Chapter 37: Gifts

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Once Greta left, August turned to Graeme. "What's with all the wood?"

"I thought you might be uncomfortable taking a shower out in the open," Graeme replied, meeting her eyes. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

"Another fever," August nodded. "Your sister told you, didn't she?"

"She did," he confirmed, walking closer to look her over. "Are you okay?"

"I could see her—her energy or whatever. Like I could see yours. I could see the whole forest," she replied, waiting for Graeme to show the same surprise that she herself felt at the revelation. Graeme didn't respond to it but searched her face, which looked ashamed for some reason. "It seemed to heal me," she added softly, "But then… I," her voice broke. "I don't know what happened. I just—I just wanted to help her. I'm sorry," she looked down into her deceivingly normal-looking hands.

Graeme took her in his arms. "You are amazing." He kissed the top of her head and felt her relax against him. "Just always consider yourself first. Please?" The last part came out in a whisper. "And here I thought I was special," he pulled back with a smirk. "I got you some things, come see."

August stumbled slowly behind him wondering how he could change the subject as if what she told him was nothing. "Keep in mind, these were just guesses to get you started," she heard him say. "We can get whatever else you need," and then, one by one, Graeme unveiled the gifts from reusable shopping bags that littered the kitchen. Canvases, an easel, oil and acrylic paints, charcoal and sketch books, books on different topics that he thought she might be interested in, a phone, a laptop, a battery charger for her camera, a box of cannoli donuts from Mama May's… August stood looking at everything in shock.

"Graeme… you didn't have to…" she started. "I—I don't know what to say," she touched the phone box.

"Is this stuff okay?" he asked.

"It's all perfect. I just don't want you to feel like I need or expect anything like this," her eyebrows furrowed under the weight of so much. She wasn't good at receiving gifts, and this was in such abundance. It was overwhelming. "It's—it's too much."

"Can't I spoil you?" Graeme approached her side. "I want you to eventually feel at home here."

"Thank you," she said, unsure of what else to say when her chest was fluttering uncontrollably. He pulled her into a hug, tucking her head under his chin.

"You're welcome," he sighed in the relief of having her against him. "Why don't you unpack it all and get it set up. I'm going to get started on your new and improved shower."

August stole glances of Graeme working while she took everything out of boxes and bags and got it sorted. Thankfully the ceiling-to-floor windows allowed her a view to the deck. She watched how his eyebrows threaded together in concentration as he worked with his hands, nailing pieces of wood to create a privacy wall where the shower area was hidden. Sweat had started to glisten on his face when August brought him some water.

"It's quite chivalrous of you to worry about my modesty," she said while leaning on the railing, watching him drink the water. "Can people see us up here?" she asked, looking down into the forest below.

"Not unless they're exceptional at climbing trees," he said.

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"Or have drones?" she added for him to smile.

"Or that."

"Showering out here doesn't bother you. Maybe it shouldn't bother me," she shrugged. He raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief.

"Is that really how you feel? I just figured—you're, you know, human…"

"Are humans different?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"Usually they're… weirdly neurotic about things like that, aren't they?" Some of his dark hair had fallen over his forehead.

August laughed hearing his assessment of the so-called 'humans' of which she was a part. "I guess many are," she answered.

"Seriously—you have some pathologies because of it, honestly," he said and then caught himself. "I mean, not you specifically. You as in the collective you."

"So lycans are comfortable being naked out in the open?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged, chuckling and returning again to the remaining work he had laid out for himself. "I think we understand more that sort of primal or natural part of ourselves. And that, you know, bodies are just beautiful and nothing to be ashamed about. The judgment of others isn't there like in humans." August nodded considering this, unable to avoid the memory of seeing Graeme out here showering, which stirred primal feelings of her own.

"You must have spent a lot of time with humans," she thought aloud.

"I've been everywhere. But I never thought I'd end up with one," his gaze fell on her with a teasing smile.

"I don't think you're as surprised as I am," she smiled back at him. "So we're assuming I'm still technically human?"

"Maybe labels aren't important," he set down his tools and walked to her, reaching up to run a strand of her hair through his fingers. "You're one of a kind. My August Moon. That's all that matters," his hand tipped her chin up for him to kiss her lightly.

"And I don't know if I've mentioned it yet or not, but you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he tilted her head and kissed below her ear, breathing her in, "and smelled," he added, letting her intoxicating presence wash over him as he turned her face toward his again and looked down at her full lips. "And tasted," he bent down to kiss her again and stopped, hovering right over her lips as he met her eyes, which were burning golden back into his. Her cheeks were tinted pink at the mention of her smell and taste—but her lips were parted waiting for him, and he kissed her again for her to feel herself lift up out of her body to flutter somewhere happy and free in the forest.

When Graeme pulled away from her, she immediately missed him. The warmth he brought. The security. The reassurance. But more than all of these things, he brought her what felt like a deeper understanding of herself in this new altered state she found herself in—it was as if he was the missing part of piecing this all together inside her mind and body and—and soul? She watched his previously unknown face that had now become a new home in her eyes as it looked softly back at her. "Graeme, I…" 'I'm afraid,' the words arched out into the air unsaid, 'I think I love you already. And I'm afraid.'

"Here—let me give you my number," he smirked under her gaze and took the phone she had forgotten was in her grip. "I'll give you Greta's as well."

"Okay," she blinked back the words that had echoed in her mind.. Upon receiving the phone back from him, she saw he had put himself in under "Mate," and she smiled to herself as he went to clean up his tools.

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