Helanie:
"What? What is that look?" I couldn’t understand why he kept glaring at like that.
"You examined his body? Even after I told you to stay away from him?" Norman hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes clearly showing his disapproval.
"It’s not like I did sothing wrong. He ca in shirtless! What did you expect to do? Tell him, ’Hey, put on so damn shirt because your brother won’t like it’?" I groaned, reaching to snatch the cotton swab from his hand, but he quickly grabbed it back.
"I told you I don’t need your help. It’s inapp—" he started but stopped abruptly when he noticed I wasn’t listening anymore. I had leaned down to take a closer look at the bite mark on Emt’s neck.
"How many tis do I have to tell you to stop examining him?" Norman’s sudden yelling startled , making step back instinctively.
"He wouldn’t be okay with you staring at his bare chest—" he began, but before he could make it sound even more awkward, I jumped in to defend myself.
"Can you stop making everything sound so sexual? I’m just worried about him!" I snapped, not understanding why he was so insistent on keeping away from Emt right now.
"You don’t need to be. Besides, he probably transitioned, ca across so rogue, and got into a fight," he explained, offering his theory.
I didn’t find his explanation convincing at all, but since he kept demanding that I keep my distance, I decided to respect his wishes. I wouldn’t want Emt to feel uncomfortable.
With a heavy sigh, I walked away and plopped down on the chair with a thud, annoyed beyond belief with Norman. He was like a man plucked straight from my worst nightmares.
I watched him work on Emt’s wounds, knowing full well that Emt would heal completely by morning. Until then, though, Norman was doing his part. Once he finished tending to the injuries and had even managed to get a shirt on Emt, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands before coming back to stand by the bed.
"So, what exactly happened that brought my brother here?" Now that he was done with Emt, he thought I’d entertain his questions.
I didn’t respond and kept staring out the window. He couldn’t control . First, he wanted to shut up, and now he wanted answers.
"I believe I’m asking you sothing," I could hear the frustration dripping from his voice.
"Your brother already told you everything. Stop looking for excuses to talk to ," I replied, feeling oddly satisfied with how easily I got under his skin. Every ti I hinted at him wanting my attention, it seed to send him into full beast mode.
"Huh? ? You think I want to talk to you?" he hissed, but I held up my palm to silence him.
"Don’t co asking for my help next ti," he shot back. He was such a baby with anger issues. I didn’t say anything else, and he, clearly irritated, stord over and grabbed the chair I was planning to rest my feet on.
With an annoyed huff, he yanked the chair away and sat on it with dramatic force. The poor chair didn’t stand a chance—under his weight, it creaked and then suddenly gave out.
The next thing I knew, Norman was falling to the ground in slow motion, right before my eyes.
His expression was priceless. His eyes widened in shock, and a deep frown crept across his face as if he couldn’t comprehend that he was actually falling. Then, with a resounding thud, his backside hit the ground, and his eyes shut briefly in disbelief.
A wave of laughter bubbled up from my stomach and burst out of like a force I couldn’t contain. I laughed harder than I had in years, so much that my eyes teared up and my vision blurred.
I couldn’t even see his reaction anymore because my eyes had practically shut from laughing so hard. My mouth was wide open, and I could barely catch my breath.
"You have no sha," I faintly heard his voice through my laughter, which began to fade as I struggled to regain control.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, I found Norman leaning over , his finger pointing in my face, his expression furious.
"What—did I—do?" I tried to stifle my laughter, but another uncontrollable giggle escaped . I accidentally spit on his finger in the process.
"Ew!" he pulled his hand back and wiped his finger on his shirt to clean it.
"You’re acting like a child," he snapped, clearly pissed off. I could tell he wasn’t used to experiencing sothing as humiliating as a fall.
"Okay, okay—I’m sorry. Are you...hurt?" I asked, managing to straighten my face for a mont.
He was breathing like a bull, his chest rising and falling as his eyes lingered on my face. After a mont, he scoffed, about to respond—probably to say he was fine—but then, unfortunately, I lost it again. The laughter bubbled out of until tears were streaming down my cheeks.
"You’re so annoying, Helanie," I heard him mutter in frustration.
He turned away, walked over to the small closet on the side, and grabbed a sheet. To my surprise, he spread it out on the floor next to the bed and sat down in the dark. That was...odd.
I had expected him to demand the couch or sothing more comfortable, but instead, he leaned his back against the wall and stretched his legs out as if it didn’t bother him at all.
The room fell silent, and my laughter finally died down. Guilt crept in—I did feel bad, but honestly, his fall had been so funny. For once, he had looked—funny.
I noticed him shifting his legs slightly. One foot rested on top of the other, and every now and then, he’d move one foot, shaking it a little.
It went on for a while. I had my legs pulled up to my chest, dozing off here and there, but every ti I woke up, he was still awake. His legs kept shaking throughout the night.
And then I began to wonder—was he not sleepy? He had stord into the motel like a man on a mission, so I figured he must have been exhausted, even for soone as strong as a werewolf.
But sleep always won with . After a few tis of waking up, I eventually gave in and drifted off completely.
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