I'm in the den rereading *Paradise Lost* at three in the morning when my doorbell rings. In the past four hours it has started raining heavily, and the poor girl is drenched.
"I have my stuff out in the car," she says. "I need somewhere to stay and I don't know where else to go but you were always so nice to me and you have really soft bedsheets." Tara doesn't look at my face, but her eyeliner is running from the rain and her crying. I can hear her heart beating. She is in pain. I can't say no.
I say, "Let me help," and I walk out in the rain to her car. She has four bags, three of which I bring in. Being supernaturally strong has its advantages. I bring her things into my office and set them on the futon. "You can sleep in here or you can join me, your choice, but I won't sleep for hours yet." I smile a little. "Big night owl. I don't have a lot of food but you can go out in the morning if you want."
She sets her bag down next to the others and wraps her arms around me, pressing the side of her head into my chest. She sobs as I respond in kind, pressing her close to me. I know that when I'm in a tough mood, physical pressure can help. From how short of a time it takes her to quiet herself to a ragged breathing, she apparently agrees. I stroke her long copper hair gently, like she's something precious that I'm trying not to hurt. It's kind of funny - this is the opposite of how our sessions usually go, with us treating each other like scratching posts. I catch myself smiling at the joke and change my expression immediately, but she hasn't seen. She's resting against me with her eyes closed. I think there are still some silent tears, but it's hard to see from my angle.
I can never think clearly around crying people. I make a split second decision that I recognize I may regret in the future. I say, "I don't have a lot of space, but you can stay as long as you need."
She's still wordless, but she squeezes my waist tighter. I won't deny that it feels good, and not just physically. I feel the warm, *human* emotions associated with helping someone. With my heightened senses, even emotional feelings are amplified, and I feel like I'm glowing from the middle of my chest.
Maybe I'm not as dead as I pretend to be.
After a while she lets me go. She tells me, "He's such a fucking *asshole*."
I sigh lightly. "What happened?"
"We got into a big fight. He's never been a fan of... my profession, but he's never let himself be put in a position where he felt right denying me either." The relationship between Tara and her roommate, Cormac, had been a convoluted one, involving regular sexual encounters but no requiting of the other feelings Tara felt for the werewolf. This caused frequent clashes between them, so I recognized what was going on here. "He was drinking again and found out I had a client last night and just went off. At first it started out as us having some fun, actually, but then he started taking it too seriously." She stared at the floor again, clearly not wanting to admit what happened next. "He hurt me for real. And you know I'm no wimp but he meant it. I could see it in his eyes."
"So you got out of there. Good girl."
"Well, maybe not as fast as I should have. I'm going to have marks..." She still won't look at me. She's so ashamed, but I'm proud of her for leaving at all. I've heard it can be the most difficult thing imaginable.
"Hey," I say, and lift her chin gently to face me. "You're out now. He can't hurt you again here. I'd never allow it." I've dealt with werewolves before, and despite how she had praised his physique before I'm sure I could take him well enough to prevent him from entering my home.
She hugs me again, like she's grateful for my protection. I would never let anything happen to my friends if it was within my power to prevent.
We stay like that for a while, not talking. I rub her back intermittently. She cries again and tires herself out. She practically falls off me onto the futon. I move her bags so she can stretch out, and lay the blanket from the back onto her. She is already asleep.
I bring a glass of water from the kitchen and set it on the side table next to the futon, so she can have some when she wakes up. Then I go back to my book in the den. What an eventful night!
