14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Cyrus

F inley sits cross-legged on the couch with a container of pad thai in one hand and the remote control in the other. Her knee presses comfortably into my thigh, and there's a giant grin on her face. This is how it should have been all along. The two of us, together, getting to know each other.

The need to claim her is like an itch that's worse when we're this close, making it hard to keep some physical distance between us, but being here with her in any capacity is better than being apart. All the tension I've been carrying for six years eases out of my muscles, replaced by a heavy contentment.

"What do you want to watch?" She asks.

"You," I answer.

She chuckles, assuming I'm joking. I'm not. I could study her every expression and never get enough .

"A show? A movie? Comedy? Adventure? Romance? Horror? Documentary?" She flips through different options as she speaks. "I bet you're an action movie guy."

"Actually, no. It might be my least favorite genre."

"Really?"

I nod and steal a bite of her pad thai.

"So what's your favorite?" She takes a piece of chicken from my green curry. "What do you watch when you're by yourself?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

She draws a cross over her heart with her chopsticks.

"I like to watch old B Movies from the 50s. Things like Plan 9 From Outer Space , Creature from the Black Lagoon , Bride of the Monster , you know? Cult classics."

Her attempt to hide her laughter fails and she bursts out, "Why?"

"I find them funny. Plus, the slower pace is relaxing." When she goes for another bite of my curry, I bat her hand away. Cunning little flame kisses my cheek, distracting me enough to get what she's after. I'd let her steal much more than my dinner for a kiss .

I clear my throat. "What I watch most often, though, is The Twilight Zone."

"Okay, that I can understand." She pulls The Twilight Zone up on the TV, and I smile when she immediately goes to my favorite episode.

The story is familiar enough that we both talk throughout, making little remarks about the plot or the actors or just anything that pops to mind. Once the takeout containers are empty, I pull a blanket over Finley as she curls into my side, resting her head on my shoulder.

It doesn't take long for the soothing tones of the narrator's voice to ease my mate to sleep. Her head lulls, falling off my shoulder. I ease her into my arms and carry her up to her room.

She mumbles something as I lay her on her bed, too soft to hear. I don't want to leave her. Everything in me wants to climb into bed and hold her. Instead, I tuck her hair behind her ear, lean over, and kiss the top of her head.

"Soon," I whisper to myself. "Soon."