CHAPTER EIGHT
Situated
Three weeks of sleeping on the couch were all he could bear! In truth, some nights, Warren had chosen not to sleep at all because he hated the sleeping arrangements so much. Being gentlemanly to his detriment, he had allowed his 'guest'—a term he used loosely, to commandeer his bed. It depressed him to have found himself sleeping on a couch at this time of his life, and all because of a woman, too. So, on that Tuesday morning, he'd woken up around six AM, searching for a solution.
Karou wouldn't be awake for hours. She regularly slept until noon, only to stay awake past midnight. Her sleeping pattern juxtaposed Warren's, but he knew that her routine of 'late to rise, late to rest' was a habit kept by many youngsters. On the other hand, Karou wasn't lazy once she was up and about; she was always eagerly searching for something, anything to do. Drawing and reading seemed to be her favourite pastimes, but he thought he wouldn't ever get used to her late-night movie marathons. She was polite enough not to have the volume high, but it was her presence that he hadn't adjusted to. He'd become addicted to being alone once he'd come to appreciate how peaceful it was.
For all fifteen minutes he spent showering, Warren considered how to fix their sleeping arrangements. He had considered letting Karou keep his room and setting up another bed for himself in his office, but he quickly dismissed the idea. The fact that he could close the door on his work during the evening was the only way he could tear himself away. One of his flaws was his proneness to overwork himself in his quest for perfection.
Rubbing a towel over his hair, he exited the steamy, wet room and there, stalled in the hallway, he had an epiphany. The answer was staring him in the face! Opening the door before him, he assessed a possible solution—the closet. It was a generous one and currently only housed a few boxes of his less favoured books, a vacuum cleaner, a mopping bucket, and a few other cleaning supplies. It could easily be emptied and made more "comfortable". Sure, it lacked windows, but the unit as a whole wasn't blessed with a deal of natural light; it was halfway underground.
Feeling inspired to enact his plan, Warren dressed quickly and started making arrangements with the appropriate staff to deliver the furniture he'd need to transform the space into Karou's new sleeping quarters.
The room's bare bones were bleak, with the wire shelf that ran the left-hand wall being its only distinguishing feature. Still, by eleven o'clock, Warren had introduced a desk, bookcase, bedside table, and an iron-sprung bed frame into the space. Laying out the last decorative pieces—a rug and a desk lamp, he figured Karou would have to add personal touches herself, but at least now she had some semblance of a private space to call her own.
Hmm, when should I mention that I'm taking my bedroom back? So far, Warren had found it difficult to converse with Karou casually, and seeing as he wasn't expecting her to be thrilled that he planned to house her in a closet, he excused himself from being reluctant. She'll have to sleep on the couch if she won't sleep in there; at least, that's what he figured he'd tell her if there were any arguments. God forbid she had a teenage tantrum!
Karou awoke and, while going through the motions of her first daily ritual, getting her caffeine fix, she unexpectedly came upon Warren. He was sat at the kitchen island, where he'd resigned himself to waiting for her to get up. His laptop remained open, and although he appeared to be working, the moment she'd entered the kitchen, his focus had vanished.
"I've got some news," he announced, poised for Karou's reaction.
Karou set down her coffee mug and clambered onto the seat across from him. With a peaked brow, she simply inquired, "Oh?"
"I've found somewhere else for you to sleep," he said, closing the laptop to show he meant business.
"Oh?" Curiously, her brow rose higher, as did her tone.
"Follow me, I'll show you."
When she saw they were nearing his bedroom, she volunteered to get dressed, assuming they'd be leaving the unit. But then, he stopped, shot her a quizzical look, and opened the door to a room she'd never taken any notice of until right now. Karou cast her eyes between the room before her and Warren, and though he scrutinised the details of her face, he couldn't decipher the meaning of her expression. Her blue eyes gleamed wide; her brow pushed even higher than her curiosity had moved it.
"In here? This is where you want me to stay?"
Warren tensed, unsure if he was sensing disappointment. "Yes…"
Tentatively, Karou ventured inside. "I didn't know your place had another bedroom…" Her eyes settled on the freshly made bed; the bedding looked brand new and cosy, boasting a thread count on the other end of the spectrum from what she was used to.
"It didn't—" Warren was deflated to admit, "—it was a closet." He rubbed his hand through the back of his hair.
"Well, it does now." Karou turned to find her host wearing a sheepish, bashful expression, the likes of which she'd never seen him make before. It didn't steal her beaming grin, though; it broadened it. She cheerfully exclaimed, "Thank you. Thank you for giving me my own room."
Dumbstruck, Warren sighed in relief. Somehow, everything had worked in his favour. For a short while, he stood redundantly, watching in awe and unable to stop his lips from twitching with the urge to smile as Karou explored the admittedly small space as if he'd granted her 'the cave of wonders'. Would he ever find her reactions anything other than baffling? He thought not.
Karou eagerly situated herself in her new room. By that afternoon, her desk was set up; a ceramic mug had become home to various pencils she'd acquired from Warren, along with a pad of paper. The room was a little homier, with some of her most recent drawings tacked to the walls.
The chest of drawers held all her new clothes, but one piece of furniture remained mournfully empty—the bookcase. Books were her favourite thing. She was itching to pay the Compound's library another visit. However, Warren's number one rule stipulated that she should never leave the unit unaccompanied. Since he rarely spared any time from his work, she got the feeling he wouldn't be willing to interrupt his schedule and escort her. Ever optimistic, though, she thought it wouldn't hurt to ask. If only she could get her feet to move her beyond the threshold of her new bedroom.
In baby steps, she tip-toed over the hardwood. Her lower lip reddened beneath her nervous, gnawing teeth. At her sides, she raked her fingers into her warm palms.
"If you're trying to sneak up on me, you should go ahead and give up." Turned halfway around, Warren stared her down over the back of the couch.
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"I wasn't trying—never mind, I just wanted to ask if I could go to the library."
Pondering, Warren stroked a hand down his chin. "Go and get dressed; I'll work something out so that you can go."
Giddy, with a spring in her step, Karou disappeared into her room and returned in fresh clothes just in time to hear a gong-like knock vibrate off of the unit's metal door.
"It's for you."
Inexplicably, her heart sank when she realised Warren wasn't going to be her chaperone—he'd obviously called one of his skivvies to take her. Fully expecting to find no one she knew beyond the door, she opened to a pleasant and welcome surprise. It was Nate. The smile on his face was infectious.
"Oh, it's you." Karou beamed.
"So it is. Orders are I've gotta take you out. You ready?"
"Yeah, let's go."
"Dinner will be ready at six. Be back for then." Warren ordered from the couch, too busy to even look up from his work.
"Yes, Sir."
✷✷✷
Side by side, Karou and Nate left the unit and the bleak outer corridors behind until the homely lights of the Compound's inner sanctum bathed them.
At this time of day, the Compound's community lounge was a hive of activity. There wasn't a seat to spare around the blazing fireplace; chairs had even been borrowed from elsewhere so that those who weren't participating in the card games and chess matches could still watch and socialise.
Karou had gathered that there wasn't an abundance of stimulating activities available to fill one's day, but life continued nonetheless. The residents had seamlessly adopted low-tech pastimes. Of course, there were those who had volunteered to work and help run the place—like the gentleman whom she found herself standing before.
Near the library's entrance, tucked into an alcove, sat a large mahogany study desk. Behind it, perched upon a red leather, chesterfield-style captain's chair was a man. He peered through hornrimmed spectacles at the pile of books to his right and to his left, his hand busily checked off a list.
Gesturing toward the man, Nate suggested she acquaint herself with the head librarian, Alder Pitkin, and that he'd meet her inside, by the fiction section.
On her approach, the librarian made it clear that he knew he was required, but held up his hand, index erect, and requested 'one minute'. Meanwhile, he reeled off the last book titles on his list and checked them off. Taking off his glasses to better see Karou's face, he smiled and asked, "Right then, Miss, how can I help you?" Which made something else about his person clear: his accent, he was Scottish.
"I'd like to borrow some books, please."
"Aye, go ahead. I'll book them out when you're ready."
"Oh. Okay then."
Karou felt the interaction to be somewhat anticlimactic, but then the man stood, a short four feet tall, and led her into the maze of bookcases.
"What genre takes your fancy? We've got a decent enough collection here."
The question fell on her deaf ears because tucked close to the silk back of the man's waistcoat were four iridescent wings, veined like delicate stained glass. Alder Pitkin was what she'd heard people call 'Fae'.
"There's only a few rules. We only lend out six books at a time, and I'm supposed to tell you that you have to bring'em back w'in a fortnight, but I'm pretty lenient about that. The night clerk though—" Alder glanced over his shoulder at Karou, puffed his cheeks and rolled his green eyes. "—I would'nae bring any overdue books back to him. He's a foul temper, an' he's a great troll of a man—" and so he went on talking, and Karou hadn't gotten a word in edgeways, and neither had she been listening, for she was so enchanted by the man's magnificent wings. When he sharply cornered a bookcase, they quivered behind him, having caught the air. The banker's lamps that arched the study desks cast off an orange light. The way it shimmered a copper colour over the surface of his wings was eye-catching and much the same colour as the auburn braid that hung between them.
Up ahead, Karou spotted Nate standing beside the bookcase marked "E" in the Fiction Literature section. He was talking to the girl who was restocking from the brass trolley beside them. At first glance, Karou presumed the girl was standing on a ladder, but on second glance, she spotted the four thrumming wings at her back—much the same as Alder's and just as stunning but periwinkle and lilac in colour. Although Karou had tuned out of Alder's babble, she caught the tail end of Nate's chatter.
"Hey, June, I've got somethin' to show you." She shot him a look, "Trust me, you're gonna want to see this…"
"It better not be another tick 'cause that was disgu—" and that was when the Fae girl clocked Karou, clued in by Nate's nod in her direction. The following few words she said Karou couldn't match to any language she'd heard before.
"Juniper!" Alder exclaimed, alarmed and clearly understanding the foreign words. "Wait, what?" Something occurred to him, and he whipped around to eye Karou. "You're human?"
"They're called Mortals, Alder." Juniper spat. Now, back on her feet, fast approaching and focused entirely on Karou. "I can't believe it! An actually Mortal, here, at our Compound."
Karou's smile was strained; she wasn't very good at being the centre of attention. "Uh, hi…"
"Well, hello. I'm Juniper, but everyone calls me June. What's your name?"
"Karou."
"Ka-Rou? That does'nae sound very Mortal…"
"Ack, now who is being rude." Alder chuckled, swatting the Fae girl's upper arm.
"You'll have to excuse them; they're very sheltered," Nate interjected. "We've come for some books, and we'd better get looking if I'm going to get you back for dinner time."
The rest of that afternoon was pleasant and spent doing what Karou liked best: choosing new reads.
Juniper never left her side, and though she had lots of questions, every one of Karou's answers was rewarded with June sharing some token of information about herself. The girl buzzed around like a fly, slightly annoying, but how could Karou's annoyance remain when she was such a pretty, fascinating and dainty creature? Truly, June made Karou's five foot two inches feel tall compared to her three foot seven stature. That feeling might've gone to her head if it wasn't for the six foot and some Lycan that accompanied them.
Nate and Juniper both lived in the Alternative Accommodation together, but Karou still hadn't the courage to enquire why that was the case. Juniper came from a large family of Fae, and their home was called a nest. Juniper's mother was the family's matriarch, but she didn't live at the Compound with her mate and their children. Instead, she ferried too and from the Faerie Vale, taking those of age to safety, far away from the Mortal Realm—The Compound was just a stop on a long journey elsewhere for the De'en‐Pitkin Fae. Karou avoided talking about her mother as much as possible, but it was relatively easy to do so when Juniper seemed hellbent on finding out what it was like living with 'The Mr. Howard.' Although June's curiosity was harmless, Karou knew quite a lot about curiosity and so naturally, she was wary of the questions. She wasn't sure if it was a test, and she didn't want to speak ill of a man who had given her shelter.
Nate and Karou arrived back at the unit with only minutes to spare. When Warren let them in his eyes, he immediately homed in on the large, well-stocked box Nate was carrying. Juniper had bent Alder's lending allowance to splintering point so her new friend could fill up her bookcase.
"Did you leave anything for anyone else to read?" Warren enquired, planting the box down onto Karou's bed; it creaked and sagged beneath the weight.