his eyes - all of them unreadable. …until they landed on you. 

Heavy - Dark - then he nodded. And it was as if you didn't just see the most delicious gleam in the man's eyes fix on your face.

“Come by this afternoon and you can let me know how big a hole in my purse you'll make.” 

You nodded, somehow breathless, and Bjorn left the workshop a moment later. 

Selk limped up beside you, clicking his tongue playfully.

“Damn, lass, what did you do to him?” Selk meant it in jest. But it felt like a reasonable question. 

Just before dusk began to settle, you set off down the road towards Bjorn's homestead. He was one of the few that lived beyond the village walls, the furthest from your little home.

The walk to his farm was always a pleasant one. Nestled between a forest of pine and cypress trees, surrounded by a blanket of soft sweet grass speckled with wildflowers - his cottage sat proudly basking in a pool of afternoon sun. 

You were welcomed to his homestead by the gentle buzz of bees and a breeze that carried a wonderfully fragrant scent. The hives were dotted around his estate in neat clusters, mostly residing amongst the fruit orchards to pollinate the trees and flowers dutifully. 

Where other farmers grew livestock or tended crops, Bjorn nurtured his wild instincts with bee-keeping and fruit farming. Which was then placed into some of the most delicious mead you've ever tasted.

And it was this mead that was waiting for you with Bjorn on the porch of his home. He was lounging on a wide timber framed couch when you arrived. Two cups sat on a round table by his elbow - one already half consumed. The other was filled near to the brim when you rounded the corner and into view. 

“Ah, this is the best welcome I've ever received.” You said, gratefully taking the cup when Bjorn met you on the steps. He was smiling and his eyes had a shine of mirth to them. 

Which only grew in intensity when you smacked your lips appreciatively to the burst of flavor from your first sip. “Delicious as always.”

Bjorn chuckled, nursing his own drink between two giant meaty hands. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.” He says leading the way behind the house. “And at such a late hour too. Hope it's not too inconvenient.”

“You said it was urgent. And by the look of your shed - Oh, Gods, Bjorn! What happened?!” 

Bjorn had a shed that was affectionately called ‘the winter home’. It was similar in size to his cottage but made from brick and mortar instead of logs and tile. 

It had been constructed for whenever Bjorn's wild side demanded control. Which was always the week circling the Winter Solstice. 

It was a grueling week for the poor guy. The potent magic between the changing seasons forced his transformation on him and according to Bjorn, the second house was indeed necessary. To lock him away while the bear spirit took over. 

What was a structure of hard materials was now a site of disaster. The brick walls were still intact, but the windows had been smashed and the doors were splinters. The chunks that were still somewhat intact had deep grooves - claw marks - embedded in the dark timber.

And when you peered inside, the carnage only worsened. The little house only resembled a homey building on the outside. But the interior was majority iron and metal - a cage. The bars were as thick as your arm and created criss-cross patterns that left wide squares to reveal the inside of the cage. 

But some of these metal bars were now bent. One part of the left top corner was separated from the rest. Nails had fallen out or were hanging precariously out of their slots, forced out by a massive force ramming into the cage sides. 

Furniture had been shattered and the remnants were now in a neat pile in the corner. 

The cage door was laying on the floor. Bent heavily in the center. 

Bjorn tapped his cup with a finger, looking adorably bashful. “I thought I was paying for the ‘no questions asked’ charge.”

“Well, you haven't paid me yet.” You pointed out. But you dropped your curiosity and began inspecting the cage. Sipping on the mead in-between prodding and mental listing of what needed to be done. 

Bjorn let you work without his presence lingering nearby. Keeping some distance between the two of you. And quite the space too - you thought offhandedly. Bjorn was always a step behind you while you worked, asking questions and eager to learn tricks of your trade. 

But today he seemed fixed on staying outside. 

“So…how bad?” Bjorn asked.

“When you say urgent-” 

“I need it repaired by the end of the week at the latest.” Bjorn answered your question before you finished it. You stared at him - thinking he was joking. But his unwavering stare corrected your jesting expectations.

“Bjorn… That’s four days from now. These repairs could take me much longer than that.”

“I don’t need the full house repaired, just the cage.” Bjorn said. He seemed almost desperate in the way he looked at you. “Please, Muffin, I wouldn’t make such hard demands if I could avoid it.” 

You sighed, unable to be stern under such a heartbreakingly sweet face. You nodded, looking up at the cage walls with a feeling of dread and apprehension growing in you. You then drank the last of the mead and placed it in Bjorn’s hands as you exited the house. 

“I’ll come early and leave late. Starting tomorrow.” 

Bjorn looked visibly relieved. A heavy breath escaped his lungs and a proper, warm smile graced his lips. 

“Thank you. Truly. I’ll owe you a lot for this. I’ll provide meals for you. And mead if you fancy.” 

“Some of your cooking with that mead and I’ll cut a little off your bill.” 

You returned the next day, early as promised. The sun was barely rising when you rode your horse and cart alongside the little ruined structure. And Bjorn brought you a steaming plate of food just as he promised. You worked through the day taking measurements and notes of the cage, anything that needed smithing - like new nails or hinges - would be made back at the workshop. But the majority of the work could be done right away since Selk had ordered more materials for the cage a while ago. 

“You never know when Bjorn would want to expand the cage.” Self had shrugged with a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “But I guess breaking it is also a possibility.” 

What was the worse part of fitting the cage together again was that the little house was built to retain heat during the worst winters. 

Even with the doors and windows missing the air within the walls was suffocatingly hot. The spring breeze did near nothing to help cool the massive room as you beat metal into shape or hammered nails into slots. 

You wiped your face clean of sweat almost every minute to keep your eyes clear. The little handkerchief Bjorn had provided to help was near saturated by the time you finished for the day. 

Bjorn brought you a plate of a home-made dinner as you were packing up your tools. 

“You can leave the cart if you like.” He said, joining you on the steps of his somewhat more put together winter home. “I have a pen you can leave the horse in too.” 

“Thanks. That saves me dropping them back at Selk’s.” You said, clinking your provided cup of mead against his. Drinking deeply before digging into your food. Then between mouthfuls, you continued to talk. “I thought your bear only took over during the first week of winter.”

“What good is a ‘no questions’ charge if you keep pestering the client?” Bjorn’s tone was gruff and, dare you say, curdling with an impatient growl. But the twinkle in his eyes dimmed the hostility. 

“It wasn’t a question. Call it an observation.” You waved your fork at the pieces of cage that you still needed to bend back into shape or replace. “You’re pretty in control, usually. Even when I’ve seen you pissed, the bear doesn’t show a fang. And you’ve told me stories about your shifts on the solstice, so I’m only guessing that’s what happened.”

Bjorn didn’t answer right away. 

He hadn’t touched his food either - just pushed it around his plate with his fork and drank deeply from his cup.

“I don’t know what happened, to be honest.” Bjorn muttered. “I barely made it inside the cage before it took over. But…” His eyes flicked up to you for a moment and something you didn’t recognize passed through his gaze. His eyes looked darker. Shadows carved lines under his eyes, forming heavy bags of exhaustion. “The bear was stronger this time. A hunger I’ve never experienced before. And what was terrifying was that I was conscious the entire time. The bear and I were one mind. I’ve never… I’ve only experienced that one other time.”

You had stopped eating. Giving Bjorn your full attention. His words seemed to exhaust him further; a weight falling from his shoulders as he looked at you. And though the shadows still plagued his gaze, there was a hint of worry behind his eyes. 

“Should you warn the village?” You asked, hoping he didn’t take the question the wrong way. “If you can break out of the cage and the bear is… hungry…” 

“I’ve already warned the Jarl about it.” Bjorn sighed. Finally shoving food into his mouth. He ate as if it were a chore. “I did it yesterday. That was half the reason for my sour mood.” A ghost of a smile played over his lips. But it too looked forced.

You couldn’t help it. You wanted to comfort him somehow. Seeing such a kind man look so defeated made your heart ache, so you reached over and placed your hand over his. He flinched but his fingers intertwined with yours almost immediately.

Bjorn looked shocked when he looked down and watched your thumb graze over the back of his palm. 

“Is there any way I can help? We can order tonics if you think they’ll help.”

Bjorn licked his lips. A heart-beat passed before he shook his head. “No. But thank you. I just need the cage reinforced and repaired. I’m sure it’ll pass. When I got out… I managed to satisfy the hunger a little. But I can feel it growing again. That’s why I made a near impossible demand of you.”

“It’s not impossible. Just difficult.” You said with a chuckle and you glimpsed the smallest smile from Bjorn too. 

“I appreciate it. A lot.” He said and you nodded, returning your hand to your knife and continued to eat. Bjorn even ate some of his food after that, but still left a little on his plate when he took yours inside. 

You took the cart-horse to Bjorn’s spare pen and tucked your tools in the wagon. The handkerchief that Bjorn gave you was left hanging over the ladder to dry. 

Once everything was safely away, you bid Bjorn goodnight and left just as the sun began to set. 

Arriving back just as early, you were greeted with a smiling Bjorn and a plate loaded with pancakes, dripping with syrup and cream. 

He looked phenomenally better today. The bags under his eyes were gone and a light had returned to his gaze, crinkling with his warm welcoming “Good morning!” 

That little dimple you adored so much even made an appearance. Hidden slightly beneath the scruff that lined his cheeks. He'd even braided his hair today! The shiny strands formed a thick rope from his brow, across his scalp and down between his shoulder-blades.

He looked much more like the Bjorn you adored today.

“Good morning to you too. Don’t you have a skip in your step this morning.” You greeted him with a laugh. His light-hearted mood was contagious. The early wake up grumbles couldn’t stick around when Bjorn was smiling at you like that. 

Bjorn’s replying laugh sounded close to an embarrassed bark. His eyes darting everywhere but on you as you took the plate from him and started digging into your breakfast. 

“I finally - uh - got the bear to settle enough to get a proper sleep last night.” 

“Oh nice! What did you have to do? Snort a bunch of honey until he was drunk on it?” You asked in between licking syrup from your fingers. The sticky mess was getting everywhere and you were determined not to waste a drop. Unaware of the way your tongue swept over each digit with sinful dedication. Curling delicately around your knuckles, slipping teasingly between your lips… poor Bjorn forgot how to breathe. The air in his lungs caught in his throat and an uncomfortable heat burned along his skin. 

He looked away. Blushing hard. “Yeah…something like that.” He grumbled under his breath. 

After breakfast you removed your tools from the cart and went to work. Bjorn chatted away with you as he hovered around the winter home. Tidying up the remnants of his destructive night and doing some light chores nearby. 

When the heat started to get to you, your slick forehead reminded you of the handkerchief and you went to retrieve it… only to find it missing from the ladder. 

“Oh! Right. I-uh- washed it for you last night.” Bjorn said when he saw you looking around for the piece of material. He patted down his pockets until he found one with a folded handkerchief stuffed inside. 

You thanked him while dapping the cloth against your skin. His eyes followed the movement liked a starved hound.

Some time later, sweat became a problem a handkerchief couldn’t fix but Bjorn’s well-water could. You dragged a bucket up from the depths and splashed the cold water over your face. Swiping a cooled hand along the back of your neck, sighing with relief as the droplets were soaked up in your shirt. Pairing with the breeze that flowed through Bjorn’s orchard, carrying the sweet scent of blossoms, it was a blissful way of cooling yourself down. 

You heard a grunt, low and deep, and glanced over to Bjorn’s porch. Finding the man taking his own break, shaded from the sun, lounging on a couch carved from pine and layered in plush cushions. A pitcher and two glasses sat beside him on a small glass table. 

He was looking out towards his orchards, brow furrowed and a dark look over his eyes. You decided to join him. And even when you poured yourself a glass of crisp apple mead, Bjorn still didn’t look at you.

It didn't take you long to figure out what was bothering him. Bjorn tried to do the sweet thing and cover his crotch with a blanket. Bunching it up in a way that you could have imagined the tent in his jeans as another hill in the fabric. But you had glimpsed the rounded bulge on your way up the porch steps. Too quick for Bjorn to properly cover himself which made you smirk. Watching this beef-cake of a man, all delicious curves and muscle, shy away from your gaze tickled a little sense of pride in you.

And you'd be lying if that particular mound didn't stir something primal in yourself either. A memory, though fuzzy and hazed from a drunken night, had your walls aching in a very familiar way.

"So…can we finally address that night?" You asked after a confidence boosting sip of mead. Allowing the burn to bolster your resolve before you chickened out. "Because I kind of feel like you've been trying to avoid me since then."

In hindsight, it might not have been a good time to ask about your tumble in the dark with a Shifter who was battling with his other side. Especially when he had an obvious problem right here and now.

But when was there ever a good time to ask about your one night fling with a man you've had a soft-spot for since your teen years? Maybe not this one. You definitely could have chosen a better time. But you just had to know.

His gaze fell on you and you were swept away into a forest bathed in twilight. Mysterious and heavy, a gaze that was hungry and on the cusp of devouring you. A beast in need. Then your Bjorn returned and his gorgeous green eyes blinked in surprise. "I thought you didn't remember…"

You took another deep drink, almost draining the rest of the contents in the glass, before placing it back on the small table and approached Bjorn just like you did that night.

Your fingertips trailed along his arm. Following the fine lines that trembled under your touch. Tensing, as if to entice you, when your palm rested against his bicep and used the firm muscle as leverage while you swung your leg over Bjorn's lap. Your thighs trapped his legs between yours, cradling the firm hill of his clothed cock against the nook of your covered pussy.

His chest expanded under your hand. A heavy, deep breath that filled Bjorn's lungs with warm flower scented air before being released out slowly as you made yourself comfortable on top of him.

"I remember something like this." You said softly. Drawing small patterns over his chest. Feeling the thick hair beneath his shirt that covered his chest and soft belly. You recalled how it tickled when the shirt had ridden up during your one night stand. Your fingers had explored it then, feeling how the hair blanketed his torso and grew down around his cock. And now, you had a maddening urge to slide your hand under the material just to tangle your fingers in the fine hair. "I remember you being very gentle even though I practically begged you not too be."

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