Christmas rolled in with plenty of snow and a frigid cold that would freeze the air in your lungs the moment you set foot outside. Everyone packed their bags and made headway home. I stayed behind and decided to make the most of the month, by studying ahead. Which is something I do in every spare minute I have, even though it is quite exhausting, and feel drained to the point of no return.
Today is Christmas Eve but also the day that my probation ends, and I have plans to make the most of that freedom.
I've been turning it around in my head countless times, and I realised that I need to start somewhere, and Graham is a good place to start. From there, I'll work my way towards the top, and figure out this entire mess.
Laira doesn't know, and I decide that is best to keep her out of it since David hovers over her worse than a mother hen. I'm a beacon for danger, and he knows it, just as well as I do.
At least we agree on something. We both changed, there is nothing left of the eighteen-year-old girl he met at that cafe on an early morning and I see very little of the young man I'd met that day.
Admittedly, I'm proud of who he has become, but he is also a reminder of how much I have fucked up.
It is still early morning, and there is not even a single soul left in the building. As much as I enjoy the solitude, I find that it is also daunting to spend Christmas Eve alone.
I go through the motions of my morning routine almost on autopilot. Pull on a pair of trousers, and heavy winter boots, and layer on a few jumpers, because I have no clue where the hell I'm going, and it's best to be prepared. I pack rations, enough food and water to last me a week, and then stuff my face with a simple sandwich. You'd think I'm going to war, but I don't know what to expect on the other side, so I have to keep my wits about me.
What I'm wearing allows me to move freely just in case I run into trouble, the backpack contains solely food and nothing else because I know if I want to survive, I'll need my strength most and foremost. A lesson that I've learned the hard way.
I tuck my two daggers in the soles of my boots and check one last time that I've got everything with me. I haven't told anyone where I'm going so I expect that it will take me some time to get back. Good thing that the only witnesses to my little act of rebellion are the ghosts, and spiders currently sharing the living space, which I'm seriously considering adopting.
One last look around before I call for Shay. I know wherever Shay is Graham will be in his immediate vicinity.
" Shay," I call for him, and he appears at my feet, but unfortunately we don't have time to do the whole meet and greet, because he takes me with him in a ball of blinding light. The moment we reappear, I take a moment to breathe through the queasyness, so I don't redecorate the plush ottoman in front of me with my vomit.
After a minute or so, I feel the nausea slip away, and my stomach settle, only then, do I fully open my eyes to take in my surroundings. Shay is still at my feet on his haunches, looking up at me with those big electric blue eyes, his head tilted to one side and I know he is expecting, a good scratch behind his ears and a kiss on the forehead. Because he is such a good boy. Although that last statement doesn't seem to fit in the picture, I still don't know what Shay is.
Lowering myself at eye level, I do my part and give him a hug which is received with a vigorous wagging fluffy tail, and I sink my nose deeper in his velvety fur. He still smells like the sky after a summer's rain, and I love that scent. Just as much as I love him.
After generously praising him for his effort, I finally pull away, to look around.
I'm in a room, bigger than any room I've ever seen. Its rectangular shape is only dwarfed by the glass-domed ceiling, now fully covered in snow allowing very little light to pass through. It's still fairly early, so I'm assuming that Graham must be asleep, very unlike the Graham I know.
The room is lushly decorated with a medley of furniture, both old and new. There are plants everywhere you look, some are in bloom while others just creep up the walls creating a greenhouse-like environment. I'm pretty sure all the lush greenery is for Shay's sake. Unless Graham is a botanist, but I know he is a thief.
The sound of water trickling draws my gaze to the far wall on the left and I see that there is a small pool of water, with lotus flowers floating on the surface, and more plants creeping on the walls.
It feels as if I've stepped into a different world, but I know for sure that this is Graham's home. Turning around, I spot the kitchen which takes up the entirety of the wall, once again, decorated with a tasteful mix of old and new.
I glance at Shay, that it's still at my feet looking up at me, expectantly. I give him a few more scratches behind his ears, and he whines happily, his tail sweeping the floor left and right at a frantic speed. He can't be that happy to see me, can he?
Turning to the opposite wall, I notice three doors, two are closed whilst the other one on the far side is ajar. The place is dead quiet. I'm slightly worried about what I might find behind those three doors, but I slowly begin to move towards the slightly open one.
I either get attacked, or I will see something that will traumatise me for the rest of my life. I don't know why but Graham seems the type of guy that sleeps naked. That thought gives me pause. I turn on my heels and make my way in the direction of the kitchen, I haven't had coffee today.
If I'm going to see Graham's naked ass first thing in the morning, I might as well be properly caffeinated, so I can mentally prepare myself to cope with him parading his jewels in front of me.
After all, this is his home, and I'm in no position to make demands. Also, I turned up unannounced, so I'm expecting the worst.
It takes me a while to find what I need in the cupboards because Graham is as organised as a five-year-old. Everything is everywhere, and all over the place.
I'm trying to be as silent as possible, not wake him up, because I know he will either be grouchy or will start teasing me. And I'm here for serious business.
Once, I've worked my way around the kitchen I put on the coffee machine and stare at it for a while, as if that would make it work faster. For the record, it doesn't.
Shay follows me into the kitchen and now is sitting at my feet, and it occurs to me that he might be hungry. I know he hunts his food, and I have no clue what Graham feeds the creature.
Slightly embarrassed, I turn to the fridge, fortunately, Shay follows and sits on his hind legs sniffing around, until we find some cooked chicken breast on a plate on one of the shelves. If it is Graham's lunch, then tough tit for him because he'll have to scrounge up something else.
At least I've made someone happy this morning.