Clean sheets covered the bed on the second floor of Third Circle – the ‘family’ lair. The room itself was through a hidden door – a room that Jesse had used quite often not too long ago. The whole floor had become his playspace, his willing prison. On one side, vines grew out of the overgrown greenhouse. In another hidden room were oodles of lockers for all Jesse’s spare crafting and ritual items. The middle of the space, thus far, had had no use except as a four-walled canvas. In his weeks of solitude, Jesse had covered every single wall with graffiti. Not just tags, but scenes of destruction and fire; of mythological creatures, a Norse world tree and the scales of a snake so large he could not fit it on the walls. It was a riot of colour out there – but in the room it was warm, and homely. There was a dresser to one side that Jesse had emptied, all of his belongings moved up into Clover’s apartment. In the corner, a small fire crackled. It wasn’t too big, but enough to make the space feel welcoming.
The bed was where he lay Snow; he hadn’t taken any liberties with her beyond taking off her shoes and doing his best to re-set one of the broken bones in her leg, so that it would heal properly. He had considered leaving a note beside her head with his phone number on it, telling her to let him know when she was awake. But, given that she had been following him to call him out as a monster, and he’d basically drained her and left her for dead, he had a feeling she’d more likely try to run.
She wouldn’t have got very far, but she probably would have blown herself to high heavens on the traps that lined the hallways leading up to the top floor, the welcoming atrium.
Instead, he sat on a wooden chair in the corner, his laptop open on his lap. He leaned back on the chair like a child in school, or a kid at a dinner table, his foot resting on wooden base of the bed as he swung himself back and forth. A frown of concentration furrowed his brow – it was that time of the week when the staff needed to be paid, the bills, the tax, the benefits. It all had to be figured out and done properly.
There he sat, trying to get his work done while he played nurse, waiting for his newest charge to wake.
The bed was where he lay Snow; he hadn’t taken any liberties with her beyond taking off her shoes and doing his best to re-set one of the broken bones in her leg, so that it would heal properly. He had considered leaving a note beside her head with his phone number on it, telling her to let him know when she was awake. But, given that she had been following him to call him out as a monster, and he’d basically drained her and left her for dead, he had a feeling she’d more likely try to run.
She wouldn’t have got very far, but she probably would have blown herself to high heavens on the traps that lined the hallways leading up to the top floor, the welcoming atrium.
Instead, he sat on a wooden chair in the corner, his laptop open on his lap. He leaned back on the chair like a child in school, or a kid at a dinner table, his foot resting on wooden base of the bed as he swung himself back and forth. A frown of concentration furrowed his brow – it was that time of the week when the staff needed to be paid, the bills, the tax, the benefits. It all had to be figured out and done properly.
There he sat, trying to get his work done while he played nurse, waiting for his newest charge to wake.
