“I can’t envision that at all, but I’d be excited to see it when you’re done. Just don’t make the scents too strong, or it might bother actual shifters’ noses.”
“Got it.”
They each took a few bites of the granola, which really was pretty tasty. He started thinking about how he’d lay out the canvas, but a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. He didn’t have any canvases.
Maybe he should get Ro’s advice.
He tried to pull his thoughts together in his head, but he couldn’t quite figure out what to say. It had been a few weeks since he’d talked with Geir about jobs and money, and he thought they’d figured everything out. Yet somehow, days kept passing and he still didn’t have the tools he needed to find work or make his art.
The idea of asking Geir for a credit card or money in his account made him feel nauseous. He wanted to be taken care of, but that was more of an emotional thing. He didn’t want to splash money around or take advantage. Even worse, he didn’t want Geir to think he was trying to use him for his money. He didn’t want Ro to think that either.
It was easy to imagine that Geir didn’t care about his interests. After all, no one else ever had. Maybe, despite Geir’s promising words, he still didn’t expect Declan to stick around. Or maybe there was something about the way that Geir withdrew from the world that made it hard for him to notice or care about such trivial things. Declan was beginning to notice, from the way that Geir talked, that eternity was a really, exhaustingly, long time. Maybe his art really was trivial.
He tested out a few ways to bring up the topic in his head, but everything he considered sounded like some whiny, defensive version of “my rich Daddy didn’t buy me what I wanted.”
No, this was something he would have to figure out on his own. He’d been through much worse before, and he would make things work out somehow, like he always did.
“So, how’s Tier?” he asked instead.
Ro rolled his eyes, but he was getting more used to Declan’s gentle teasing. “He’s fine, I’m sure.”
“What did you bring him today?” Declan had discovered that Ro brought the Chief food every day. Which had to be the cutest thing ever.
“Blueberry muffins.”
“Seriously? How come your man gets blueberry muffins and I don’t?”
If Ro’s skin weren’t so dark, Declan knew he’d be able to see him blush. “He’s not my man. And you made granola anyway.”
“Yes, but I could have muffins and granola. The important question, though, is whether Tier liked them.”
Ro ducked his head. “He said he did. I mean, he always says that, but who knows if it’s true.”
“Um, that’s what guys do when they like you. I made this horrible sort of bean thing my first week here and Geir said he loved it. He’d had, like, three or four bites before I tasted it and realized I’d put in way too much salt.”
“I think people do that when they don’t want to be rude.”
“Or when they’re crazy about you.”
Ro sighed, but he didn’t complain this time.
“Hey, tell me what you think about this color.” Declan leaned forward to give Ro a closer look at his eyeshadow. He’d gone for a more dramatic effect today, with green fading into purple.
“It looks good on you.” Ro replied promptly. “I like the purple.”
Yeah, Declan was totally making progress. He didn’t care if Ro ever wore any makeup, just that he knew it would be OK if he wanted to.
Chapter 20
Geir
Geir headed into the forest after breakfast, looking for somewhere peaceful to sit and take in the day. He was tempted to spend every moment with Declan, but he tried hard to give him space.
That was what people wanted, right? He certainly got frustrated with having people all around. Even before, when he’d been more involved with life, he’d always needed to retreat.
Or perhaps it didn’t matter to Declan. Declan seemed to be perpetually happy. When Geir left, he had some project to complete or some idea to explore. When Geir returned, he greeted him enthusiastically and told stories about his adventures.
Sometimes, he gave in to temptation and followed Declan around. Declan would cook or sketch or read, while Geir sat beside him and simply enjoyed his presence.
More often than he intended to, he would suggest that they go swimming, an invitation which at this point was more a euphemism for getting Declan’s lithe, naked body trapped in his tentacles. In or out of the water, he couldn’t get enough of Declan’s sweet skin and merry laugh.
Declan never seemed to mind having him around, silent and watching, but it had to be too much at some point, right?
Declan was always talking about finding a job or making his art. He wanted to spend more time with the People, maybe give art classes to the children or collaborate with the artists in the tribe. He wanted friends around. Dancing and adventures and internet.
Geir wanted a cave, but Declan wanted the world.
So Geir forced himself to follow his old routines, wandering off most mornings to let the day slip away. When he came home, Declan was there with his stories, usually with some unexpected culinary masterpiece and always with a smile.
Birds darted between the trees, singing to their mates and young, but he had seen so many birds before.
The trees grew and put forth seeds and decayed. But they had always done this, and they always would.
The problem was that he didn’t have anything to do. It was something that he hadn’t noticed before. When Declan was around, he had life and energy.
He would rather be sitting beside Declan while he sketched or watching Declan flit about his kitchen.
He would rather be hoisting Declan onto his shoulders, like he had a couple days ago, so that he could pick the figs at the top of the fig tree.
He would rather be watching Declan squirm in delighted disgust as he watched Geir gut and fillet a fish that he’d caught.
And he’d definitely rather have Declan sitting on his lap and looking up at him adoringly.
Their time together was enchanted, he thought as he clambered over a felled tree. But Declan never seemed to notice his absence.
Aside from that, his life was a blank. Yesterday, he’d swum to the bottom of the lake. The fish swam past, the water tasted of water.
Today, he sat on a rock, and the sun moved across the sky. His heart slowed. His thoughts slowed.
Without Declan, there was no time, because nothing happened.
He hadn’t realized it before, but he thought he might actually be bored.
Chapter 21
Declan
Declan finished washing the dishes, most of his attention on watching Geir through the kitchen window as he left the cabin.
It was day six of Operation: Geir and he had a job to do.
While he packed his backpack, he went over the clues.
At first, Declan had been hesitant about following Geir. He didn’t want to interfere with his top-secret job or kraken-ly business. Or, you know, be annoying.
Over time, though, he’d found Geir enough times to know that he didn’t mind being discovered. He just didn’t understand why he left in the first place.