Chapter five

POV: Kehan

I followed Adams into the kitchen after putting on the clothes he gave me. I had seen him do that many times before so it was easy. The quiet familiarity of the space somehow comforting. I was still so new to this human life, this body but the kitchen, the rhythm of cooking, seemed to settle something inside me. It felt right, even if I wasn’t entirely sure why.

 

Adams gave me a once over, nodded his agreement with the fit, then moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, his back to me as he opened cabinets and pulled out ingredients. I hovered just behind him, unsure of what to do, but feeling an urge to contribute. I scanned the kitchen, the jars, the bags of groceries - and his senses sharpened. He could smell everything—the earthy scent of potatoes, the sweet tang of onions.

 

The urge was there again, like something pulling me forward. I stepped closer, bare feet padding softly against the cold tile. I reached up to one of the high shelves,  fingers brushing against a bottle of olive oil. His eyes flicked to Adams, who was busy chopping vegetables.

 

Without a word, I pulled the bottle from the shelf and held it out toward Adams, his eyes meeting  mine in silent communication

 

Adams paused, looking at the bottle, then at me. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You want me to use this?”

Nod.

I wanted to show Adams that I understood more than he thought I did. I knew what the ingredients were for - recognized them, even if I didn’t yet have the words for them. He knew the smell of garlic meant it would be strong and sharp, that onions brought a sweetness, and that the olive oil would add richness.

 

Adams, clearly amused by the quiet communication, took the bottle with a grin. “Alright, I see you’re not useless,” he teased, and the words felt easy, light. For a moment, it almost felt like we were already in sync.

 

I watched, mesmerized by the way Adams moved, his hands deftly slicing, dicing, and stirring. It felt normal like this was something that had always been meant to happen, even if I still didn’t fully understand who he was or how I  had ended up here. But the quiet, steady rhythm of the kitchen, the warmth of the room, and Adams’ presence… it was comforting. It felt like a kind of haven.

 

After a while, Adams turned to him. “Can you hand me the salt?” He gestured toward the small bowl sitting near the counter.

 

I looked at the bowl, then back at Adams. I walked over to it slowly, fingers brushing the smooth edges of the ceramic bowl before I picked it up. I didn’t look at Adams as I handed it to him, but his hand lingered on the bowl for a minute.

 

Adams smiled warmly, his fingers brushing against mine as he took the bowl. “Thanks,” he said, and the simple word, spoken with such softness, settled something inside. It wasn’t just the gesture, it was the understanding. The connection.

 

We worked together in silence for a while longer, with me passing ingredients and Adams cooking, the air between us light and easy. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this peaceful, this okay.

 

Adams set the table, well, the kitchen thing where people eat. I sat down on the chair beside him. The food smelled incredible. I had no words for the gratitude I felt, but when Adams placed a plate in front of me, my gaze just softened. No more canned dog food, I sighed

 

Adams gave a small, knowing smile. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

 

The food tasted rich, warm, and satisfying - like it had been made just for me. I like to think it was. My mind felt clearer,  my stomach full, but there was still a gnawing feeling inside me, a curiosity about who I was before the shelter and Adams, where I’d come from.

 

As they ate in silence, Kehan felt it again—the flicker of something more. A memory.

 

Ke...

 

It slipped away, but it was there again, just out of reach. A fragment.

 

**

POV: Adams

 

“You’re not going to kill me in my sleep, are you?” I had blurted without thinking and he smiled. The gall on him! “Well, that’s comforting to know”.

I called Dr. J as I sat behind my desk.

Alex decided to do the dishes, giving me enough space to process this morning’s events. God knew how he learned things when he couldn’t speak.

“Hallucinations?” she asked. “Night terrors?”

 

“No. It was real. Jess, he changed. One second he was a dog, the next…”

 

“You’ve been under a lot of stress. Your brain is trying to process fear and comfort at the same time.”

 

I hung up. She meant well. But she wasn’t there. She didn’t see the way Alex stared at me. Not with confusion. But knowing. Well, maybe a little confusion.

 

The rest of the day, I watched him closely. Even though he followed me everywhere, just as if he were still... In the kitchen when I cooked, he’d pass me things even before I asked for some. At least, he seemed to understand even though he wasn’t speaking.  When I slipped and cursed, he’d growl and glare. When I cut my finger chopping onions, he licked the blood like he understood the pain. Like he wanted to share it.

 

I could barely work. While I’d tried to handle it earlier calmly, I had plenty of free time to freak out. Trying to convince myself it wasn’t real didn’t work.

Maybe I was really having a psychotic break.

But who the hell has night terrors in the morning, wide awake? Dr J didn’t always make sense all the time, anyway.

I later called my best friend, Jessica. Though Jessica Newington is always a headache any time of the day, for once she was more helpful than my therapist. She gave me instructions, things to do and not do. Made sense of the confusion.

 

 

At night… he changed again. Back to weird Alex that I find weirder calling a dog. Then, into a man by dawn’s light.

 

I reached for a blanket, my heart pounding. Covered him gently. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. Just watched me with those same gold eyes.

 

**

The next morning, he was Alex the dog again.

 

I stopped asking questions. I started accepting that something supernatural had entered my life. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t mind.

 

I began grooming him regularly. Feeding him better, not like I didn’t before, just more of a human diet than a doggie diet, considering... Buying soft blankets and chew toys that he ignored. He was always near, always watching. He never barked. Never growled. Just existed with me.

 

We were two broken things pretending otherwise.

 

And some part of me… was healing.

 

But I should’ve known something like that never lasts long.

Instead, I got too comfortable with his presence in either form. I got used to the routine of him handing me things both in the kitchen or at my workspace, and bringing me coffee occasionally.

 

A quiet intimacy, if you may.

 

But something was different today, especially after he shifted back to man Alex midday. There wasn’t that controlled urge to mate he’d shown when we brushed across each other, even more pronounced in dog form. Perhaps he finally got it under control or mating season passed.

 

He didn’t try to see or understand what I was working on. He just sat watching TV, that should probably be the fourth time the appliance got any use. And even when night came, he didn’t linger in my room or bed in either form, like he used to.

Like a prediction, he was gone by the first light of dawn that streamed in...