Chapter 11

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The movement of my hand is a well practiced up and down as I chop some vegetables for a soup. It's an automatic movement, my mind somewhere completely different.

It's Sunday morning and I haven't seen Raphael since we wordlessly pulled apart yesterday. We didn't even share another glance, both of us too uncertain about anything at that point. For me, this is still the case. I don't know or understand what is happening. This sudden need to be close to him isn't something that should have happened. It's just there and I can't help it. It's why I still haven't left the house.

The knife falls onto the floor with a loud clatter, accompanied with a few swear words, as if that would make my new gushing cut go away. I immediately hold it under the faucet of the sink, watching red tainted water swirl down. I almost expect footsteps on the stairs and Raphael asking if I'm alright. Where that comes from I don't know. He's never shown worry in regards to my safety, so why I expect it now I can't explain. But I do. And it feels almost hollow when the house just stays quiet.

After a few minutes I pull my hand away and look for something to put over it until it heals properly. I end up using kitchen towels and masking tape because I can't find anything else.

Then I go back to making my food.

An hour later I finish washing up my plates and head out.

I get rid of my clothes and change into my wolf form. Once my paws touch the ground in rapid succession, I can at least tell myself I feel better, that running is freeing me up a bit from all these constricting worries.

I don't hunt and I don't race, I just run.

My paws only just touch the ground as I push myself, just for the sake of it. Maybe it's to tire myself out so I don't have the energy to think anymore.

All I know is that, when I get back, I'm sweaty all over and it feels wrong to put my clothes on without a shower first. But I do, because everything else is just not an option.

As soon as I step into the shower, everything comes rushing back. Just the fact that I can relax makes my mind wander. It goes back to yesterday morning, to when I kissed Raphael, to when Raphael kissed me back.

I groan and throw my head onto the shower wall, letting the water hit my face. For some reason, I want to cry.

Yesterday, I didn't have any doubts, I just acted. And there's no way to blame it on the alcohol, because by the time we actually woke up, enough time had passed for us to be sober again.

And I haven't seen him since.

Maybe that is the worst part. Maybe I want to laugh about the stupid mistake together with him. Maybe I want to talk it out with him. Maybe I think it's a shame because we actually somehow got along. Maybe I just can't bear to not see him.

I turn off the shower roughly, desperately looking for a distraction, anything. Unfortunately, this is Raphael's house. There is no distraction in a place he spends most of his time in.

I head back to the kitchen, thinking about making a quick snack or something.

It's all still exactly the same as when I left. The bowl of soup I left on the counter is still where I put it, only now, it's empty, like every time I cook.

A small smile finds its way onto my face. I can't stop a certain happiness taking me over, if only for a short while.

My phones vibrates in my pocket then and I walk over to the sofa and sit down before taking it.

'Zach.' I say as a greeting.

'How's my boy doing?' he laughs into my ear. Suddenly, I realise how much I miss this. I don't really have friends here, but back at home I was so close to certain people, I can't believe I never noticed until now.

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