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Dogs Chase Squirrels 13 - Do or Die
🕑 Added 2020-04-18 18:00:03 +0000 UTCForrester Library was busy tonight, much to Irene’s surprise.
The main foyer was small and quaint, with several portraits aligned on the wall, leading to a door a short distance away. Upon opening the door, the library opened up, extending around her in all directions, its open space adorned with bookshelves, filled to the brim with books old and new. In the center of the library on the first floor were two rows of tables placed end-to-end, extending off towards the back of the building. A series of study halls ran down the length of the back wall, separated by thin hallways. The domed ceiling above gave Irene a perfect view of the moon from her angle.
Nearly every table was occupied by at least a dozen college students, many of them feverishly studying their workbooks as they scribbled into their notebooks or typed on their laptops. More than a few were using tablets as well, scribbling down notes with styluses. Outside of the numerous taps and pencil striking paper and the clicking of keystrokes, the library was otherwise deathly quiet.
She didn’t have to work hard to find Camelia; she sat behind the checkout desk, working at an old computer, an ancient CRT monitor plugged into the aging beige desktop. She was wearing the same Lycra suit that she wore during their first afternoon together, albeit at a much smaller height. The librarian looked up from her screen with a smile, unaware of Irene’s approach.
“Welcome to Forrester! How may I...help…?” Camelia’s hazel eyes widened at the smiling squirrel, whose gaze quickly darted back to the screen, her expression blank. “I’m sorry, but I’m terribly busy.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Irene protested, leaning forward. “I know, I should have let you know I was coming --”
“As I said, I’m busy. We’re closing soon and there’s a lot I need to do. I can’t waste my time with idle chat.” Camelia’s responses were short and eerily too professional. “If there’s a book you’d like to check out, please be quick.”
Irene bit back a sigh. “I get it. You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“You’re not good at lying, you know. But you have every right to be mad at me.”
“I said I’m not mad, Irene. Excuse me.” Camelia stood up from the computer, reaching across from her to grab a small stack of heavy-looking books, navigating around the desk and past the squirrel towards a staircase leading to the second floor. Irene followed behind quickly, not wanting to let the conversation die.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, really --”
“Please keep your voice down,” Camelia whispered harshly. “This is a library, not a nightclub.”
“Heh. Okay. A nightclub. You are mad.”
“I’m not --” Camelia’s voice began to raise, catching herself as she noticed a few stares from a group of students, distracted from their own search for books on the upper floor. “This really isn’t a good time, Irene.” She adjusted her book stack; each book looked nearly as thick as her arm, yet she held them as if they were as light as a feather, more encumbered by how unwieldy they were over their weight.
Camelia was quick to turn on her heel the moment she reached the top of the stairs, walking between two narrowly-placed bookshelves, with barely enough room for herself, let alone the squirrel.
“Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for, Camelia. Please.”
Camelia sighed, placing the books down at her feet. She turned around with surprising ease, facing Irene. “You get three.”
“That’s fine.” Irene bit down on her lip with her incisors, trying to find the right words to say. “I was a total jerk to you. I pushed you into a lot of things you weren’t okay with, and for that, I apologize.”
“That’s not why I’m upset, Irene. Not anymore.”
“Then why are you giving me the cold shoulder?”
“Because I....I’m not the person you think I am. And I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on trying to prove otherwise.” Camelia’s arms crossed over her chest, a sullen look on her face.
“Yeah, I totally misread that one. But can you blame me? What would you have done if you found someone who was just like you? Admit it, if I was a bookworm, you’d be all over me.”
“It’s not that you’re wrong, Irene. I just…” Camelia’s voice hitched. Her voice was low, and hushed once she found the right words. “...I don’t like that side of myself.”
“Your predatory side?”
“I wish you wouldn’t say it like that, but...yes.” Camelia leaned her shoulder against the bookshelf. “I’ve always known I was different, even before I knew I could grow taller. I’m used to being ostracized, but never for that. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it. Daydreamed about it, even.”
Irene looked at the Labrador, perplexed. “Whoa, hold on. You’re making this sound like that’s a problem. There’s nothing wrong with being honest with yourself.”
“I know that. But there’s no denying that I can be incredibly dangerous on a whim. And the scary thing is, a part of me enjoys that.” The canine closed her eyes. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m a monster.”
“Geez. Ash was right, you’re really letting this get to you.”
“Ash?” Camelia tilted her head. “You know Ash? Wait, did she put you up to this?”
“No! She just told me you were in a bad headspace. I’d have pestered you no matter what.”
Camelia chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “That rabbit has a mouth on her. I’ll need to talk to her about keeping secrets.”
“Hey, if there’s anyone you need to be upset with here, it’s me, not her.” Irene placed her hands on her hips, brushing up against both bookcases in the process. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so bummed out? You don’t have to bottle that shit up! I’d have helped you out.”
The librarian looked up at the squirrel warily. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because I like you. A lot. And not just because you’re a giantess.” The look on Camelia’s face remained skeptical. “I mean it. You being a shifter is ten degrees of hot, but if all I wanted from you was sex, I’d have given up a long time ago. This is more than that. You get me. Or at least, I’d like to think you do.”
Camelia remained silent. Irene noticed her tail wagging ever so slightly, betraying the look on her face. She quickly turned around to grab the stack of books, placing each of them back where they belonged on their respective shelves, one at a time.
“Please. Say something.” Irene could feel her throat tightening, her eyes starting to sting. “Anything. Tell me to fuck off, for all I care! Just...talk to me, please.”
Camelia continued to work quietly, committed to her task. “I forgive you,” she said at last.
Irene’s ears perked up. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I know you mean well. But --”
Uh oh. Here it comes.
“-- I need time. Time to process all of this. To see if I really want a relationship right now. It’s not you, I promise.”
“I understand. Tell you what, I’ll make it easy for ya.” Irene reached into her back pocket, pulling out an old business card, creased at the corners from wear. “You have a pen?”
“I do.” The Labrador reached into a small pocket in her shorts, pulling out a small pen which she handed to Irene. She was quick to jot down her phone number and an address before she returned both to Camelia, who looked at the note, confused.
“My band’s not doing any performances this weekend since we’re still brainstorming over our CD, so I have plenty of free time. If you’re free Saturday night, stop on by. I won’t do anything creepy, I promise. Just a few bad movies and some pizza. I’d love it if you came over.”
“I’ll think about it,” Camelia replied mechanically.
“Sure. Ball’s in your court. You want to hang out, great, we’ll have a good time. If not --” Irene stopped herself. Her stomach began to twist. She didn’t want to continue that line of thought, but she knew she had to. “-- well, I’ve been chasing you for a while now, and I can’t help but think I’m being a pest. I’ll leave the door open for you on Saturday. No pressure if you don’t stop by. I’ll take the hint and leave you alone.”
There was an awkward silence in the air as Camelia looked at the note one last time before placing it in her pocket. “Thank you, Irene. Like I said, I’ll consider it.”
“Sure thing. I’ll...um, guess I’ll leave you to it.” Irene tried to muster another smile, nodding once as she navigated her way out of the tunnel of books, leaving Camelia alone to her task. Her eyes were still stinging by the time she made it to the door; everything got blurry once she reached her moped. Irene sniffled once, rubbing the side of her muzzle as she turned the key, revving up her motorbike to drive off into the night.
Bye, Camelia.
******************************
Irene let out a snort as she snapped awake, wiping a small trail of drool from her muzzle. She sat up, rubbing her head as she looked around her darkened living room. Aside from the light from the television screen, much of her apartment was pitch black. A half-eaten pepperoni and mushroom pizza sat in a cardboard box on her coffee table, an empty bottle of Fat Tire next to it. She checked her phone groggily -- it was nearly midnight, minutes away from Sunday. And she was all alone.
Figures. Good thing I didn’t get my hopes up.
Irene felt lightheaded as she sat up, wearing nothing but a long pink nightshirt that stretched down past her waist. She never considered herself a lightweight, but her one beer was enough to make her head spin. Her body slumped back against her futon, her eyes beginning to sting as her senses slowly returned to her.
Come on, Irene. You knew this was going to happen. She’s been ducking you for weeks now. Think about it. She’s obviously a busy woman, running an entire gigantic library all by herself.
Irene could feel the edges of her eyes dampening. She closed them again, a tear rolling down her face. She sniffled again, wetly.
Who am I kidding? I scared her shitless. I thought she was a dangerous woman on the prowl for some company. Boy, did I fuck that up royally. She’s just a cute, timid little dog, deep down. And I thought I actually had a chance with her. I’m so stupid.
Irene bit back a short sob, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.
No. I’m not going to cry over this. I promised myself I wouldn’t after getting away from Dad. I’ve shed enough tears dealing with his bullshit. I’m not going to let this get me down.
With a deep, shaky breath, Irene reached over for the television remote with an unsteady hand, nearly knocking over her beer bottle in process. She hit the Play button on the remote, allowing the movie to replay. She had a small stack of them sitting on the corner of the coffee table, every title varying degrees of terrible to a hilarious degree. She didn’t feel like laughing right now, but any kind of distraction was better than being left alone with her thoughts. Her eyes glanced back at the bottle, pondering if she should grab a second -- and a third, while she was at it. She ultimately thought better of it; the last thing she needed was to develop another bad habit. She learned that lesson from her father, too. The hard way.
This sucks. I really thought we had something going. This hurts. This...really hurts.
Irene was finding it hard to focus on the movie as her alertness began to wane again. Her head dipped forward as she started to doze off, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. A sharp knock woke her up as she looked at the television screen, greeted by a scene where a wolf was tapping his hand against his neighbor’s door to get his attention. Grumbling quietly to herself, Irene turned down the sound completely, closing her eyes. A second knock snapped her to full attention.
“Wait. No way,” she whispered to herself as she shot up from the futon, rushing towards her apartment door. She kept her apartment nice and tidy under most circumstances; despite the dim lighting, it was easy for her to get around the rest of her furniture and toward the door, which she opened with an unsteady hand.
The Labrador on the other side waved shyly, bundled up in a warm white coat. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“Camelia!” Irene said, half-shouting her reply. Her tail rose in excitement, her facial expression a mixture of elation and disbelief. “No, not at all! I’m totally awake. Couldn’t sleep a wink.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” Camelia said apologetically.
“Enh, don’t worry about it. It’s almost midnight, though! You sure picked a hell of a time to stop by.”
“I had to take care of a few matters at work. That and...well, I gave a lot of thought about what we talked about, and I felt you deserved an answer,” Camelia said, gently pulling at a purple scarf wrapped around her neck. “I realized I was wrong.”
“Wrong? Wrong about what?”
“What I truly wanted. I’ve spent too long debating what was best for me. I didn’t want to allow myself to get distracted by things outside of my control; that those distractions weren’t worth chasing if they would only weigh me down.” Camelia blushed underneath her golden fur.
“And?”
“And I decided I could really use a distraction right now.” The Labrador smiled sweetly. “Plus, chasing you for a change sounds like a lot of fun.”
Irene’s heart fluttered, unable to contain the smile spreading across her muzzle. She leaned against her door frame nonchalantly, arms folded over one another in an attempt to mask her elation. “No joke? Well, I’m flattered, but...what changed your mind? You didn’t seem all that interested.”
“That was a lie. I was always interested.” At that, the Labrador took a step forward. “I like you very much, Irene, but I’m also really scared about making a commitment.” Camelia’s face turned an even brighter shade of red, her tail wagging slowly. “I want to give this a chance. I’m just scared of what will happen if this doesn’t work.”
“Well, hey, we get the fun of finding out together, don’t we?” Irene took a step outside, placing her hands on Camelia’s shoulders. The cold was already biting at her bare legs and exposed arms, but she didn’t care. “There’s nothing wrong with taking chances once in a while.”
“True. I think we’ve both used a lot of our chances up, though.”
Irene nodded. “Naturally. We definitely got off on the wrong foot. Want to start over?”
“I’d like that.” Camelia leaned up on her toes, giving the tip of Irene’s muzzle a small peck. In that instant, every inch of Irene’s body felt incredibly warm, a tingling sensation spreading down her chest, all the way to her arms and legs. It was truly magical, and she didn’t care if those feelings and sensations made no logical sense; she was completely caught in the canine’s spell. She could feel Camelia starting to tremble as the frigid air started getting to her.
“Oh, shit, I should have asked if you wanted to come inside! Damn it, I’m already off to a great start.” The squirrel started to laugh, inviting Camelia to join in, which she did with glee. “Come in, come in!”
“Thank you.” Camelia stepped inside as Irene fumbled for the light switch. Camelia looked around, noticing a small dining table with a variety of musical scores scattered across its surface. In one corner, an expensive-looking keyboard sat on a stand, with a simple stool set behind it, just opposite the dining table. The living space extended further back towards a futon covered in a purple sheet, facing a large television atop a small wooden cabinet which Irene used as a makeshift stand. The entire place was simple, but oddly elegant in its own way on top of being surprisingly well-organized -- scattered music sheets aside. The faint smell of pizza still lingered in the air as Camelia removed her jacket and scarf, setting both atop one of the dining room chair’s back post.
“Sorry the place is such a mess,” Irene blurted out, rubbing the back of her head self-consciously. “I sorta wasn’t expecting the company.”
“That’s my fault. I’m sorry I waited so long to stop by.” Camelia straightened the wrinkles out of her skirt, which hung just above her ankles, its dark purple hue a stark contrast to her white blouse.
“Heh, we should probably stop apologizing to each other so much.” Irene walked past the canine towards the kitchen. “There’s still pizza if you’d like some. It’s a little cold, but I can heat it up if you want.”
“That’s alright, but thank you. Although I wouldn’t mind something a little sweet to snack on.”
“Sweet, huh?” Irene opened up her pantry, eyebrows raised as she reached inside, pulling out a sizable bag. She hesitated to reveal its contents -- the last thing she wanted to do was push her luck and give Camelia the wrong idea. “Hmm, I may have something here, but don’t read too much into it.”
Camelia canted her head, her blonde locks splayed over her shoulders. “Erm, I won’t.”
“Alright. I’m taking you at your word, here.” With that, Irene placed the bag on her counter -- a bag filled with assorted gummy bears. “I always like to chew on these whenever I have a sweet tooth. And it kind of satisfies the whole...y’know, apex predator thing.” Almost instantly, Irene regretted her words, afraid that she’d have the canine running for the hills. “But if you’d rather have something else --”
Camelia stopped Irene by placing her hand on top of the squirrel’s, filling it with that unusual electric spark. The smile she wore was inviting, with more than a hint of playfulness. “Who hasn’t had a little fun playing pretend with a few gummy bears? Just don’t go admitting that to an actual bear.”
Irene’s jaw dropped at Camelia’s reply. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Damn, you are an enigma, you know that?”
The canine replied with a playful wink, pulling the bag toward her. “Well, you know what they say. Mysteries are worth exploring. And as long as you behave, I’m more than willing to let you explore.”
“Heh. I’m at your command,” Irene mused, as Camelia tore the bag of sweets open.
