Les Liasons Dangereues (Adela)

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

Not many understood the complexities of the human mind, much less their thought patterns. Humans were complex creatures with passions, ideals, desires but for every complex creature that walked this planet, there was always something a tad more gifted. Werewolves were caught in a catch twenty two, better known as the damned if you do - damned if you don't. When a person was turned into a wolf, if they had been lucky enough to survive the encounter, every one of their senses increased dramatically. Strength, sight, smell, touch, everything... including the their personality traits. It was funny, those most dominate as humans were often the most dominate as wolves, those who were passive had that transfer over as well. No matter what the personality of the human, the wolf seemed to bring that out even more. The part that was difficult was finding a balance between the man and the wolf. Both had to come to terms with themselves. The question most werewolves asked themselves was the wolf inside of them a different entity than themselves? This had been the question Josef had longed tried answering. His wolf was been near dominating in whomever he met, as a wolf or human, Jo (as Josef now called him) did things that even made the human shake his head. Even then, though, Josef felt that Jo was just his subconscious trying to come out, trying to make Josef the man... the wolf he should have been. Josef had fought with his wolf on a continual basis for control until a night five days ago... 'The Show of the Year' as it had been called led to a series of events that would challenge Josef and finally have he and Jo come to terms with what they truly were. These events centered not around several objects or wants but around a single desire... something he had once thought his forbidden fruit... a female of his own species.

For the past three and a half days, almost four, since arriving in Paris Josef had one purpose, one goal in mind. He had to find her. The people of Paris were extremes, from what Abad had experienced. Either they were very nice or very rude to foreigners. Some rudeness could be attributed to daily life in such a large city but still. Abad had remained quiet the entire time, only speaking a total of three of four sentences and that was when he was buying things such as the ruffled map, the sharpie pen, the mountain dew (whose bottle still sat empty in his pocket for whatever reason) and a half empty bottle of Aspirin. The Tylenol had been bought three nights prior, when a fever had set in, a fever that still ravaged his body. The olive skinned Syrian had turned slightly pale... he was as white as any Arab would ever get, a testament to his dedication in trying to find his mate and his outright stupidity for not seeking medical aid. This was were the damned if you do - damned if you don't problem came in. With how things ended in New York, though they seemed civil there was too much that had been left unspoken. Josef had allowed the woman he now claimed as his mate to leave freely, to have time to think to herself. It did not help that moments before her departure and after a night of incredibly passionate expression of desire, the two had a fight and a vicisious one at that. The fight had hurt both internally, in places unseen and unfelt by anyone except them. They each knew of the deep cuts they made and both seemed to regret it. She had left before he could fix things. He was here now and his swollen red nose, ravaged by cold air, the infection that ravaged his body from the unhealed wound in his hand and the constant sniffing was not going to stop until he found her.

He had been down just about every street in every district except two. Two districts remained. He was leaving the Wilshire District and heading into another, the name of which he did not know nor did he care to even look up on his map. He would just walk and sniff. The true reason he did not want to use the map was his hand was numb, the one injured from the pad injury he'd gotten back in New York. With no medical care received and only Neosporan and new gauze to wrap his hand, it was bound to happen. The flesh on his palm had turned a burgundy, the actual wound a shade darker than the surrounding flesh. The infection had begun to spread, his body had retaliated with a fever but the fever did not stop. How many tylenol had he taken? He didn't know. Usually a bottle had sixty pills and with it about half empty, he assumed he took between 20-40 in a three day span. Oops. The human liver could only take so much. Sure his wolf body could handle it, expel it if he could change but the wound injury was to painful as wolf to even attempt the change and so far, Josef did not care how many pills he popped so long as it kept him walking long enough to find her. As he entered the district, his body wanted to collapse, his head had gotten light and dizzy.

"Adela..." Josef muttered. Her Blackcherry, musk and forest scent was ripe, dancing in the air.

With eyes that had dark circles beneath from exhaustion, Josef looked around. He could not see her but she was either here or just passed by... but where was she? He stood in the same spot but spun in several circles, his eyes locking onto any and every figure he saw. Her scent... so strong... so very strong... disappointment set in as he realized she must have just passed through but still a trail lingered on the air. Faint yes but still a trail none the less. Looking at to a sign, he noted he was at a cafe' name Paul. Jo was writhing inside, whining and begging for a change. Even if he had a hurt hand, he wanted Dela'. He wanted out. Josef was simply exhausted, tired and nearly beaten by an infection caused by organisms microscopic in size. Woofy felt it was his turn but doing it during the day, in the middle of Paris, surrounded by people. Abad was not stupid and he held Jo down. His brown eyes traced the ground, looking for any signs of Jager while his nose did the actual work. Like a blood hound on the trail of a Raccoon, Josef was hot on Adelas. His chest slammed once more against his chest and though it was tolerable before, in the throws of passion, it was still filled with passion but the body was too tired. The heart pounded led to labored breathing and in the crisp mid morning air, Josef was near panting. He let his eyes shut and he simply walked down a street. He was not blind, having spotted the street he noted no major obstacles in his way so long as he walked in a strait line. The bags were simply weighing them down and it did not help that more of his sweat seemed to roll into the corners of them and cause a light stinging. How far he walked, he did not know. All he knew was his feet stopped moving and his nose stopped sniffing which drew his eyes open. Josef was standing in front of an Iron fence, surrounding a five story townhouse like structure. Across the street it appeared to be a school of some sort, private or public he could not tell and did not care. His nose took a large sniff in and his heard turned back to the iron gates. This was Jagers home.

He entered the gates quietly. If she was here, she would have smelled him by now. The residence looked quiet. The building reminded him of the those old 1980's ghost movies where a family moves into a beautiful home and it all goes to hell. The small garden, the quiet street only added to the effect. Abad liked scary movies actually, though right now was not a time for cliche references. He entered the building and noticed it was actually five different apartments, each floor of the townhouse being one. The outside of the home was large which only showed how big each floor must have been. He climbed the stairs, really, he struggled. One foot, followed by another, then another. The feeling in his hand was starting to come back and pain was setting in once more. Josef pushed himself onward, but when the Syrian made it to the third, he stopped, leaned against the railing and pulled the bottle of Tylenol out. Opening it, he tapped two pills into his hand. Shakingly he raised it to his lips though the hand shaking and seemingly dumped the pills onto the floor. The tapped and bounced several steps behind. Josef raised the bottle and tapped two pills into his mouth though the bottle slipped, spilling fourteen pills across the floor. His eyes widened. He'd taken more than he expected in a three day span. Blinking a couple times, he picked the now empty bottle up, some of the pills but left the others. Labored stilled, he finished his assent and soon found himself at what he presumed was her door. Quietly he read what was written upon it.

"Where thou art - that - is Home."

Gently he pushed the door open and shut it quietly behind him...

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

The hallway of the apartment was simply yet stunning. Art lined its eyes, in such a way that it seemed to be a wider expanse than it was. One one side of the wall was a six foot abstract painting that was a beautiful representation of the ocean. This was the kind of art that Josef respected, Josef liked. In the Islamic faith, it was improper to paint the face of a person. Based on the Qu'ran, it was felt that the eyes of a person were a window into their soul. Upon looking at or into a persons eyes, one could learn all they needed to know. Abad had grown up in a culture that valued geometrical shapes and paintings of nature over the paintings of people. Still, there were some paintings of people that Abad respected and admired. He'd cast aside his faith awhile back and it was only proper that he open his mind to other view points, other cultures. That was the problem with the modern world. Everything was moving forward, it seemed, except the Arabian east, which desperately clung onto a fading and failing ideology that if it, in itself, did not change, would result in the depletion of a historically rich and vibrant culture. When Abad entered the living space it was closed in and tight though comfortable though various paintings lined the walls and furniture. Some finished, some unfinished. The walls to the apartment cause his attention next, canary yellow. The love seat was burgundy and the coffee table a dark brown, almost black. The window was blocking the outside light from coming in and when Abad looked at the angle the paintings were set, he realized if the light was allowed it, it would damage the portraits. He noted a door which he assumed led to a balcony. The rest of the living space was fit just right, a smaller flat screen television and under it sat a cabinet. This room smelled of Adela. He closed his eyes and allowed her to befall him. Was it common for a mate to do this? Josef saw something he liked, something he had not expected too and felt an unwavering connection towards her. She was his mate, it was his right to find her and if she so chose, her right to find him.

Reopening his eyes, the Syrian glanced to the left, to another small hallway that seemed to lead to the rest of the apartment. The walls were still yellow which meant it had the same paint scheme throughout. The first door he approached on the left, he quietly opened with his good hand and peeked inside. Appearing to be a small bedroom converted into a studio, it had a small day bed and book case but the rest was consumed by painting supplies. The strength of the scent here meant Adela spent much of her time within. Quietly he walked in and peeked out the window, which was not covered by the curtains. It overlooked the playground of the school he'd seen. Leaving the room, he shut the door just as quietly as he had opened it and turned his attention to the next door on the right. A small restroom with a baby duck painting. Toilet, vanity mirror and a... shower. His eyes lingered on the shower, the need for the warmth against his flesh was needed but this was not his home, this was not his shower. He was here... uninvited. Closing the bathroom door, he came to the last door of the hall and opened it. Adelas scent was the strongest here and as the room came into full view he realized this was the Master bedroom. The bed was a canopy style with red and purple coverings. The base of the bed held a small wooden box, though he did not open it. There was a closet, which he could only assume held her clothing as did the dresser. He noted another door in the room and quietly entered. The bathroom was exquisite. Everything being white from the tile to the walls. The tub was a porcelain stand alone and had a soft powder blue curtain which surrounded it. A small pot of blue flowers sat at a small window sill in the bathroom. His mate had taste.

Josef left the bathroom and the master bedroom, though it took several moments longer as he allowed himself to absorb her scent once more. Finally Josef shut the door, Jo protesting. Jo was awake, vibrant and wanted to come out though it was not the time. He was in no physical state and if Adela came home to the sight of a full blown wolf in her house, her reaction would only be predictable. She'd kick his ass. Instead, Josef made his way back out to the living area and into the kitchen. Instead of prying through the fridge for food or the cupboards for a glass to drink from, Abad went to the sink and unwrapped his wounded hand. A wolf's sense of smell was strong and Abad could smell the infection on him for over a day, it was strong but he'd ignored it. Had any other wolf encountered him, it was good odds they would try and take him out. The law of the jungle was to take out the weaker animal and Josef was in no place to fight. Even though he had gotten the advantage of Adela in his own home, a stunt he would never attempt again, he was in no state to try and put a dominating role on her. She was his mate, no matter what she thought but right now, she was the stronger of the two. He was simply too sick. Turning on luke warm water, Abad let the gauze fall into the sink. His eyes glanced over the wound. With fingers from his good hand, he pressed on the wound. No puss which meant the infection was starting to show signs of subsiding. Josefs head ached, his eyes throbbed and his hand shot searing pain through his arm. Placing it directly under the water, he opened the wound with two fingers and began to rinse it out. He bit down on his lip, hard. When he tasted blood, Abad thought he had bit through flesh again but when it started dripping into the sink, being swirled about before disappearing into the drain, he felt his nose.

Blood.

His nose had finally been given a rest since arriving in the apartment though the sudden rush of warm air compared to the cold outside, its tenderness, it exhaustion seemed to finally catch up with him. His hair was scruffy, his body covered in a cold sweat, pale, and in pain, Josef was a mess... a devoted, dedicated mess but still a mess none the less.

[tinkerbell]

“Merci,” Adela smiled at the elderly lady who was handing back her change. She jammed the cash into an already full wallet, grabbed her bag and coffee and started out the door. She’s spent most of the morning at the nearby park. Her camera bag was slung over her shoulder. Gaining inspiration could be a daunting task. Adela brought the coffee up to her lips. Paul’s made absolutely the best cappuccino in Europe. And she knew from first had experience. She’d visited many other cafes and they just couldn’t compare. Adela looked down to be sure she had everything. Milk, orange juice, bread, ice cream, and eggs. The staples for a young girl such as herself. She stepped into the street and sighed. The sun was finally trying to come out. Its warm rays felt divine on her skin and lit her hair up. Her steps carried her down the sidewalk and she hummed a song softly. Adela was certainly no singer but she tried. “My… my….my. How you bright lights shines. Let your words live on, far beyond this life… Mmmmmh.” Dressed a simple white dress and matching sandals, Adela looked so much younger than she was. Maybe fifteen? If she were lucky. And her happy-go-lucky demeanor added to the effect. She was just so happy that the sun was shining. She looked down at her watch. Just enough time to shower and fix a sandwich before class today. She was presenting a painting she’d been working on before New York…. Speaking of New York….

Whiplash hurt. Adela stopped so suddenly as a breeze blew by her that it hurt. “No,” She exhaled, her eyes growing huge as she recognized the scent, “No.” She inhaled again, this time deliberately using her nose to get a good whiff of the air. “Yes.” She ran. Adela could hear the eggs she had just bought cracking as the bag slammed against her legs. Her coffee spilled over its top, burning her hand. She simply dropped the cup. It would hurt later but right now her body was numb. She couldn’t feel her legs churning beneath her but she was moving. She couldn’t feel her heart beating but she was still alive. The werewolf skidded to a stop at the entrance to her apartment. She tiptoed slowly the through the gate. Now she could feel her heart, pounding against her chest and trying to escape through her throat. Why! Why had he come after her. He must be crazy. She was being stalked by a sociopath. Dela barked a disagreement in her mind. Of course he’d come after her. He loved her. Adela scoffed at the thought. He didn’t even know her. And yet, he was upstairs. In her apartment. As quietly as possibly, Adela began to ascend the stairs. It was hard in a building that was older than she was. The stairs creaked beneath her feet. He would hear her coming. Smell her. “Josef?” She called out cautiously. As she reached the top of the next flight, Adela bent down and picked up an empty bottle of Tylenol. The little pills were scattered across the floor. She didn’t understand. Tucking the bottle into her purse, she continued up the stairs.

Okay, so how was she going to handle this. He was in her territory now. She had every right to be furious with him. He could have called! But, he didn’t have her number. Still. He was being a creeper, following her from New York to Paris. “Josef!” Adela called him named. But it was more a command. She wanted an answer. Finally, she reached her floor. His smell was intoxicating. But there was something else mixed in. It reminded her of the smell of rotting flesh. Strange. “Josef! Answer me!” Adela very slowly turned the door knob and began opening the door. “I know you’re here. Now answer me!” She took a breath. She could smell something else that was all too familiar to a werewolf: Blood. Was he bleeding? Hurt? She stopped herself. She didn’t know why he was here. What if he wanted to hurt her? She had to play it safe. She set down the grocery bag and her purse and then pulled the camera off her shoulder. She left them all outside the door. The door remained opened just a few inches. She did not want to close herself in a room with him until she had more information. So she left an escape route. “Josef.” Her voice was gentler this time, but still stern. What the hell was he doing here?

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

His fingers continued to scrub at the wound, opening the flesh, brushing a finger through wiping away any built up scabbing, any infections puss that might have been hiding. It hurt like nothing else. Bodies were frail and deliquet. Abad needed to be careful. This was going to leave one nasty scar. He'd been so wrapped up in his wound that it was a stronger presence of her sent that alerted his ears to start listening. Steps, quiet and cautious but steps. Someone was coming up. His eyes looked towards the apartments hallway. She heard him call his name once, "Josef?" He did not reply. He waited, his eyes not wavering from their lock on the hallway while his hand went back to trying to clean the wound. She called out to him again, this time a absolute command, "Josef!" She was agitated or getting close to it. Still he heard her continued approach. When Adela reached the apartment floor, her voice was changing. "Josef! Answer me!" Jo was going wild, barking like a mad dog within, desperate to let out a signal that he was here but Josef held back, still confining the wolf within, "I know you're here. Now answer me!" As he opened his mouth to speak, his lip snarled as his eyes shot down to his hand. His finger pressed too far in. When he heard the door he shut the water off and, by reflex, hid his wounded hand. Shoving the gauze into a small trash bin under the cabinet, "Josef." She was drawing closer and though a part of him wanted to go meet with her, another part, a part that actually grew fearful realizing the stupidity of his move in coming here wanted to hide. His nose still bleed and had been for some time, unstopped, it had dripped all over the sink, his clothes, before he finally covered it with his good hand, trying to hold back the crimson fluid.

Instinct now took over. Josef walked from the sink kneeled to the floor, pressing his body firmly up against the wall he brought his knees to his chest. The dominate side of him wanted to emerge and take charge but even it held back knowing it was in no state to do such. The best bet to play it safe and make it past the next moments alive was to realize that here and now, Adela was Queen. His eyes drew heavy and finally closed. The mixture of exhaustion, the fever and her scent were too inviting, his eyes had to shut though he remained fully away. Pressing his head firmly against the wall, he gulped hard, his hand still covering the bottom half of his face while his wounded still remained hidden away. What kind of wolf was she? The kind that would see an injured dominate, a rival and try and to him out or the kind that remembered New York and what had been? Her voice was going in different tones and had been. Cautious to agitated to uncertain. She wanted to know why he was here but first she wanted him to respond to her. "I'm here." was all he said before he lowered his forehead onto his knees. Huge risk, dangerous risk to come into Adelas territory, her home like this. He invaded her space, even if he had no intent of taking it from her. He wanted Adela not her personal belongings. This all was hers and would remain as such. Abad just wanted to see his mate.

Trying to hide what she could obviously smell was pathetic and useless. Instead, he lowered his knees, lowered the now blood covered hand from his face but still hid the injured one. His eyes remained closed. Abad liked the taste of blood, well more specifically, Jo liked the taste and smell of blood but when it was his own, the stomach churned. Did he regret coming to Paris? No. Did he regret leaving New York? No. Was he stupid? Probably. Even if Adela came in here and tore him apart, at least he got to see her one more time, well, that's if she would come to look at him. For all she knew, Adela could have thought that Josef was just as much of a threat to her as he temporarily thought she was to him. The anticipation was building up, an anticipation he did not like. It was time to just come out, "Adela... I'm in the kitchen." Well duh! She could have figured that out. Why he argued with himself over everything, he did not know but it felt right. At least he told her where he was specifically, even if it was pointless. "You smell it... don't you." The reference to the infection, to his wound. "I'm no..." he gulped. "...threat." His voice was shaky and uneven, sporadic in emotions the only constant was the pain written on it.

[tinkerbell]

Something was wrong. Very very wrong. She should have guessed that something was wrong when she smelt the blood and rotting skin. Adela snatched her bags up and flung the door open and bolted towards the kitchen. She stopped dead in her tracks and she stared down at Josef. He was incredibly pale and the was blood and sweat everywhere. He was sick. Suddenly, it no longer mattered why he was here. Just that he left in one piece, alive and well. Adela felt her heart breaking as she stared down at the pathetic werewolf. “Josef,” She fell to her knees in front of him, the contents of her bags spilling out over the kitchen. Reaching out to his face, she gasped as he realized how hot he was. Adela yanked his hand out from behind him. She looked down at the large, infected cut. “Oh, Josef.” She placed the hand gently on the tile floor. She began scrounging around looking for something. “Stupid, stupid, prideful, egotistical, stupid werewolf.” At last, she found her cell phone and flipped it open. She dialed 115. “Yah. J'ai besoin d'une ambulance.“ She paused, looking at Josef. “Fièvre. Saignement de nez. Main blessée. Yah. Eh, Rue du Pre aux Clercs. Germain. Merci.” She closed the phone and placed it on the counter behind Josef.

Adela stared at him for several moments, looking over his pale face, blood stained shirt and pants. She shook her head, “What are you doing?” She stood up quickly and grabbed a paper towel from the cabinet. Adela scooted closer to him, “Lay down.” He didn’t have an option. “You’re going to the hospital.” He didn’t have an option there either. And if he wanted to fight her on it, then he could lose. His choice. Adela got behind him so she could help him lay down. She positioned him so that his head was resting in her lap. Looks like she was skipping class today. With one hand she helped him hold this tissue to his nose and with the other hand she stroked his forehead softly. “Do I want to know why you’re here?” Adela, though gentle, was not happy. Not only had he come across the Atlantic but he had sacrificed his health to come see her. “How long have you been in Paris?”

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

"Stupid, stupid, prideful, egotistical, stupid werewolf."

He let out a light smile. His eyes would not open, not anymore. His nose was doing the seeing now, as was any part of his body she touched. Her voice had gone from near anger to absolute concern. She spoke into french in what he assumed was a phone. What she said, he had not a clue though Josef thought he heard the word Ambulance. When she stopped speaking, he felt her eyes peering onto him. Women had that skill, to stare down a man and even if he was not looking at her, he felt it, he knew he was being looked at. She asked what he was doing but he was too exhausted to answer. Instead he followed her commands, he laid down on her lap, following the movements of her hands but when she stated "You're going to the hospital." a low growl emerged from his throat. Jo and Josef hated hospitals, more specifically, they hated needles. It did not how big or small, he did not like needles. The grip she held on him to keep him down was a signal that an growling was futile. Gently he felt a tissue wrap against his nose and a hand stroke his forehead, almost as gently as she had ran her fingers through her hair that morning. Josef was fighting off sleep. He knew two things the doctors would discover, how messed up the wound was and how much Tylenol he had pumped into his system. If he'd been able to shift he could spit what pills were left up and hopefully recover but if French physicians were like American or Syrian, they'd clean his system as best he can while checking the state of his liver and kidneys. If he had not done serious damage to them, he would be lucky.

"Do I want to know why you're here?" She was not happy yet her voice remained cautiously gentle. "How long have you been in Paris?" Uh-oh was all he could think. She'd either find it romantic, his answer that is, or the more probable reaction... anger. He did the best he could in speaking, the talking would at least keep him conscious, "Almost four days. I caught a flight about three hours after your's but due to a delay I arrived in Paris six hours after your flight landed." He had kept track of her plane. When he arrived in Paris, the big billboard type screens kept updates on flights and when he had landed he simply used the process of elimination to calculate which flight she had been on based on time she would have left and the length of a New York to Paris flight, then checked the screens for a flight matching those statistics. He'd found it and he felt confident that he located her flight. She had a six hour head start. A six hour head start that turned into a near four day adventure. "I couldn't leave things the way they were, the way we left them. It was not fair to you or to me but hey I gave you you're time, four days." Ok so it was a bad joke but he deserved a break. "Each day I walked the streets trying to catch a scent of you. Sometimes I thought I was close then I lost your scent. I finally got ahold of it this morning down by a place called Paul's and luckily I picked up on you're trail and followed it here." He paused and gulped. It was hard to speak to Adela. Not that he was at a loss for words but if she held any shred of respect for him, he did not want to lose it. The stroking continued and it felt good. It took a lot to stay awake. Not ignoring the previous question, 'Do I want to know why you're here?' he'd partially answered it but no matter how he phrased it, what excuses he used - it all came back to the same reason. His breathing was labored, pain was starting to emerge in his abdomen and his hand ached. After a few moments of silence...

"I came for you."

[tinkerbell]

"I came for you." Adela wanted to smile and kiss him and hold him. But instead she simply sighed, "You could have just said four days. I'd have figured out the rest." Part of her realized suddenly how dedicated he was to her. It made her feel safe, needed, wanted. But another part of her screamed danger. This wasn't normal. Or, was it for a werewolf? Anyways, what was she supposed to do? Now he knew where she lived so there was no leaving him at the hospital. He'd probably want her to stay with him while he was there. She wondered if they'd have to keep him overnight. Hopefully, they could just send him home with some antibiotics. Speaking of which, "How many Tylenol did you take? Are you trying to overdose? I thought you wanted to lived to see me. Not the best way to go about it." Her strokes on his forehead began slightly stronger as she spoke, rising with her agitation. "Alright," She began to lift up on his shoulders, "Sit up, wolf." Adela was confident that she could support all of his weight if he needed it. She might look fragile but she knew she was stronger than the average man. Supporting his back, she reached around him and grabbed the carton of orange juice. "Here," She handed it to him, "I owe you one." What would the paramedics think? She thought for a moment. He was a mess. So was her kitchen. Did she want to take him to the hospital? Could he control his wolf in this state? "Josef... How, in control are you? Will it be okay if we go to the hospital?" Maybe he could heal without antibiotics. In his wolf form, he would heal a lot faster. And she had forgotten to give the 115 dispatcher her apartment number.

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

"If I change, I'll lose it." Blatant reply. Jo agreed. The wolf would try and bolt, try to flee before the ambulance arrived. Though he would not get far and would probably be captured by local authorities as a wild animal, or worse outright killed. She'd sat him up and wanted to know how many Tylenol he'd taken. He tried to focus his eyes to glance at her, he truly did but still could not get the focus right. All he remembered over the next several minutes was brief glimpses of light between intermittent darkness. He thought he heard the sound of doors slamming, sirens. He thought he saw Adela and some unknown man hovering above him with bright lights. Josef even thought his body was strapped to something but the constant light and darkness were screwing with him. "Ade...ade... no nee......" He felt his body bounce once - was he in an ambulance? - before everything went dark.

The sudden jerk to his body caused his eyes to slowly open. Everything was a blur at first and were slow to react and focus. A blue ceiling and floor, windows on three sides of his room, the blinds open, a television in the upper corner of the room with some French Soap Drama playing and the sound of light beeping. As his eyes sharpened, Josef tried to move about the bed though his stomach hurt, felt empty. Turning his head he looked at a series of medical monitors and i.v. system hooked to the back of his hands, oxygen tubes in his nose and... his injured hand completely wrapped in bandages. He was in a hospital room. The sights, the sounds, the smells - everything came at him. He moaned lightly which drew a figure from behind his bed, an older gent dressed in a white coat.

"You're lucky." The gentleman said. Middle aged and with a classic Captain Picard balding dome, he gave Josef a smile though his eyes were scolding. "You're... dear friend told us what happened. You cut your hand back in the States, came here and ignored her urging for medical care. Instead you relied on antibiotic cream and Tylenol?" Though he said the story, he phrased it like a question. "Between you and me, I know you did not try and kill yourself. When we pumped your stomach we pulled some pills out while we could not find others. You were obviously trying to break your own fever though you did it wrong. Have you ever thought of taking a cold shower over popping Tylenol like their Pez candy?" He grabbed a chart that had been hanging at the end of the bed and looked it over, "You also gave the medic who aided you a scare. He said you growled at him like a dog." The doctor laughed. "But hey, no one likes Paramedics anyway. Their just the taxi drivers of the medical world." What an insult.

Josef had remained silent, instead his eyes shifted about as if trying to spot Adela. Had she gotten him here and simply left? Josef hoped not but would understand why if she had. He could still smell her, on him though but when he looked down, a thin white robe had replaced his previous clothes which were bundled up in a plastic bag in the corner. What the doctor said next caught his attention.

"You need to be cleaned. I understand your Arab but hospital policy is that all patients brought in by ambulance are sponge bathed." The doctor said the board down and waved a nurse in. The woman entered wit a metal pan of water and a bright yellow sponge as well as.. a bottle of Johnson body soap and lotion that seemed like they should have been used on a child. His eyes brow rose as he thought she could not have possibly been thinking of doing it. Surely someone else would bath him, if not he himself doing it. The nurse glanced over Abad, who jerked his leg away, catching the doctors attention.

"You can't do it yourself and no one else is available, I would but I have another patient and unless your friend wants too then your stuck. I'll be back when you smell a little better." The doctor left the two in the room.

'Where was Adela?' The nurse placed her hand on his knee, causing a low growl to emerge from Josef. The nurse looked at him before sliding the sponge down his calm. Again he jerked his leg away. He did not want her touching him. "Where is she?" Josef asked. The nurse simply gave him a glance while she brought the sponge up and past his knee, up the thigh and tad too close for comfort. Again he let out a low growl and again the nurse ignored him. Josef was getting angry and willing to let Jo out if the nurse didn't stop.

[tinkerbell]

Just outside the door to Josef's room, Adela's soft laughter filled the hallway. "Merci, you are too kind, monsieur." A handsome young doctor asked her a question in French, "No, no, eh, Mon ami devrait être libre d'aller bientôt. Merci pour votre conseil. Adieu." Adela stepped into the room, a pleasant smile on her face. She was still wearing the same white dress she had been earlier, but she was also wearing a large white coat with “Dr Fitzroy” sewn into the pocket. Her dress had been stained with Josef’s blood and the hospital was cold. The doctor had been nice enough to let her borrow his coat. Adela thought she looked pretty smart in it. She saw Josef and smiled, “You’re awake.” Then she realized there was a problem. Adela looked at the nurse with a questioning look. The nurse rolled her eyes and spoke something quickly in French. Adela’s eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped suddenly. The werewolf was suddenly overcome with a fit of giggles. “No… No…” She waved her hand in the air, hardly able to speak or breath, “I… can’t….” She sat down in a chair opposite the bed. “I just….Oh, Christ no, Josef.” She inhaled, trying to regain some composure. Adela looked at Josef pointedly and spoke in a very calm yet firm manner, “It is her job, Josef. Let her do it. Besides,” A sly grin spread slowly over her lips, “You’re probably the sexiest person she’s given a sponge bath to all day!” She was again overcome with a silent fit of laughter. Adela was bent over in her chair, unable to stop. “Sorry… Oh, God. Whew.” She sat up, still smiling and wiped some of the tears from her eyes, “I’m sorry, but no. This is your just punishment for not seeing a doctor when I told you to. Now, no biting.”

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

Josefs eyes locked onto Adela as soon as she entered, as soon as her scent filled the room, he took in what he could. What caught his eyes was the white coat she adorned, 'Dr. Fitzroy.' His eyes narrowed slightly as his muscles tensed, was she trying to test him? When Adela started laughing Josef shook his head and looked away. His jaw clenched and the heart monitor began beeping at a slightly more rapid pace, an alert that his blood pressure was rising. Was it the laughter or the coat that irritated him more. He found no humor in either but still, what place was he to say anything. The nurse had temporarily stopped when Josefs thigh muscles tightened and would not budge. She could not get the back of them is he was this tense. When she made the comment about the sexiest, Josef had to agree. "Of course. Usually its old people who needs their butts wiped." He turned back towards her, his eyes screamed 'ADELA!' but still - he claimed her as his mate, she had yet to claim him. Her constant laughter finally broke through and forced the Syrian to chuckle as well. "Pain in my backside." He mumbled. She thought she was clever and in all reality, Adela was. Still he was irritated, more so at the coat he decided. The nurse had again stopped at the comment of no biting. Josef gave the nurse a look, "I wont bite." He couldn't tell if the nurse took it as a joke or a serious comment but she reluctantly continued on. "Kind of a cruel punishment, don't you think? Especially for something as trivial as when to see a doctor? Yeah I should have gone to one but I had my reasons..." He stopped himself short. Those reasons caused him to end up a bloody mess on her floor... still though... "...and I would do it all again!" He gave off his own laugh. The nurse was faster than Josef has thought. By the time he had finished, she had gotten both arms, his back, chest, and legs though she did not apply the lotion. The nurse left it on the side of the bed and walked out quietly. She was a grouch and Josef stuck his tongue out at her. Ok so it was immature but it was better than biting, wasn't it?

Before Josef could speak, the Doctor reentered the room, "You make an impression on people don't you?" Josef raised an eyebrow. "Do you growl at everyone? You growl at paramedics, nurses... do you growl at her?"

Josef gave Adela a smile, "Not out of the privacy of our bedroom."

A highly annoyed look crossed the doctors face and he cleared his throat indicating he was not amused by that explicit comment.

"Its not just growls you know."

"Anyways..." the doctor said, "I can release you today, however I have a few ground rules. The first being you will not be allowed to administer the medication I am giving you." He then completely ignored Josef and made his way to Adela handing her two slips, "This first one is a potent anti-biotic. He takes it four times a day. The second one is Tylenol-3 with codeine. He takes that three times a day, after each meal. He, under no circumstances is to be allowed to take his own pills. Give him what he needs then hide the bottles. Your... friend has proven he can't be trusted with simple over the counter drugs... I won't trust him with these." Slowly he came back to Josef. "Your abdomens going to hurt for awhile. Your liver did not sustain major injury but it had been overworking. Take it easy. No liquor, no sodas, just water or juices for the next couple of days. The infection also spread through your hand, up your arm and into your shoulder. The antibiotics should take it away in a week or so but its gonna hurt." He looked back at Adela. "Since I think he doesn't listen to anyone, I hope he'll listen to you." Josef did not realize he gave off a glazed over look of boredom as the doctor spoke which forced him to now only speak to Jager, "Replace the bandage nightly or when it gets dirty. He hast seven stitches in his hand. It would have been two but we had to cut a bigger section open to reach the infected flesh. When you look at it each night, ensure the stitches are secure. If his skin turns burgundy again, thats ok but if it goes darker than that get him back in here. Also since he's a guy I wouldn't expect him to listen to this next bit but if you two are physical with one another, careful with the hand."

The doctor turned towards Josef and began clicking off machines, before removing the I.V. "Do either of you have any questions?"

[tinkerbell]

"Not out of the privacy of our bedroom."

Oh, now. Adela was going to rip him a new wound for that. She stared at him, her face telling him how completely and utterly inappropriate that comment was.

"It's not just growls you know."

Adela put her head in her hands and shook her face. She was trying to conceal her smile. She was so angry she was laughing. That was a bad sign. Next thing she knew the doctor was speaking to her. She forced straight face and listened to everything he was telling her. Josef couldn't handle the drugs, but we already knew that. Adela would have to babysit him for the next week, but we already knew that also. Adela was going to have to be with him for the foreseeable future... But, somehow she already knew that one too. Dela certainly didn't mind. And maybe Adela didn't mind either so long as some rules were laid out. Like, Josef had to sleep in the guest room. Jo could not ear Barnie. Josef could not seduce her into making loud noises late at night. If Jo peed on the floor, Josef had to be the one to clean it up. Basic rules like that.

Adela took the bottles from the doctor and stuck them in her purse. She smiled at him graciously, "No. I think we've got it. Thank you doctor." The doctor smiled and exited, shutting the door behind him. Adela sat down on the bed and turned to Josef, resting her hand on his thigh. "I hope your sponge bath was nice! You'll have to learn how it's done so you can give me one the next time I'm a complete idiot. Oh, almost forgot," She reached into the pocked of the lab coat and pulled out a black credit card with Josef's name on this, "This is yours. And, we should leave as soon as possible unless you want to run up a bill on that. But if you ever need someone to use this for you, don't hesitate to ask me." Adela handed him back the card. She had a single debit card. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have that kind of money. She worked and the school gave her a small stipend. Plus, her grandmother was helping her out a bit but... Oh the shopping she would do if she had a card like that. Adela sighed and looked down at her hand. Josef had been sick. Really sick. What if she had gone straight to class or if he hadn't found her apartment? She might be dealing with a dead werewolf now... Adela squeezed his thigh gently and then began to rub it slowly with her thumb. She peered up at him through her eyelashes, trying to keep her sudden sadness from showing on her face or in her voice, "Are you alright? Really, Josef? Are you okay?"

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

He took the card from her and his eyes widened. He pleaded that this was not the card she had used to pay the medical bills with. It was one thing to outright go into his wallet but he had nothing to hide from her. She did what she had to do in order for him to get the medical care. But the black card? Josef had several credit cards and a couple of debit cards in his wallet. The various credit cards were well maintained, each paid off completely every month. The black card was from work and for work related expenses. If she had used it and if the bill had passed a thousand dollars then his bank would most certainly try and get in contact with him. This was not good. He gripped the card hard. Josef was not angry at Adela, he was mad at himself. He'd put himself into this situation and now because of it, that meant that a red flag might be thrown up and a federal regulator might be digging. They might try and find out the real reason he was in France and if he was not on a business trip then it meant his work card was untouchable. Calculations... he ran the numbers through his head. Could he do anything with his account? Contact someone immediately and let them know it was an accident? Was this a threat to his job? No but it would mean he would fall under investigation. He'd been through some and none are easy. Their a hassle and an outright pain. Setting the card down next to the bottle of lotion his mind was starting to drift and tears were swelling in his eyes. He was a child... a fucking child. Only a moron would get hurt, not seek medical advice and follow a woman across the sea. He regretted nothing but still felt foolish. Interesting combo, wasn't it.

"I hope your sponge bath was nice! You'll have to learn how it's done so you can give me one the next time I'm a complete idiot." He laughed when he realized he almost overstepped this comment. Work could wait for now.

"Enjoy it? Not by her hands." Josef replied. "You know who I would prefer bathing me." He placed his hand on top of hers and rested momentarily in the pillow behind his head. He fell silent when she asked him the next three questions in rapid succession. She wanted to know if he was alright, if he was ok. Was he? No, not really. He had not been right since she had left New York. Still he bit his tongue. "My hand hurts, I'm hungry and no one trusts me..." he started, "...and I want something I don't think I'll ever have." His eyes glistened over as he noticed hers had, both seemed to be fighting back the same thing... tears. Slowly he sat back up and swung his legs over the other side of the bed, "No... I don't think I'm alright..." he shook his hand in a joking fashion, "not until this baby heals." He sighed, a lame attempt at covering up his true depression. He wanted Adela. She didn't want him it seemed. Quietly he made his way to the bagged clothes and quietly de-robed, then redressed. He'd ask to wash his clothes at her place and ask for a proper bath. Again he'd ask... not demand. "Adela..." he paused as he finished sliding his feet into his shoes, "...I don't think I've said this to you..." he again paused as he adjusted his shirt and walked over to her. Gently he kneels before her as she had remained on the bed. Pushing a side bar, the bed lowered so that Adela remained sitting but came to his eye level. Careful of his hand he leaned in brining his mouth close to hers. Jo howled inside for a kiss, begged for another. "Thank you." 'Did she want him touching her?' probably not he again argued. Still so very close that their breaths pressed against the other, "I don't think I've said this to you as well..." their lips danced around the other but did not connect, "... I'm sorry for what I've put you through." he poked finger where her heart would be and gently tapped her temple, "here and here." He rubbed his nose against her own, an affectious sign he had grown accustomed to giving to her. His heart slammed into his chest, wanting more, so much more but a hospital was not a place for such actions - his body, his mannerisms screamed it but Adela seemed to not to. "I will win you over, Mon Cheri." Gently he stood back up while giving her forehead a peck with his lips.

Josef would respect her boundaries.

[tinkerbell]

She could read in his eyes that she had done something very very wrong by using the black credit card. Adela had just assumed that that card would have the highest limit and so it would certainly not be declined. Was he…? Was Josef about to cry over this? Adela was slightly taken aback by this. But she tactfully decided not to talk about it here. Maybe she would bring it up tomorrow after he’d had a good nights rest. The infection still needed taking care of. But she would bring it up. If this relationship was going to be permanent, and it was obvious that Josef wanted it to be, then it also needed to be transparent. Adela watched as he rose from the bed, her voice angry.

"My hand hurts, I'm hungry and no one trusts me...and I want something I don't think I'll ever have."

Adela sighed. She didn’t want him to feel that way. Hell, he already had Dela’s heart and that was half of hers. She’d only known him for like, five days. How much more could she give him in that time? Apparently, Josef had fallen in love with her at first sight. And it wasn’t that Adela thought she would never love Josef. She knew he was the kind of man she could spend the rest of the her life with. But she had already spent so much of her life rushing into things. For once, couldn’t they take it slow. Adela had been thinking hard as he was getting dressed, her eyes locked onto the linoleum floor. Now, she was just feeling down. So as Josef thanked her and apologized (she thought he had nothing to be sorry for) and flirted with her lips, Adela could only smile as she heard his heart begin to beat faster and faster. The kiss he left on her forehead tingled and she smiled. “You know,” She stood and took his good hand in her hand, interlocking their fingers, “If you don’t learned to control yourself someday, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Adela opened the door and began to lead him out, “And I’ll stop by the grocer on the way back and pick up some filets? And you can go home and shower and get in bed, alright?” She smiled up at him, “Just call me nurse Adela!”

They had caught a taxi just outside the hospital. Adela decided she would take the time in the car to give a little sight seeing tour. He’d been in the city for four days, but she doubted he’d taken the time to actually look at Paris. The Luxembourg Hotel, The Eiffel Tower, The Notre Dame Cathedral, and the Seine River. She pointed out everything she could as they traveled to his hotel to grab his things and let him check out. Adela lived in the 6th district of Paris, Saint Germain. It was a trendy district, just perfect for an artist like her. The taxi stopped just outside Da Rosa, her favorite grocery store. She dug through her purse and tossed fifty Euro at Josef for the taxi. “Eh, 5 Rue du Pré aux Clercs?” She confirmed with the cab driver who nodded. “Key, key” She ruffled through her purse and then tossed them at him. Adela looked Josef firmly in the eyes, “Shower. Rest. I’ll be back soon.” Without giving him a chance to argue, Adela slammed the door and trotted off into the grocer.

A short ten minutes later, Adela strolled out of the grocery store. She had originally wanted to prepare two steaks herself but she knew Josef was hungry. So she settled for the pre-marinated steaks that she could cook in about twenty. Especially if Josef liked his how she liked hers: Rare. Fresh vegetables and potatoes plus a loaf of fresh sourdough bread rounded out the meal. For whatever reason, she was excited. Maybe because she was cooking for someone? Or, was it that Josef was in her home…. Waiting for her. Either way, she almost ran the four blocks home. She sprinted up the stairs but slowed as she got to the door. She didn’t want to startle him. He was… uneasy in this injured state. She could sense it before. “Josef?” Adela opened the door slowly, “It’s Adela.” Duh. He could smell her.

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

She had actually taken the time to show him things, the various sights that Paris had to offer, well the ones that were along their main route. The Luxembourg Hotel, the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Seine River, not to mention the Eiffel Tower though in all honest, once they passed the Cathedral, Josef had spent most of the remainder using any spare moment of thought he had on faith itself. A born and raised Muslim, the Islamic faith did not spend much time comparing itself to other religions with the exception of Judaism since the issues of the Middle East had yet to be resolved. Syria, in particular, followed a stricter code of the Islamic faith. Was there a God? Josef did not know but when he asked himself if he was a Muslim, he could clearly say... no. His father could have him killed back in Syria for this. Most Islamic countries held a formal government that was recognized by the United Nations but most also had shadow governments that did things without the U.N.'s knowledge, two of the hot button issues was how people were executed for capitol crimes and womens rights. Womens rights... as Adela spoke about the Seine River, he listened to every word. In Syria, in his fathers home a woman did not speak unless her husband allowed it. The only time a woman was allowed to speak freely was in the presence of family only. In public or at others homes or even if the household had company over, the wife, sisters, and daughters held their tongues until they were spoken too. Everything he learned of culture had been flipped upside down when he assimilated in the United States. Women had freedoms in other parts of the world that he had not been accustomed to seeing. Was that his problem? Was he too much like his over bearing father? It would make sense. Josef could be trying to break from his shell, from the cocoon, from his fathers shadow. That had to be it. He had to stop thinking like his father. He had to stop thinking like an Arab. For years he treated women like puppets on a string cause thats what he was raised too do. Adela had seemingly broken that routine. She was the kink in his chain that caused him to stop and think. Josef did not want to treat Adela as his father treated his mother. It would mean taking a step back and realizing it was a two person controlled relationship... not one.

Adela had rushed off into the grocery store and whatever she told the cab driver, he understood completely. Most probably the exact address which was not far from the grocers. Abad recognized the area, three or four blocks tops. She had told him to shower and rest. He was not going to object. She had given him the approval to do the one thing he wanted. He dangled the key in his hand, staring at it's unique shape. When the driver pulled up to the iron gates, Josef paid him and quietly left. The sitting had been more relaxing than he thought cause as the Syrian climbed out, his body had stiffed and now stretching it, he ached. Josef wanted to sit again but knew he needed a shower. He made his way into the building, up the stairs (ever so slowly) and into the apartment. Setting the key on a kitchen counter, he immediately began to undress, folded his dirty clothes into a neat pile before setting them on her balcony. They smelled of blood, his musk, her musk, and lord knows what else. He would not sully the apartment. Making his way through, he did not flip on a single light, even in the bathroom, he only cracked the door slightly so allow some of the lighting in the rest of the apartment to slip in. The darkness felt good too, felt cool.

He did not know how long he had been standing in the water, the warmth pouring over his body. He had been careful to not get his injured hands bandage wet and actually held it above his head. HIs hands fiddled around, grabbing at various bottles. He didn't know what he washed his body with, something citrus which was either shampoo or body wash, either one could be used for both tasks. He scrubbed and he scrubbed hard. Almost ceremonial in a sense, Josef seemingly tried to scrub the entire outer layer of his flesh off, as if removing his fathers shadow from him. Abad was proud to be an Arab and an Arab would be what he was but he would not fall into the same trap the men of his family had for generations. Islam teaches equality but there was no equality in his fathers home. Hypocrisy was rampant in the Arabian states just like everywhere else. The difference now, was that Josef was breaking his chain. Adela was his equal, not his inferior. She did not have to take him to the hospital. She did not have to lay with him. She did not have to reveal personal details to him. She did it because it was Josef. He realized it now. She only did it cause if she truly did not trust him, why do all of that. Funny how much clearer a mind slowly got when they stepped outside the box. The shower just felt too good to leave but Josef did not know if she had to pay her own utilities so after what he thought had been fifteen minutes, he shut it off and grabbed the first towel he felt. He dried himself, wrapped it around his waist and stepped into the hallway.

He smelled her even before she spoke his name, "Josef? It's Adela." He smiled. In the hall, the brighter area allowed him to look over himself. His skin was a pinkish red, the water had been hot and mixed with the scrubbing had taken a number on his skin... though in a good way. He ran his good hand through his hair, slicking it back, checked himself over, ensuring the towel was completely wrapped and slowly made his way so Adela could see him in full view. "I'm sorry... I don't have anything else. I could find something if wearing just this makes you uncomfortable." He said looking at the towel. He understood if she was wary. Injured wolves were unpredictable and his attitude earlier had been in an extreme state, this Josef was completely different than the one whom had been on her kitchen floor a complete wreck. The shower did truly help. Though he was still so very tired, so very hungry and in pain, it all seemed to lessen. Was it psychosomatic? Was there more to his feeling slightly better? Probably. Was it the slow evolving line of thought he was developing, choosing to be his own Arab and not the one his father had set out for him? That had a large part too it. The one thing he did know... he would be telling Adela quite a lot tonight. "If you show me the cleaning supplies, I can clean up the kitchen." He eyed the bags she carried, "Or cook... please?" His tone was softer, more compliant.

[tinkerbell]

As she turned to looked down the hallway at him, Adela smiled. She tried not to get caught up in his strong chest and supple arms but… Too late. Her grin widened. “Uh….” Her mind was blank. And then her head began to swirl with a sudden flash of memories from their first night together. Her heart began to pick up its pace. No doubt Josef would be able to hear it. Control, Adela. She had to be the one with control right now. There were no excuses. “Yes, I have some clothes for you. Unless you want to walk around naked and cold.” She had turned towards the kitchen where she placed the bags on top of the counter. She reached into a cabinet next to the stove and pulled out a large skillet. She switched the burner on and placed the skillet on top. Standing on her toes, she reached up and grabbed a bottle of extra virgin olive oil and poured a few tablespoons into the pan. She replaced the cap on the olive oil and put it back in its place. “And No.” She started down the hallway towards him. He smelled like himself: perfect. She passed him into her room, dragging a light hand across his flat stomach as she did so. “You may not enter my kitchen. You may not cook or clean or launder clothes. You may, however,” She had pulled out an extra large white undershirt and large sweatpants, “Put these on. I don’t have any boxers. Sorry. I’ll wash yours first. You may also watch T.V. or read a book or whatever you’d like to do to relax.” She placed the clothes in his arms and the, on her toes, reached up to kiss his cheek. “And I mean it,” She growled softly as she walked away and into the kitchen. "Remember! I'm nurse Adela," She smiled back at him over her shoulder.

Adela set about like a busy bee on a mission. She threw the steaks into the skillet and poured olive oil over the vegetables and stuck them in the oven to roast. Scooping up Josef’s dirty clothes from the porch, the threw them in the wash. “I’m getting the rest of your dirty clothes,” She informed him as she grabbed his bag. “Hope that’s okay,” She whispered to herself. Is that what Josef had been upset about earlier? She had gone into his wallet? She hadn’t looked around, really. Just at his drivers license. It had giver her a lot of information about him that she didn’t already have. His birthday. That was an important one. July 7th. She’d remember it. She took his clothes out of the bag. His smell was intoxicating. She breathed it in on her way to the washer. Adela took one last sniff as she tossed them in. The steaks needed turning. She did so and then opened the oven to check on the veggies. Yum. Okay, time to change. She was still wearing her bloody white dress and the white lab coat. The dress she’d have to throw out. But she was keeping the lab coat. What to wear….. Damnit. She kicked her bedroom door closed behind her. Casual? Cute? Sexy? Ugh! She threw open her underwear and pulled out a black lacy number that she usually saved for special occasions. What this a special occasion? Maybe… It didn’t matter. She pulled off her dress and underwear and slipped into the black ones. She opened the next drawer. Hm… Designer jeans were always good. She pulled out a pair of tight, dark blue, straight-leg jeans. They hugged her hips tight enough to make her look like she had some curves. Top…. Top. “Hmmmm.” She thumbed through her large selection of clothes. Finally, she settled on a loose, deep red tank top. Adela hardly ever bothered with a bra. No need! She pulled the shirt over her head. Did she need make up? Maybe a little. She skipped into the bathroom and pulled out her drawer full of essentials. She applied a light coral colored blush, black mascara, and some basic chapstick. Adela sighed. Oh! Steaks were almost done.

She sprinted out of the room and into the kitchen. Adela unwrapped the loaf of bread and popped it into the oven to warm it. “Dinners almost ready. I hope you like your steak medium rare. I think I over cooked them a bit.” She turned her back to him to fuss over the steaks. “What do you want to drink? I‘ve got two bottles of Shiraz waiting to be drunk. One for each of us?”