Page 39 of Found in Obscurity

He walked over, sitting in the corner of the sofa, his back to the wall and legs bent in front of him as he curled himself into a ball. Kit wasn’t letting up though. He pushed and pulled and clawed at the book until it was just beneath Lorin on the floor. He was clicking his teeth at Lorin, growling almost, looking at the book then back at Lorin as if urging him to just take it. Open it. Read what was in it.

Lorin sighed and bent over to take the book, pulling it into his lap and settling it on his knees. Kit hopped up on the sofa next to him and settled as close as he physically could without actually sitting on top of Lorin.

He nosed at the book, and with a last roll of his eyes, Lorin cracked it open. He wouldn’t sleep anyway, he was too disturbed.

He kept thinking he was hearing steps behind him, feeling phantom fingers reaching out for him even if he knew therewas nobody there. Thinking that a face would be in whatever reflective surface he looked at, staring back at him. He kept turning to look behind himself, both hoping and fearing he’d catch the man standing there once again.

None of that happened.

There was just the sound of his own breathing and Kit’s insistent whining as he pawed at the book.

“Okay,” Lorin said. “Okay, we’re good. We can read this.”

Kit settled for a split second, but when Lorin flipped to the first page he went crazy again. He hopped up from his sitting position, trying to get to the book, trying to turn the pages, trying to do something Lorin couldn’t even begin to understand.

“Kit!” He caught the fox before he could tumble off the sofa in his attempts, pulling him closer to himself and away from the book. “What has gotten into you?”

Kit scrambled to get out of his hold, but Lorin had finally lost his patience.

“You need to settle down! I took the book, I am reading it, and I will read the whole thing, I promise. But you have to calm down now.”

Kit whined, but the drive in him eased a little bit. The kicks got softer and the power behind his movements decreased. He seemed tired. He slumped against Lorin and let out another little whimper before quieting down completely. His little body went completely lax and Lorin watched him for a moment, relaxing his hold on him slightly, making it gentler, softer.

He stroked the soft fur, carding his fingers through it, mapping out the spots Kit seemed to like the best. The fox-shaped mark on his palm felt warm at the touch, the raging unease in Lorin’s chest settling a little bit. He stroked rhythmically along Kit’s muzzle and between his eyes until they closed, lulling Kit into slumber.

He extended one finger and touched the tip of one of Kit’s ears, making it twitch wildly. Lorin smiled at the move but resisted doing it again.

He turned to the book again, settling in to read until daytime, his eyes feeling like they were filled with sand.

He was in for a long night.

The book was filled with information he thankfully already knew vaguely, pieces coming back to him as he read. Which was fortunate, because his brain was absolutely not up to taking in anything new.

The book talked about the history of familiars, the importance of them for witches, the different kinds of relationships witches could have with them, the meaning behind the animals witches bonded with and what they said about their character.

All interesting, but common knowledge. He had zero idea why Kit insisted on the book, but the fox was slightly odd anyway, so he just went with it, flipping the pages sluggishly, reading the same words five times before they actually registered in his mind.

He dozed off a few times, head lolling to the side, but Kit obviously sensed him nodding off every time, because he’d spring up and nip at Lorin’s fingers, waking him up so he could keep reading. Apparently the fox was allowed to sleep, but the witch was not.

The sun had come up and settled high in the sky before Lorin decided he just couldn’t do any more.

He brushed Kit’s protests off and marked his page, standing up to make them something to eat for breakfast. And coffee. Lots of coffee.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze. He showered and cleaned the place up some more, taking the trash out into the chill air. It was definitely going to snow later. He shuffled around a little after that, pretended he was reading to appease Kit, typedand deleted texts to his grandmother about the strange man in his house several times. He also started and stopped emails to both his work and his landlord about his stay in Oak’s Hollow several times before abandoning it. He didn’t know how to finish them.

Time seemed to move frustratingly slowly when you were sleep-deprived and slightly scared of your own house.

Lunchtime found him swaying on his feet at his stove, cooking…something, his brain filled with fog.

“Knock, knock!”

Lorin spun around to see the flower wreath guy, Glenn, boldly entering the cabin like he belonged, a basket on each arm. He was bundled up to his nose, flakes of white sticking to his blue bobble hat and matching puffer jacket. Clumps of slush were falling off of his hiking boots and littering the floor.

Lorin was in shock. Until he wasn’t.

“Did you receive an open invitation I didn’t know about? Or is rudeness just hardwired into your DNA?” Lorin demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you in my house?”

“Just being neighborly, neighbor,” Glenn said, voice chirpy and bright, setting the baskets down before taking his outerwear off and hanging it on the coat rack. “Did you know I live just up the path? Like…five miles. We’re practically on each other’s doorsteps!”