This is the first part of a story I started working on awhile back. I was inspired to write this story by the Beatles song She Came in Through the Bathroom Window. The first line of the song goes, "She came in through the bathroom window, protected by a sliver spoon." I always thought those lyrics were interesting and wondered what she was protecting herself from with a weapon like that. This is where my imagination went.
Katie slid her slim body over the windowsill and landed with a quiet thud in the bathroom. She cringed at the slight noise; his hearing was acute.
Brandishing a silver spoon with the resolve of a Spartan warrior, she stood on the tiled floor and let her eyes adjust to the dark. Her weapon was an antique sugar spoon, intricate roses lacing up the handle, the scoop shaped more like a shovel than a spoon. The sterling silver caught the moonlight and reflected it off the polished surface. She had thought about stopping at her parents’ house and grabbing the silver knife they had used to cut the cake at their 25th wedding anniversary party, but she didn’t want to take the time or have to explain to them why she needed it. The spoon would do - it wasn’t much of a weapon, but she didn’t want to hurt him, just keep him at a distance.
She fingered the delicate chain around her neck. Also silver, she hoped the thin links would protect her jugular. She wasn’t sure how much of him was left inside, how much of his human mind was lurking about in that other body. Would he recognize her?
She also wasn’t sure what that other body would look like. Would it be a horrifying monster?
There was a scuffling noise beyond the darkened doorway followed by a low growl. He slunk into the bathroom, a musky smell rising off of his massive black shape. The full moon’s light penetrated the window and caught his eyes. She knew they were his.
“Pete, it’s me,” she said softly. The beast in front of her stopped in its tracks, the light from the full moon through the window allowing her to finally see him in this state.
There was no monster there, as she had feared. With a shiny black coat, thick fur, and powerful muscular body, he was not some human-animal hybrid with deformed features. He was a perfect wolf.
He was beautiful.
***
“Is this seat taken?” he asked in a smooth voice, low and quiet at the same time.
She looked up from the doodle she was sketching in her notebook and felt an electric shock as she caught his eyes. The right one was a warm, deep brown, like melted chocolate. The left eye was light blue, the color of glaciers. Fire and ice. A dual nature.
Caught off guard by the unusual beauty of his disparity, she mumbled, “No. It’s all yours.”
He was tall and athletic, his movements fluid and graceful as he slid into the seat next to her. He ran his hand through his short black hair and began to arrange his notebook and pen neatly on the desk, ready to take notes. He was a bit scruffy, his clothes were rumpled, and he was in need of a shave, but he was clean. His hands were scrubbed, the nails short and free of dirt. His teeth were polished to a gleaming white, the incisors perfectly straight, the canines just a hair too long and sharp.
He tapped his pen impatiently against the side of the desk until it burst, bathing his hand in blue ink.
“Oh, crap,” he muttered.
She pulled out a package of Kleenex and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said taking the tissues. “You’re a life saver.”
He wiped his hands but only seemed to spread the ink.
“By the way, I’m Pete. I’d shake your hand but . . .” He shrugged and gave her a charming grin.
She giggled and wanted to say more but was too lost in his eyes to think clearly.
After class, Pete asked, “What’s your name?”
“Katie,” she said and felt a blush creep up her pale freckled cheeks. How dumb she hadn’t introduced herself.
“Katie, do you like horror movies?”
“The scarier the better,” she managed to say.
“There’s a horror fest playing all week at the student center in honor of Halloween. Would you like to go with me Friday night?”
“I’d love to,” Katie agreed without hesitation.
After their date, Katie invited Pete up her dorm room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached his hand out to touch her face, brush her curly red hair from her eyes, and trace the curves of her cheek with his fingers. His hand moved to the back of her neck and wound through her hair. He leaned in and kissed her, gently letting his lips caress hers. Suddenly, he pulled back with a yelp of pain and jammed his fingers into his mouth.
“Are you okay?” she asked and took his hand to examine it. There were angry red lines burned across the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just an allergic reaction.” He pointed to the necklace. “Is that silver?”
“Yes, it is.” Her hand went to her throat and touched the tiny pendant hanging from the chain. “You’re allergic to silver?”
He nodded. “Yep. I know, weird. Go ahead, say it. I’ve heard all the werewolf jokes.”
She didn’t make a joke though, just removed the offending piece of jewelry and put it away in her night table drawer. She turned back to him and kissed him, picking up where they had left off.
Katie slid her slim body over the windowsill and landed with a quiet thud in the bathroom. She cringed at the slight noise; his hearing was acute.
Brandishing a silver spoon with the resolve of a Spartan warrior, she stood on the tiled floor and let her eyes adjust to the dark. Her weapon was an antique sugar spoon, intricate roses lacing up the handle, the scoop shaped more like a shovel than a spoon. The sterling silver caught the moonlight and reflected it off the polished surface. She had thought about stopping at her parents’ house and grabbing the silver knife they had used to cut the cake at their 25th wedding anniversary party, but she didn’t want to take the time or have to explain to them why she needed it. The spoon would do - it wasn’t much of a weapon, but she didn’t want to hurt him, just keep him at a distance.
She fingered the delicate chain around her neck. Also silver, she hoped the thin links would protect her jugular. She wasn’t sure how much of him was left inside, how much of his human mind was lurking about in that other body. Would he recognize her?
She also wasn’t sure what that other body would look like. Would it be a horrifying monster?
There was a scuffling noise beyond the darkened doorway followed by a low growl. He slunk into the bathroom, a musky smell rising off of his massive black shape. The full moon’s light penetrated the window and caught his eyes. She knew they were his.
“Pete, it’s me,” she said softly. The beast in front of her stopped in its tracks, the light from the full moon through the window allowing her to finally see him in this state.
There was no monster there, as she had feared. With a shiny black coat, thick fur, and powerful muscular body, he was not some human-animal hybrid with deformed features. He was a perfect wolf.
He was beautiful.
***
“Is this seat taken?” he asked in a smooth voice, low and quiet at the same time.
She looked up from the doodle she was sketching in her notebook and felt an electric shock as she caught his eyes. The right one was a warm, deep brown, like melted chocolate. The left eye was light blue, the color of glaciers. Fire and ice. A dual nature.
Caught off guard by the unusual beauty of his disparity, she mumbled, “No. It’s all yours.”
He was tall and athletic, his movements fluid and graceful as he slid into the seat next to her. He ran his hand through his short black hair and began to arrange his notebook and pen neatly on the desk, ready to take notes. He was a bit scruffy, his clothes were rumpled, and he was in need of a shave, but he was clean. His hands were scrubbed, the nails short and free of dirt. His teeth were polished to a gleaming white, the incisors perfectly straight, the canines just a hair too long and sharp.
He tapped his pen impatiently against the side of the desk until it burst, bathing his hand in blue ink.
“Oh, crap,” he muttered.
She pulled out a package of Kleenex and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said taking the tissues. “You’re a life saver.”
He wiped his hands but only seemed to spread the ink.
“By the way, I’m Pete. I’d shake your hand but . . .” He shrugged and gave her a charming grin.
She giggled and wanted to say more but was too lost in his eyes to think clearly.
After class, Pete asked, “What’s your name?”
“Katie,” she said and felt a blush creep up her pale freckled cheeks. How dumb she hadn’t introduced herself.
“Katie, do you like horror movies?”
“The scarier the better,” she managed to say.
“There’s a horror fest playing all week at the student center in honor of Halloween. Would you like to go with me Friday night?”
“I’d love to,” Katie agreed without hesitation.
After their date, Katie invited Pete up her dorm room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached his hand out to touch her face, brush her curly red hair from her eyes, and trace the curves of her cheek with his fingers. His hand moved to the back of her neck and wound through her hair. He leaned in and kissed her, gently letting his lips caress hers. Suddenly, he pulled back with a yelp of pain and jammed his fingers into his mouth.
“Are you okay?” she asked and took his hand to examine it. There were angry red lines burned across the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just an allergic reaction.” He pointed to the necklace. “Is that silver?”
“Yes, it is.” Her hand went to her throat and touched the tiny pendant hanging from the chain. “You’re allergic to silver?”
He nodded. “Yep. I know, weird. Go ahead, say it. I’ve heard all the werewolf jokes.”
She didn’t make a joke though, just removed the offending piece of jewelry and put it away in her night table drawer. She turned back to him and kissed him, picking up where they had left off.