âSo, what do you do for fun around here?â I ask, trying to lighten the mood. Itâs been a long day, and the atmosphere has gotten a bit heavy for me. I should be exhausted and ready for bed, but Iâm not.
Axel studies me for a minute, before he smirks and stands up. He walks over to the wood armoire in the corner and opens the doors at the top, and there sits a TV. Itâs older, but it still looks out of place in the cabin.
Then, he opens the drawers at the bottom, and there are rows and rows of DVDs.
âI watch DVDs, while I work,â he says.
I stand and check out his DVD collection. Lots of action movies, mountain men, historic documentaries, and comedy mixed in with the classics. He has many complete TV shows as well.
âWhat do you work on?â I ask, turning back to him.
âNormally, stuff I can sell in town. Thereâs a shop that sells my things on consignment. Once a month or so, I go to town, drop things off, and then meet up with a few friends to make a day of it. After this storm passes, weâll be planning a day to get together.â
âPlanning? Like on the phone?â
âNo, Little One. Thereâs no service out here. I use the radio.â He nods to the corner where his desk is.
âWhat about in an emergency?â I wonder what would happen to him all alone up here.
I know thatâs the price you pay living here, but the thought of him needing help and not getting it doesnât sit right with me either.
âIâve learned how to handle things myself, but if I needed to, I could radio to my friend Phoenix, and he has phone service, Wi-Fi, and other stuff.â
Such a different way of life up here, a much simpler one. One that recently holds a lot of appeal. I love being unplugged and not bothered by my phone.
Would Chris be blowing it up, demanding I get my stuff out of the apartment? Does he even realize Iâm missing? Would Chrisâs dad start calling in a few days, when I miss work? The thought of not having to worry about those calls tempts me much more than I thought it would.
âWhat do you sell at the shop?â
He gently takes my hand in his and stares at it for a moment, before leading me to a large cabinet by the kitchen.
âJerky. Mostly, deer jerky and some others, depending on what I can hunt. Also, I sell the furs in town, as thereâs always a market for them.â He opens the cabinet to show me bags and bags of jerky all unlabeled.
âDo you label them?â
âNo, I mark the type and date I made them, and the guy at the shop labels them. He uses his own brand. Itâs easier than me trying to handle the printing and all that.â He closes the door, and still holding my hand, leads me to a cabinet by his desk.
âI also make hand carved knives. These are what I normally work on at night, while I watch TV.â
I pull one from the cabinet, and the handle is a wood carving of a bear in the forest with some trees and a river.
âAxel, these are beautiful! They must take so much time to make.â
âI can make maybe three or four a month, and then more in the winter when Iâm snowed in. They sell for a pretty nice price in town.â
This giant of a man made these delicate knives with the beautiful intricate carvings. For sure, the time and details that it takes to make these, prove heâs patient. Just like Iâve known he is in the few hours Iâve spent with him.
âWould you like to watch TV?â He asks, leading me back to the couch.
âYes, I would, something funny.â I sit on the couch and watch him hunt for the DVD he has in mind. He gets the TV going, and then sits on the opposite end.
I watch him, as the opening credits of the movie start up, and when he catches me watching him, he gets slightly nervous.
âWhat is it?â He asks in that deep, gravelly tone Iâve come to know.
âWhy do you live out here alone?â I go for broke.
More than likely, he wonât tell me, but I figure I have to ask. I have this need to know all about him, even if I canât explain exactly why.
He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the subject, but he doesnât look like heâs going to shut me down. He looks thoughtful like heâs choosing his words carefully.
âWith my size, itâs just easier.â He finally says, but he wonât look at me when he does.
âEasier for whom?â I ask.
Thatâs when he finally looks at me. His expression says it all. Itâs easier for the outside world if he hides away. I can only imagine what he has gone through, before moving out here, but I wonât pry tonight.
Thatâs when I decide how I can repay his kindness. I can show him that what others think doesnât matter.
âPeople are cruel to what they donât understand, or what scares them. Thatâs their problem.â I say softly and watch his Adamâs apple bob, as he tries to hide the emotion.
I scoot over to his side and bring the blanket on the back of the couch with me. Snuggling up to his side, I want to see if he pushes me away. His body tensed, but he doesnât move.
âSorry, you are nice and warm,â I tell him.
Itâs the truth. Between the heat from the fireplace and being near him, the day is finally catching up with me, and Iâm having a hard time keeping my eyes open.
Iâm really glad I met you, My Giant. I think, as I drift off to sleep.
Iâm really glad I met you, my giant.
Those are the words she mumbled, as she drifted off to sleep. I shift and move my arm, so sheâs lying against my side, and I wrap my arm around her, holding her close.
I enjoy having her snuggled up to me, and I love that sheâs so comfortable that she drifted off so fast, and we didnât even get ten minutes into the movie.
This is much earlier than I normally go to sleep, so I settle in to watch one of my favorite movies, but I canât seem to concentrate on anything, other than Emelie nestled into me.
I know I should take her to bed, and then finish the movie, but I want this time with her cuddled against me, because who knows when Iâll get it again.
Sheâs so tiny in my arms, and the differences between us are noticeable. Her skin is soft, smooth, and pale next to my tan and rough skin from all the manual labor I do out here.
Her skin is almost blemish free, other than the cuts from earlier today. Though, I hate them marring her skin. My skin is full of scars and bruises. I never cared much before, but now, I wonder if an angel like this could stand to be around a beast like me.
I lean my head on the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling, a ceiling built by myself with the help of my friend, Phoenix. Heck, I built the whole cabin. Some days, I still canât believe I did it.
How have I gone from craving my time alone to wanting her to fill every corner of my cabin? In just a few hours, she has turned my life upside down, and I donât think I could ever go back.
When I look into the days to come, I see her here, helping prep for winter. I can picture her snuggled on this couch, reading next to the fire when we are snowed in, or coming home from a long day to find her cooking dinner in the kitchen. Or I can imagine a time where we sit down and eat dinner together every night.
When I look up at the TV again, the movie is over, and my Little One is still asleep. I gently pick her up to carry her to bed. Then, she snuggles into me, and my heart races, yelling at me that sheâs mine, sheâs comfortable with me, and this could work.
In the hallway, I waver. I had every intention of putting her in one of the guest rooms, letting her have her own bed, her own space, and her own bathroom. But now, the thought of her sleeping across the hallway doesnât sit right with me.
Hesitating a moment, I turn into my room and lay her down on my bed. I pull the covers over her and lightly brush some hair out of her face. Sheâs so beautiful.
Then, I drag myself away to go check on the house. Going around, I check the locks on the doors, the fire in the fireplace, and make sure all the windows are secure with this storm coming through tonight. Anything out of place, I put away. I fold up the blanket Emelie was using on the couch, switch the clothes into the drier, and then head to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
When I get to my room, I donât even turn the light on, because I donât want to chance waking her and find myself moving through my bedtime routine much faster than normal, because I want to get back to her.
Once done and standing back by the bed, I hesitate again. Normally, I sleep in my boxer briefs, but with my Little One in bed with me her first night here, I donât want to scare her. Itâs probably best if I sleep in my sweatpants as uncomfortable as they might be.
As I carefully climb into bed, itâs like she can sense me near, as she curls up to my side in her sleep. Lifting my arm, she moves her head to my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her back.
Sheâs only doing this to stay warm. I tell myself. Thatâs the whole reason I brought her to my bed, so she can stay warm. She isnât used to living in a cabin out here in a strange place. If she woke up alone and cold in the middle of the night, I didnât want her to get scared.
Gently rubbing her back, I try to relax. Then, I rerun the day over in my head, beginning with her finding me in the river. When I had my first glimpse of her, something about her called to me. There was no hesitation or question that Iâd bring her back to the cabin. Though, I never expected to be here tonight. Like this.
The more time I spend with her, the more time I crave. I love having her in my space, her scent in my room, and her in my arms.
Thereâs enough light filling the room for me to see the clock on my nightstand, and Iâve been lying in bed with her for three hours now, and Iâm still wide awake. I canât get enough of watching her sleep, and of making sure sheâs okay.
When the thunder booms from outside, her body tenses in her sleep. I pull her closer to me, and she starts to relax, but then she moves again, and her head turns up to look at me.
Our eyes meet and neither of us moves, as something passes between us. An understanding that Iâll keep her safe. I hope she feels this too because the longer she looks at me, the deeper sheâs digging herself into my heart.
Finally, she breaks the spell and snuggles back into me, mumbling about how safe she feels.
Only once sheâs back asleep, am I able to fall asleep myself. If only I had an idea of how Iâd be woken up that next morning, I may not have fallen asleep at all.