Where the glass held...

I can feel a food coma coming on after my first meal in what feels like a week. I stretch toward the ebbing rays of the day, and it finally clicks how late it is.

I can't risk passing out in town, and with dusk in full swing, I can't even fit in a quick nap either. I'd most likely wake to darkness and have to blindly search my way back to the house, or wait out the night 'til day breaks then make tracks.

I really want to sleep in a bed though. Maybe take the time to get clean as well.

I shift a little, adjusting my seating position, and a whiff of something almost putrid releases from my clothes. I gag involuntarily.

I need to clean my clothes.

The beastgirl finishes off her apple, tosses the core into the empty bundle that once contained our ransacked feast, and stretches high above her head.

My eyes drop to her waist, but her top doesn't rise up much.

When I look back up, she's already turned to face me.

I freeze in apprehension over being caught.

A mix of emotions cascade across the beastgirl's face – shock, uncertainty, annoyance, embarrassment, disgust – but, she seems to settle on flashing me a playful grin and then laughing at me. Does this count as flirting? Maybe best to defuse the situation a bit, just in case she takes it the wrong way.

I grab the apple core off my jacket, and finish it off in a couple of bites. I know more food isn't going to help me feel any less tired, but it is going to... there it is.

The beastgirl's face goes from a coy smirk to a picture of pure horror in nanosecond. Her brain lagging for a moment, then slowly catching up behind her eyes. She rotates her head back and forth between our makeshift picnic blanket and my final crunches several times before finally fixing me with a gaze of death.

Well that worked a trea-

She clocks me on the top of the head.

Guess that's what an alarm clock feels like then.

I stick my tongue out. A single pip on its tip.

“Cuckoo~”

Her serious expression gives way little by little. A snicker, then a sneer, and finally a howl erupts from her lips. In no time she's slapping her thigh like an old man telling his favourite joke to someone new. Deflection achieved.

The inclination to lie back in the grass wells up again, and I fight against it even harder. I don't want to keep causing whiplash in the mood, but there's a risk the beastgirl might take things the wrong way.

She has been awfully familiar, leading me about by the wrist, leaning her head against me, letting me stroke her... enough of that!

Has she imprinted on me?

I don’t know what her species’ behaviours are like, so I might end up declaring fielty, my undying love and loyalty, or causing an irredeemable faux pas without even knowing.

With things a more pleasant like this, she might even try something. I'm not ready for that kinda thing. I'm exhausted. A nap would really help right about now though.

My head lolls.

It snaps right back up.

Heavy lethargy that threatens to drown you like a weighted blanket descends on me.

Yawning myself to my feet is the only option to not pass out on this hillside.

The beastgirl’s gaze, unwavering, questions me.

I try to communicate that I have to go. Pointing at the waning sun, making motions as if I’m looking at a watch that isn’t on my wrist, I start shuffling my way through the brush, offering thanks and bows as I go.

She quickly scrabbles to her feet, looking… distressed?

No.

Scared!

Almost out of her wits, but why? Because I’m leaving?

I try to hush her up, kneeling back down so we won’t be seen, even as her whimpers carry on the wind. A mild panic starts to rise in my chest in case we’re caught out here. There’s nothing I can think of to calm her down though.

Some people might be comfortable going in for a hug, but that’s way too much for me. We’ve sort of held hands, so I suppose I could do that to help ground her.

Taking her hands in mine, I tell the beastgirl that everything will be fine. I don’t have a full plan yet, but I explain that I have to go, and she has to stay here at least one more night to not draw attention after all the conflict earlier.

I know she can’t understand me, but I hope that just the sound of my voice will soothe her.

It doesn’t.

She just keeps winding herself up further. Going from anxious to borderline hysterical in no time flat.

I remember something I saw online about timed breathing to help refocus when you’re having a panic attack. I start taking and holding breaths to get the rhythm, but she’s too consumed by her emotions to notice. I try tapping out the pace of inhaling and exhaling on the back of her hand, and she starts to get the gist.

After a few minutes, her breathing is under control, and she is able to gulp back any further sobs.

The thought that maybe her animal side gets separation anxiety or something passes through my mind, but I check myself. She’s not going to have pack bonded with me, or whatever, in less than a day.

The beastgirl, now calm again, looks to me pleadingly.

I get the implication of her expression.

It’s not that she doesn’t want me to leave; it’s that she wants to go with me.

She doesn’t want to be abandoned. Not after everything that has happened today. We’ve both been beaten, she’s probably gotten punished more after being dragged home too, and now, faced with a viable exit strategy, with someone to support her in it, she’s impatiently grasping at this chance like it’s fleeting, threatening to vanish and never return…

I can sympathise. We’re in the same boat.

It’d make sense for someone to runaway from a home like hers, but with the way the orc and beastman looked at me, they’ll be on edge too, and likely to come looking for her sooner rather than later.

If she doesn’t go back, they’ll be out in force, then we’ll both be in trouble.

I want to help desperately though, but what can I do right now?!.

Still crouched, lost in thought, I am jolted back to the scene in front of me as the beastgirl pulls her hands away. I lose balance and fall on my heels.

Expecting to see her blushing, having come back to her senses and getting awkward about us holding hands this whole time - like our little moment behind the neighbours’ house - I’m hit with pangs of guilt for such inconsiderate thinking.

Her hands, limp across her knees, the slightest down turn to her gaze, glassy and forlorn.

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Have I messed up?

What do I do?

Think!

…

There’s a twitch.

A muscle spasm.

An ache in my chest.

Lump in my throat, tongue dry, and lip a quiver.

Before I realise what I’m doing, that I’ve even moved, my arms are around the beastgirl. Pulling her into me.

At first she is still - not stiff and resistant; dead-weight and relenting - just a void.

My heart is pounding in my ears. I can’t vocalise any words. I’m just dumbfounded by my own actions. The muscles in my jaw straining from being clenched so hard.

What the hell am I doing?!.

“…”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“I…”

There are a million thoughts rushing through my mind, too fast to capture and put into words. I simply croak. A rasping tone.

“Uhhhhh…”

Something soft brushes my cheek.

A tentative weight presses against my collarbone, pauses, and readjusts into my chest.

I exhale with empty lungs.

The tension leaves my body and I rub the beast girl’s back.

It’s relieving for both of us.

We stay huddled on the edge of the clearing in our embrace as the bruisings of night’s black and blue seeps into the rosy summer dusk.

The temperature hasn’t dropped much yet, but with the lessened light and a breeze picking up, it soon will do. It’s cooling, even with the warmth of another so close.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The beastgirl moves her head slightly.

“We’ll plan our escape, then.”

I have no idea how we’ll do that. Maybe I’ll be able to pick up enough words for us to put together provisions. Do some odd jobs that don’t need much communication, or with her as my multi creature translator, we can earn a little money in case of emergencies and to buy starter gear.

I stroke the back of her head and she looks up at me. She’s obviously been crying again. I didn’t hear a single thing the entire time.

The beastgirl makes a mucousy sniff, rubs a forearms across her eyes, and breathes out a sigh of both alleviation and determination.

That’s when she falters…

Noticing how close we’ve been, clinging to each other, her expression becomes one of embarrassment. She plays it off by quickly bundling up our few remaining morsels in my jacket and slinging them over her shoulder.

My legs crack while unfolding and I give her a smile.

I try to be cool with it, but I know there’s an obvious tint of tenderness in there. Her own smile matches mine, a touch of sourness creeping in again, so she turns away.

I don’t want emotions erupting anew. It’s been tumultuous enough as is.

Hopping over to her side, a little more eagerly than intended, I land off balance and stumble past, but correct myself before falling over into the long grass. Hopefully, a little clumsiness gets me points in charisma or something, rather than a dexterity de-buff.

She’s back to smirking like earlier.

Slipping back behind the houses clinging along the cliff side, we retrace our steps an order of magnitude slower than we did shooting out to the grassy verge. It’s a tired and solemn pace, like making a pilgrimage against our will.

It’s not unpleasant though.

There’s just tension in the air - not between us - at the situation. We both know what’s up and no one is happy about having to play a part longer than they have to. Especially under rough circumstances.

A few buildings away from the beastgirl’s house I hear the orc bellow and something shatter… I can only assume he’s been drinking and thrown the bottle across the room.

The beastgirl noticeably flinches.

I slip past her and give an encouraging smile.

Y’know, one of those “Yeah I get it, things suck, but not for long! Just hang in there and the good times will roll!” half smiles.

She stops, looks at me like I’m an idiot, shakes her head, puffs out her chest, shoots me a courageous grin, and takes a deep breath before marching onward.

At the last house, before her crooked little yard opens up, we press against the wall and try to listen for any further ruckus coming from the orc. Things seem to have settled down, for now, but that doesn’t mean they won’t kick off again as soon as she walks in the back door.

I feel the cool of the shade and strain my eyes into the shadows of encroaching night, not looking for anything in particular, and notice - a little away from us - a hatch in the foundations.

It seems the neighbours’ have a crawl space under their house.

I tap the beast girl on her shoulder and point toward it.

She looks between me, my finger, the hatch, and back, not really getting my query. I point at the bundle and shrug, trying to get across it’s maybe better to hide the evidence, rather than return with it red handed.

She blinks uncomprehendingly.

I motion for her give me the bundle, scooch along to covered opening, slip the panel aside, and put our leftovers just inside.

I throw in some jazz hands to show that my little performance is over and I’m rewarded with a giggle.

Think that got across.

I can tell she’s apprehensive about going back inside. She’s stalling for time just sitting out here and waiting. I’d be fine to stay if I wasn’t nearly an hour away and already risking being stranded in pitch darkness half way back.

Letting the mood settle, I nudge her shoulder again. She looks back, face tense, then averts her gaze.

I get why she keeps building herself then not being able to pull the trigger. This is a difficult situation, she needs to be brave, but it’s still terrifying.

It’s not like I can waltz in there and slap the orc, tell him what’s what, and march out the hero.

I got my ass kicked by that beanpole of a beastman… the orc would actually kill me. I need to train before I can take them on.

We need to train.

I stand up, offering my hand to the beast girl.

“We’re a team now! I got your back!”

Cheesy, I know, and it’s not like she knows what I’m saying… I’m just winging it. Hoping tone and body language counts enough that it carries some confidence and reassurance to her.

She takes my hand and wearily stands.

Her grip is firm, and once on her feet, her face is filled with determination.

I wish I had something to give her to help steel her resolve: a guild token, adventurer’s card, anything like that. Just so she has a totem she can cling to if her courage wavers, but easy enough to hide if she gets searched…

My free hand slips over something smooth and flat in my pocket.

That’ll work!

I pull out my phone and place it in the beastgirl’s hand, still cupped in mine.

She blinks in confusion.

Inspects the thin slab I just handed her.

Points at herself.

She’s getting it.

We can use hand signals at least.

I nod.

She beams.

The beastgirl does a giddy little hop, tries to look at herself in the shiny surface, pouts because it’s too dark, and holds it in front of herself for a bit not sure what to do next.

I motion that she should put the phone in a pocket for safe keeping just as she slips it into the waistband of her shorts.

Guess that’ll do… even if it’s likely to fall out and crack the screen.

I hang my head in mild vexation for a moment, not trying to rain on her parade, and then point for her to head home and for myself to go west-ish.

The beastgirl’s eyes follow my directions and she smiles in response.

We’re definitely making progress.

Then her face drops, she drags her feet towards the back of her house, looks back to me over her shoulder, her face a mask of pure misery… which cracks into a mischievous grin as she hops the rickety fence and plods across the dry patchy grass to the back door.

The beast girl doesn’t call out or wave a goodbye, no acknowledgement of any kind - which is probably for the best - and disappears inside.

I catch a whiff of myself again as the door clicks closed.

I forgot to ask for some soap.

Roar. Bang. Clatter. Growl.

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

Thump.

I wait for a little to make sure things don’t escalate and she doesn’t come darting back to me. The whole while the orc’s shouting can be heard from within, only slightly dulled by the thin walls. It subsides after less time than I honestly expected.

Just as I’m turning to go the back door flies open, the beastgirl sort of barks at me, and pitches a hell of a fastball.

I have to duck. Couldn’t even make out what she threw, but there was no way I could catch it. She makes a face, sticks her tongue out, and slams the door shut again.

More shouting.

More banging.

More thumps and thuds.

While the chaos of her home continues in the background, I lean over to pick up the pretty solid object I was nearly decapitated with…

A bar of soap.

She knows me so well.

Slipping back behind the neighbours’, then along the far side of the building to stay hidden, I make it to the front street just as another burst of yelling erupts.

It quickly dies off, though renews over and over, still reaching my ears every hundred feet or so as I make my way down the incline.

The whole neighbourhood must really hate them.