Page 14 of To Cuddle A Gremlin (Monsters in Love Side Stories #1)

CHAPTER 14

I sadore didn’t remember the flight. His thoughts were focused solely on the lightning pain in his leg. Bale was an excellent flyer, lifting himself on the thermals while holding onto Isadore as a precious package. Had he really left Sebastian behind? Hells, the poor man would be going out of his mind, and Isadore wasn’t there to stop him from catastrophizing. He remembered telling Sebastian it wasn’t his fault. Isadore hadn't been watching where he was stepping and hit that fucking rock at the precise angle to send him flying.

“We’ll be meeting Lord Typhon soon. Darius contacted him right after he was done with Sebastian. Lord Typhon saved my wings. He will help you out as well,” Bale said as he circled a clearing. Two men waited on the ground, and both were looking up.

“This wasn’t how I meant to greet the Lord of All.” Isadore grimaced. “Fuck.”

“You never run into your Gods under normal situations.” Bale landed with grace before depositing Isadore gently on the prepared litter. “Would you like me to bring your friend here? He seemed a bit shaky.”

“I would be eternally grateful. You have to remind him he didn’t cause this. He’s got this idea that he’s a curse. But he’s not. Promise me!” Isadore pulled himself into a sitting position and stared deep into Bale’s eyes. Someone had to talk some sense into Sebastian.

“Ahh, one of those fellas. I will do my best.” Bale took a flying leap and disappeared into the stormy weather. Isadore eyed Lord Typhon with some trepidation. His human appearance didn’t make sense. In every image Isadore had seen of the great God, he had a multitude of tentacles and the blackest of eyes. To see him in thick boots and a knit hat confounded him. “My lord?”

“So, your insides are trying to exit your outsides. Well, this’ll be a challenge, but I haven’t had this sort of fun since Bale needed me. Don’t look at me like that. I’m a good person.” Lord Typhon ruffled Isadore’s hair with a kind hand. “Where are your tentacles?” Isadore asked, the pain making his thoughts foggy and his normal filter nonexistent.

“They don’t like the ice. I keep getting stuck, and it hurts. Have you tried putting your tongue on a frozen metal object?”

Isadore blinked at the unexpected question. He’d first come into contact with metal here in Granite. “I have not. Is it something I should do?”

“Absolutely not. The worst pain imaginable,” Typhon cut off Isadore’s pants. “Though I imagine you’d disagree otherwise. What have you done?”

“I slipped on a root,” Isadore explained. He glanced down the untouched path. Where was Sebastian? Why hadn’t he arrived yet? He better not have bailed on Isadore. They’d have words if he abandoned Isadore because of his belief in bad luck and curses.

“Roots are dangerous trip hazards. What I’m going to do is reset your leg. This will hurt. There’s no getting around the discomfort. You’ll also have a bit of a limp for a while. But I can heal the bone, so you won’t be immobile. How’s that sound?” Typhon’s words were matter-of-fact while he touched Isadore’s leg. Every motion sent shooting pains throughout Isadore’s body, blinding him. His thoughts scattered as he tried to breathe. Isadore could only hold on to Sebastian. He was his hero, his joy. If Sebastian was beside him, this agony would be a pittance.

“Delightful. Just make the pain go away,” Isadore ordered. Though the real worry was not seeing Sebastian here right now. “Where’s Sebastian? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“Bale said he would retrieve him. We must be patient with the skittish souls. They require delicate handling. I’m sure you’ve realized if you force their hand, bad things will happen, correct?”

“He should fucking believe me. I am not—” Isadore paused as agony spiked. “He’s my person. He’s the one I’ve been looking for.”

“Then he’ll come around. Keep holding onto that hope.” Typhon patted Isadore’s shoulder before rifling around in a small tote. “I have a few spell components I need to locate before we do healing magic.”

The familiar rumble of Sebastian’s car had Isadore relaxing. He had expected Bale to drop him off, but to hear the motor made some of his anxiety float away. Sebastian had arrived. Sebastian heard him and was willing to be by his side.

“Took a few minutes to convince him, but I managed,” Bale announced as he pushed an almost unwilling Sebastian toward the makeshift operating table.

Isadore recognized the fear in Sebastian’s eyes. The combination of Sebastian’s genuine worry and self-reproach swirled in those hazel beauties. Isadore prayed to all gods that Sebastian would realize the guilt was misplaced. “Bas.”

“I didn’t… I wasn’t. Dammit, Isadore, this is my fault. I should have chosen a better day. You could have died. And I should have told you the trail was slick. It always is.” Sebastian wrung his hands as he remained out of arms’ reach.

“Today was absolutely perfect. You aren’t taking that away. So I fell.”

“You broke your leg. You have a compound fracture. Your fucking bone is peeking out from the skin,” Sebastian’s voice kept raising and becoming higher pitched as he ticked off each description of Isadore’s injury.

“I didn’t need to hear about that last one, thank you.” Isadore’s stomach rolled as he imagined the injury. Combined with the already-there nausea and this new information, Isadore vomited. Sebastian was ready with a towel and his water bottle.

“Oh, God. I didn’t realize you were sick. I should have?—”

“Stop panicking. You are to sit by Isadore until I say you can leave him,” Typhon thundered as he dodged the mess. “If you’re going to take ownership of how he broke his leg, you will watch as I fix the bone. It’s the least you can do.”

“Uh, okay.” Sebastian held tight to Isadore’s hand as Typhon painted a cold concoction over Isadore’s leg. Isadore squeezed Sebastian, comforting him. “Don’t look. It’s not pretty.”

“I hadn’t planned on it.” Isadore stared up at the storm-grey sky. The sleet hadn’t made its way to this house yet. For once, he was grateful for the indecisive weather. “What a day for a walk.”

Sebastian made a grunting noise but kept his opinions to himself. “We won’t be able to go out for Light Up night.”

Isadore struggled to sit up, despite both Bale and Typhon holding him down.

“Really Sebastian? Just as I’m about to use magic? I can see why Isadore questioned your loyalty,” Typhon snapped. Sebastian bleached to a milk-white with cherry cheeks.

“Stop arguing, everyone! Typhon, you focus on what you’re doing. Stop listening in on their baseless argument. Sebastian, you think you’re being helpful? You’re not. And Isadore, stop jumping to conclusions and allow yourself to heal,” Bale ordered. “You’re all children. Fucking hell, no wonder Darius is a recluse.”

Isadore fell back once more and allowed himself to relax under Typhon’s gentle magic. Warmth knitted his bones together. The sensation was odd, but kinda nice. Sebastian held his hand, squeezing and releasing in a nervous tic. His anxiety was understandable. This was beyond his comfort level. But he was still there, right by Isadore’s side.

Isadore woke up in a bedroom not his own. The walls were painted a soft grey, and the bed was comfy. Something was different, but he couldn’t place his finger on why his brain said so. Gentle snores to his right were animalistic. The heavy weight on his stomach was also new. Staring down, he met the golden eyes of a black-and-white cat. The creature smiled at him before launching off and disappearing. Isadore groaned at the sudden pressure, which woke up his bed partner.

“What’s going on?” Sebastian mumbled before opening his eyes wide. “You’re awake. I gotta get someone.”

Isadore smiled dimly before lurching upward as Sebastian fell off the bed in his haste. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. The ground’s soft. I’ll be right back.” Sebastian placed a smacking kiss on Isadore’s cheek and scrambled out of the room. Isadore lay on the bed and stared at the popcorn ceiling, baffled by the seeming shift in Sebastian’s behaviour. He was pleased, but the relief was palpable and still confusing. What caused the change?

A man in his mid-thirties, with long black hair pulled away from his face, stepped into Isadore’s room carrying two mugs of steaming herbs. “Hi, I’m Darius, and you’re in my house. What Typhon did to you knocked you on your ass, and he didn’t have a proper recovery spot in his hovel.”

“Right. And Sebastian?” Isadore asked. His mind was still floaty, but the pain in his leg had been muted to something manageable.

“He’s been worried. Typical behaviour for him. Bale told me you had words. So we had a small chat. As old friends do.” Darius sat on the edge of the bed. He passed one mug to Isadore and sipped his own. “He’s terrified.”

“I don’t understand why. Haven’t I proven myself to him? Why can’t he trust me?” Isadore hit the mattress beside him and growled.

Dare waited patiently before speaking. “He hasn’t had the best luck with boyfriends. And when his family began whispering about curses, the words clung to his psyche. You are likely the only person who’s stayed by his side, shouting at him and reminding him his narrative is false. The different angles of his story are at cross-purposes, which caused a lot of anxiety. Just think, he could have dumped your ass with us and abandoned you.”

Isadore wrinkled his nose. The mere idea of Sebastian not showing up wasn’t jiving with the person he knew and cared about. “He’d never. He’s too nice for that.”

“You are worth combating his negativity. You see him as someone worthy of being understood. Do you realize how special that is?” Darius leaned back. “You believe in him so much he’s beginning to see that he’s more than what a few people think. That’s not to say there aren’t going to be setbacks. Cause… whoa, nelly, he’s got a mile of issues. But he’s here. With you.”

“You have shitty bedside talk.” Isadore sipped the fragrant tea and thought about what Darius was trying to say, and it made so much fucking sense. Relationships didn’t stop being work, but the rewards made the effort better for it.

“Never said I was going to be nice. That’s not my thing. Anyway, once Sebastian’s had some time to wake up and get a cookie or something in him, I’ll send him back.” Darius patted his leg gently before standing. “Keep fighting your good fight. Patience is key when dealing with feelings, according to everyone else.”

“I am very familiar with the adage, and I’ve been following it religiously. What is the point of you sharing trite sayings?” Isadore settled against the pillows and blew out the anger.

“Seemed right. Anyway, rest. You can stay here for however long you want. Don’t rush the healing.” Darius sidled out of the door, leaving Isadore alone in the cozy room.

Darius’s parting remarks distracted him from the worry of Sebastian and the dull throb below his knee. To have someone like Darius, both hero and anathema to Granite, give him common platitudes to bolster his ego about his love life, annoyed him. Isadore expected more wisdom or relative experiences, not sayings.

“Isadore?” Sebastian tapped on the door and peered in. His brow was still wrinkled, and a worried look haunted his eyes.

“Don’t stand there and hover. Especially with what you’re hiding. It smells like ginger and deliciousness.” Isadore waggled his fingers, beckoning Sebastian to come closer.

“Bale is an avid baker, and he showed me a few tricks.” Sebastian sidled into the room with a small plate and passed it to Isadore. “I was thinking maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Bale’s cookies? Fuck no, man. They are amazing!” Isadore bit down on the soft baked cookie and moaned. The taste was a combination of flavours he never wanted to end. “And whatever you’re trying to say, I’ll counter it.”

Sebastian sat down near Isadore’s hip. “You don’t even know what’ll come out of my mouth.”

“I don’t have to. I know you, my sweets.” Isadore bussed the sugar-sparkled lips before sitting back and taking his own cookie. “You’re going to tell me you jinxed our date and that’s why my leg is broken. Therefore, you must break us up for fear of something like this happening again.”

“I wasn’t going to say it like that,” Sebastian whined. “You have to see reason.”

“I do, which is why I have an idea. You will go out with Charles a couple of times. He’ll show you that you're not a jinx and that bad luck does not follow you.” Isadore ate another cookie and smiled at Sebastian. Isadore had a momentary concern Charles wouldn’t agree to his plan, but if he explained his thoughts, Charles might jump on board. He wanted to see Isadore and Sebastian succeed.

“You can’t just suggest a person to help me with dating. It’d feel like I’m using them. Like what happens if my bad luck curse happens?” Sebastian flailed, almost falling off the bed. “He has to know?—“

“He’s my best friend, Bas. I tell him most everything about the events in my life. He sympathizes with you. He’s really happy for me. It’s a good thing.” Isadore scooted over on the bed and patted the empty spot for Sebastian. He only hesitated for a brief minute before settling beside Isadore.

“I guess. But Isadore…” Sebastian laced their fingers together and shook his head, unable to continue. Isadore took the hand-holding as a gift and didn’t push. Sebastian was at the end of his tether.

He hadn't said no. He hadn't run out of the room as though his hair were on fire. Isadore accepted that this was the best he could do under the circumstances. It was as Darius said. Sebastian was still here in the house, with Isadore, when he could have left. He was sitting beside Isadore, their hands together.

This was the win Isadore was looking for.