Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In a village between meadows and forests, life was slow and simple.

The people here had everything they needed, be it far from everything they could have if they lived in a city or town, but they were content.

You had traveled to nearby towns and even a greater city once, worked there for a bit to earn money, and had seen enough to know what your village missed and what you wanted to be: a doctor.

You had tried to acquire and read as many books about medicine and human anatomy as you possibly could, with most of them being too expensive to buy for yourself. You had even assisted a doctor for a while, trying to soak in as much knowledge as you possibly could. He had been a kind man to take you in and teach you, he had even praised your intellect. When you had asked him, if you could become a doctor someday, he smiled and gave you an affectionate, yet pitying look.

You didn’t understand it back then, but you'd understand sooner than you'd thought. 

It was one of these slow and simple days in your village. That you had studied to practise medicine had become known around the village, so people would come to you for support.

“Take these herbs and brew yourself tea from them, two to three times a day. In addition you can inhale steam once a day to help clear your airways. Just boil water for this, put it in a bowl or a pot, add 1 teaspoon of salt if you can, then bow your head over the bowl and just breathe for 10-15 minutes, preferably through your nose, though”, you said as you handed over a bag of herbs you'd just prepared. 

“Oh thank you so much, Miss”, the elderly lady in your chair replied with a raspy voice, “Hopefully I can get rid of that cold soon now!”

You helped her get up and supported her on her way out.

“And remember, if anything else should be the matter, come by anytime”, you said, handing her her wooden walking cane.

“I will, young Doctor, I will”, the elderly lady replied, waving you goodbye.

You watched her walk away slowly. Her words rang through your ear. Being called ‘Doctor’ felt new and somewhat undeserved, and yet it filled you with pride. You felt honored that especially one of the elders would recognize you as such.

Over the months, you have treated many people. For small things, mostly - however, it seemed to be effective. You were uplifted by the grateful faces of your patients, wandering about with a quiet smile on your face. Unfortunately, it left you oblivious to the storm that was brewing.

—-----

The Creature had wandered day and night, through forests and meadows. Aimlessly, seeking something that he didn’t quite know what it would be. After a long while, he came across a village. It was fairly small, yet lively, in the midst of a large forest clearing. He found shelter in an abandoned shack somewhere close to the outer rim and secretly watched the people during the day. One house he could watch particularly well. There was a young woman living inside. In the evenings, she was always alone, aside from a small cat keeping her company. During the day, however, many different people would come to her. She would speak kind words, care for them, sometimes give them little things to take home. Whenever the people left after their short visit, they had smiles on their faces. He could hear the words ‘thank you’ and ‘take care’, and the people would call her ‘Doctor’ sometimes. He learned that people would come to her for help, and she would help them feel better. He learned about the softness and kindness in her smile and words, the precision and care she would put into her every move. The Creature understood that she worked with herbs. He would see her go out to collect them sometimes. Unfortunately, when he tried to collect some of them for her, he had no idea which plants it was that she needed. In defeat, he ended up collecting firewood and some wildflowers instead, and placed them in front of her door in the dead of night.

In the mornings, he watched excitedly, waiting for her to see his offerings. And her warm smile, her gentle hands holding the flowers, her breathy laugh - all those were more of a reward than he'd ever hoped for.

With time passing however, he'd hear very different voices emerging. There were men speaking in hushed voices. They were meeting in secret and plotting. He did not fully understand what they were so angry about, but they'd glance over at the young woman's house and watch her with great distrust. Something must have angered them. The Creature heard the word ‘witch’ fall from their lips every now and then. They spoke it as if it was a curse, better uttered in a low voice, but pronounced with such disgust, it sent a shiver down his spine.

He was unsure of what it all meant. But a strange feeling unfolded in his stomach.

Things kept going on like this for a while. The Creature kept bringing the young woman small gifts. Maybe, he thought, one day he could come and knock on her door to introduce himself as regular people do. Maybe she would be kind to him, like she was kind to all the people that sought her out for help. When the evening came and her house was lit by candles and the fire in the hearth, he would sit leaned against the wall of his shack, peeking through holes and cracks in the wood, silently dreaming about his time to finally come.

—---

A lot of months had passed since you’d returned from your travels. It seemed as if the people of your village not only accepted you as a doctor, but also were very grateful for your help. Watching them feel better, recover from their illnesses and sincerely smile at you in deep gratitude was nearly thanks enough. You’d even accompanied, assisted and supervised a few births, having the utmost honor of helping to bring new life into this world. Most of the time, you asked for no to very little pay, but always preferred donations of any kind. You didn’t want to demand your people’s money like that, it felt wrong, since your intention had always been to help and support them. You’d rather have them give you what they can give, if they wanted to. So, just like the butcher's family had brought you ham as a gift, the farmers had brought you a kitten, since their barn cat had recently had a litter of 4. And some of the villagers, you’d found, preferred to express their gratitude anonymously in silence, as you’d find gifts in front of your door in some mornings. Although they made you wonder, as they somehow felt… different. There was an air of innocence about them, yet so much care was put into them, that it made you question whether they’d truly come from one of your patients. But in the end, it didn’t really matter. You accepted them with gratitude like any other gift.

One evening, however, everything changed. You had already sent away your last patient of the day and finished tidying up. The sun had already set and you were ready to end the day and hop into bed. At this point, it must have already been in the dead of night, when a loud knock thundered against your front door. It startled you, since the sheer brutality of the knock felt unreasonable, especially at this time of night. Even your kitten was startled awake, now crouching down underneath your table, ears flicked back.

You hurried to answer the door. From the corner of your eye, you saw light flickering through your windows, as if there were several lanterns or torches outside your house. Perhaps there’s an emergency, you thought.

When you opened the door, you saw in the dim firelight lots of faces staring at you grimly. All of them were men.

“Yes? What’s the matter? Did something happen?”, you asked, “Does someone need medical attention?”

There was a long, eerie moment of silence. You could feel the hatred and disgust in their gazes, piercing through you like daggers dipped in poison. Then, finally, one of them spoke up.

“Silence, wretched woman! We have come to put an end to this blasphemy.”

“Wha-... What do you mean?”, you stuttered in utter confusion.

“We will put an end to your practice of witchcraft. We know what you are. You’re bringing the devil upon us! You’ll send this village to hell and ruin! We have come to claim you, Witch!”, the leader spat, angrily raising his torch.

The group of men joined in, rattling and raising their pitchforks, knives and guns, yelling and chanting hatefueled nonsense.

“Witch? I beg your pardon, Sir - you can’t be serious. There is no such thing as witchcraft here, it’s science. If anything, I am a doctor!”, you replied in defense.

“Quiet! We will hear no more of this! Save your deceitful words for the devil. You shall meet your master soon”, he growled and grabbed you by the arm before you could respond. The kitten underneath your table hissed and growled loudly. You were dragged outside in your nightgown, pulled away from your house by the angry group of men. You opened your mouth to scream for help but you were quickly shut up by a sack being draped over your head and your mouth being held shut by a large hand. You struggled and struggled, trying to break free, your mumbled whines growing more panicked by the minute. Just then you felt a blunt impact on your head and everything went dark.

—--

The Creature had, just like every night, quietly watched over your little house. He had already made up his mind which gifts he’d collect for you this time. He wanted to get a lot of wildflowers and gather them in a bulk - a ‘bouquet’ it was called, if he recalled correctly, and planned on giving it to you in person. In a quiet moment, late in the evening, he’d muster up his courage and knock on your door. However, as he soon learned, this moment was to be ripped away from him.

Flickering lights caught his eye, as he watched a large group of men gather in front of the young woman’s house. He had already exited the shack to start collecting flowers, so he quickly hid behind a row of trees, still closely watching them. He heard their hushed voices murmuring, thick with rage, ready to burst into shouting at any moment. They knocked at her door with such force that it even startled the Creature. He felt uneasy. Their intentions felt harmful. The air was tense.

The young woman opened the door in her nightgown, seemingly confused. From then on, everything happened quickly. They called her a witch, accused her of bringing evil upon the village, grabbed her by the arm and forcefully dragged her away. The Creature’s fingers twitched, his face distorted in anger, yet he held himself back. He watched the tiny kitten attempt to run after its mistress, hissing and growling and screaming. Its attempt proved to be futile, as one of the many men simply kicked it away. Its small, fuzzy body caught an impact with the wall of the house and stayed motionless.
He decided to follow them as soon as it would be safe, and as their lights and noises grew more distant, he started walking. He rushed over to the kitten, carefully picking up its small body, searching for a sign of life while holding his breath. His palm was greeted by a tiny heartbeat and steady breathing and he exhaled in relief. Gently, he placed the animal in the inside of his long coat, and went after the angry mob again.

—-

The last thing you could remember was being dragged away from your home. And the next thing you knew was that you were tied to a stake high up on a pedestal. You pried your eyes open, hissing at the pounding ache on the backside of your head, as you took in your surroundings.

The men were assembled in front of the pedestal, pure hatred still engraved in their faces. When you realized you were tied to a pole, flammable hay and dry wood piled beneath you, your stomach sank and your eyes widened in panic. The men were holding torches. They thought of you as a witch. They were going to set you on fire.

You wiggled and struggled against the ropes that bound you, desperately trying to break free. You cried out loud, in hopes someone would hear. However, the forest clearing they had chosen was tied off the village by a piece of thick, dark forest, drowning out any and all noise.

“Let me go! What has gotten into you? I am not a witch, I tell you!”, you yelled at them.

“If we would have known you’d never shut your mouth, we would have simply cut your tongue out, witch”, the leader of the group spat at you with a snarl, “But, it is too late for that, I am afraid. Women simply do not become doctors. And they surely don’t do so to treat people in a village with… herbs and potions. You will not trick us. Your time has come.”

The shock of realizing the sheer extent and consequence of the uneducated and superstitious left you speechless. You could see it in their eyes. No amount of reason would get through to them. You’d need your friends, patients and allies from all over the village to save you, but they could not hear you. They would wake in the morning and wonder where you’d gone. They’d be left helpless and confused. Your thoughts were racing. Time and time again, you pinched your eyes shut, hoping that when you opened them again, it all would have been but a dream - only to find yourself in the same, real nightmare.

Your head hung low as they lowered their torches to the hay. It started with a glowing ember, then it caught on fire. You watched as it spread, smoke growing thicker, your eyes watering from the sting it left in your vision. Tears ran down your face like waterfalls, almost like a sorry attempt at extinguishing the roaring flames beneath you. You’d never wanted to die afraid. But you couldn’t help it.

—--

The Creature stumbled through the thick of the forest, tripping over logs and roots, dead leaves crushing and cracking beneath his feet. Just as he arrived at the border of the forest clearing, his eyes could make out their torches being lowered to a pile of dry wood and hay. His gaze wandered up the pile, up a stake and stopped at a familiar, tender frame tied to the wooden pole. The horror of it all took his breath. She was trapped. She was doomed. And they simply watched. The stench of the flames reminded him of his own past, chained in a cellar, as his creator had emptied countless containers of flammable liquids, setting it all ablaze. He remembered his fear, his panic, his helplessness. The only word he had known, the only word he could have screamed back then, the name of his creator - his captor, his tormentor.

He wouldn’t let this happen. Not if he was right there. Fueled by rage and the ghosts of his past, he stepped out of the woods and headed for the stake.

—-

All you could hear was the cracking noise of the flames as it grew louder and louder. How long would it take until you fell unconscious? Would the flames have reached your feet by then? Would you feel them eat your gown and flesh?

You were ripped out of your thoughts by a second source of noise emerging. The men were yelling something. As you raised your head, you noticed that they were facing to the right, some slowly backing away in horror, others gripping their weapons tighter. You followed their horrified gazes. And that’s when you saw him.

An abnormally tall, broad figure, towering over all of these men. He looked grim, his arms trembling with rage. His gaze wandered from the group of men up to you for a brief moment. A brief moment, in which your eyes met. A sense of warmth and familiarity rushed through you for the split of a second, before he averted his gaze again to face the angry mob of men.

Some who dared to charge at him, carelessly got tossed aside or straight into the flames as if they weighed nothing. The sound of the flames in the silence of the night was split by the screams of these men. The strange man made short process with the lot of them if they only but crossed him. As soon as the group had somewhat dissolved, his eyes scanned the stake, desperately looking for a way to get you out of this mess. If he toppled it over, you might get hurt, but it was the only way to go, if he didn’t want to catch on fire himself. He stepped back, ran toward the stake full speed, leapt over the flames and grabbed the wooden pole. Using his full weight and force to drag it across, he managed to make it tilt and sure enough, it got ripped from its anchoring. You watched in slow motion as the stake fell over, including you. The ground came closer at an alarming speed - however, shortly before you would have made impact with the ground, something caught you, your face hovering mere centimeters over the ground.

Large hands lifted and tilted the stake, hastily working on loosening the knots that bound you to the wood. After a few rips and tears, you freed yourself and managed to catch yourself from falling to the ground face-first. From the corner of your eye, you saw angry men emerging from the smoke, charging at you. In the split of a second, the large wooden stake that had been your prison just a minute before, got thrown into their way, knocking them off their feet with full force. Before you could react, you were lifted up bridal style and carried away. His face was hidden by the shadows and his hair, the backside of his frame traced by the light of the flames, as he carried you further into darkness, into the forest, away from the village and away from the stake. With each of his steps, the noise of the men and the large fire grew further away, until at some point, all that surrounded you was the silence of the forest in the embrace of night.

Chapter Text

Not a single word was exchanged. You were too terrified to speak - still silenced from the shock, the surreality of the situation. You felt as if you were trapped in a nightmare of the worst sorts. You felt too much and numb at the same time, trying to make sense of it all, to no avail.

The strange man who had saved you didn’t seem to be a man of many words, since he mirrored your silence, all while radiating a calm, steady energy.

A familiar sensation tore you out of your trance - a soft, vibrating sensation emanating from the inside of the man's heavy coat. In the merciless dark you could see two tiny orbs reflecting the dim moon light, squinting at you lovingly. A breathy sound of relief escaped you and you carefully reached forward, gently stroking the soft fur of your tiny feline companion. Tears welled up in your eyes and your lips stretched into a smile. Your eyes wandered up to the man's face and even though it was too dark to see much, you could feel that he returned your gaze. No words were spoken, yet all was understood.

—--

Daybreak came and the forest was slowly illuminated by the rays of the rising sun. You must have dozed off in the stranger's arms at some point, lulled to sleep by your kitten's soft purring. You pried your eyes open slowly, your vision still a blur out of green, brown and sunlit golden speckles. Slowly, your eyes adjusted and you took in your surroundings. You arrived at a small forest clearing, and you were gently set down on a fallen tree. As you looked up at your savior's face, it was mostly hidden beneath the shadow of his large hood.

He slightly lifted his arms on each side of his body, presumably to signal you he was unarmed.. Something beneath, or rather, inside his coat moved and struggled and mewled and he reached inside to free his tiny prisoner. With the most gentle and precise movement, he lifted your kitten out of his pocket. It fit perfectly into the palm of his large hands and his gaze rested on the tiny creature for a moment, before he offered the kitten to you. You gave him a warm smile, gingerly picking the kitten from his hands.
“Thank you!”

Your fingertips brushed against his palm briefly, and he almost seemed to flinch at the feeling. Was he hurt? Had he gotten burned by the fire?

Your kitten settled down in your lap, its purring growing louder and deeper.

Your eyes wandered back to the man. He just stood there, unsure what to do or how to behave. Something in the way he moved seemed like a young child that had been tossed into a new situation it didn’t quite know how to handle, which you found strangely endearing. You decided to take a leap of faith and spoke up to him.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”, you asked with a gentle voice.

A soft grunt escaped his throat, as his eyes slowly darted from side to side.
“I am… fine”, he replied hesitantly. His voice was abnormally dark, the pronunciation of his words was very unique in a way that it seemed as if he chose each word with great consideration before uttering it. It made you wish he had spoken more than just these three words, as you felt that he most likely had very interesting thoughts to share, but for some reason, didn’t dare to.

“Your hands, are they burned? You flinched a bit when I touched you just a moment ago”, you said.

“Ngh… no”, he murmured, “I was merely not expecting it, I am sorry.”

A soft smile formed on your lips, “I see. I apologize for startling you.”

He shook his head, burying his face beneath the high collar of his coat. Another soft grunt followed. Was he hiding from you?

The sun slowly but steadily lit up the forest. As the light rose, the shadows moved, causing gentle rays of light to find their way on the strange man’s frame and face bit by bit. He was tense, you could tell. Unsure of what to do, of what would come next.

He had never planned for this to happen. He had wanted it, somehow, but not like this. The fantasy of knocking on your door had always felt so warm and nice, but that was all that it had been: an idea. Something free of judgment, free of shame. Something just for him to enjoy as he closed his eyes, something to comfort him, something to keep him going.

And now, you were here.

“Why don’t you sit with me for a while? You must be tired from carrying me around all night”, you said, patting your hand on the dense wooden bark next to you.

Very slowly, he sat down, never taking his eyes off you for too long. He made sure he wouldn’t accidentally sit on your hand or your dress, carefully calculating his every move. As his weight settled down next to you, you exhaled in relief. His hands rested on each side of him, palms on the tree's bark. Every now and then, he moved his fingers slowly, as if he was trying to make sure they were still there.

“So”, you continued after a few minutes of sitting in silence, “I haven’t properly introduced myself, I apologize. I am (Y/N). In my village, I was a-”

“Doctor”, he finished your sentence bluntly.

“Yes. Well, at least that is what I tried to be…”, you added, your words trailing off. You ended your sentence with a low, pitiful chuckle, staring somewhere into the void.

“You were a doctor. To the people that needed your help, you were”, the man stated. His voice was steady and confident as he said it.

“How do you know?”, you asked, “I don't even know it myself anymore. Everything has been turned upside down.”

He went silent. He couldn’t tell her that he had been watching over her, day and night. It was not the right time, nor the right place. But he had to do something to start, anything.

“I… should… show myself”, was everything he managed to get out. “Please do not be afraid.”

His hands moved to his hood in a slow, graceful motion, and gently pushed it back. Only his side faced you, and his face was still hidden behind his long, wavy hair. Hesitantly, he turned to face you.

His face was painted with scars, even though they looked more like seams since the skin was patchy and somewhat discoloured, almost blue-ish, as if it wasn’t all from one and the same person, but from a few different faces stitched together. But he was well-proportioned to the point that he almost appeared like a statue cut from marble with great precision. His eyes were dark and deep-set, but oh, they carried such depth and intensity, it nearly took your breath away. His hair fell in slightly messy, wavy locs around his face, all a warm brown in colour, except for a strand of grey on his right temple. You had never seen anyone like him.

“Who are you?”

The words had tumbled from your lips before you knew.

His eyes stared deeply into your soul, looking for something he couldn’t find. He briefly averted his gaze as if he was looking for the right answer to your question. All he could tell you, all that he knew.

“I am a monster.”

His answer shook something deep within you. 

“I would strongly disagree”, you responded, “Why would you think that?”

“It is what I have been told, it is all I could find out. How I came to be…”, his words trailed off.

“I can merely judge you from what I have witnessed up until this point, and I'd rather believe that you are a brave man with his heart in the right place”, you said.

“I am not even a man. I am violent, dangerous. A mistake”, he scoffed.

“Then why did you save me?”

Your question hit him like a brick.

“What they were doing… it was not right”, he stammered, “They were going to kill you.”

“For all that you know, I could be a witch. So how can you tell?”, you prodded further.

“I… have seen you. Many times. For a long time. You helped many people and they trusted you. I have heard the kindness in your voice, seen the softness in your face”, the man explained. 

You listened to his every word as if it were a poem to be treasured, with every syllable that toppled over his lips creating a sense of depth and wonder in your mind. You gave him time to recollect himself and let him continue, encouraging him with a subtle nod.

“So tell me, if you were a witch, and if this was what a witch does - why would men spitefully erase good from this world in such a violent and cruel way?”, he continued. He swallowed harshly. “I… I saw your face last night. Tied to that stake. You were afraid. So afraid… I remembered this feeling. You did not deserve it, not after all that I have seen.”

You pondered his words for a moment.

“You have been watching me? How?”

“I have kept myself hidden in a small shed on the outskirts of the village, not far from your home. It is all I have known. People… fear me when they see me. They chase me away, they hunt me. All that I have ever been rewarded with is violence and pain”, he said.

Your eyes were glued to his, looking for the truth in them. Each word of pain he spoke was reflected within his dark orbs. His left iris was slightly larger than his right one, you noticed. All he told you was nothing but the truth.

“I understand. You were afraid to show yourself. I wish you would have, though. I would have welcomed you into my home. The nights can be cold and harsh, and the hearth could have warmed two just as well as it had warmed me alone”, you spoke gently, “I am sorry people have been cruel to you.”

He flinched at your words, turning his head away. Then he turned back to face you.

“Why aren't you afraid of me?”

“It's your eyes”, you blurted out. You were met by a look of utter confusion.

“My… eyes? What about them?”, he asked.

“They say, the eyes are the windows to one's soul. Your eyes don’t show me any danger or malice”, you explained, “Neither does the way you move or the way you speak.”

The man stayed silent, pondering. Your words echoed through his mind.

“You don’t know anything about me. If you knew the whole truth, you would be terrified.”

You smirked, “If you are so keen on convincing me to run from you - you may tell me everything about you, and we will see. One step at a time.”

He shot you a confused look.

“But perhaps we could start with your name?”, you added, offering him a soft smile.

“My… name…”, he murmured, “I don't have one.”

“You don't have a name? How come?”

He hesitated. There was so much he had to explain, but was not ready to do so.

“My creator never gave me one. But… I am the first of my kind. I once read stories about the first of the people, a woman named Eve and a man named Adam. I feel similar to them, in a way.”

“I can call you Adam, if you would like?”, you suggested, slowly extending your hand to him.

With his mouth slightly agape, he watched your tender hand being offered to him. He had watched people greet each other before. The men would shake hands. If a man greeted a woman, however, she would offer her hand, and the man would place his lips on the back of her hand, while bowing to her.

You watched him process the moment, curious, whether he would accept the handshake you offered to him.

He shifted his broad frame to the ground in front of you, getting down on one knee. His large hand took hold of yours ever so gently, bringing it closer to his face. With his head bowed down, he placed his lips on the back of your hand for a brief moment, before looking back up at you. 

“If you give this name to me, I will keep it. So then, from now on, my name shall be Adam”, he said, keeping eye contact. Deep sincerity and gratitude radiated from his dark orbs.

His response to your gesture caught you off guard and you felt your cheeks heat up just enough to display a soft shade of pink on your face. You accepted it with a wide smile.

“It's wonderful to make your acquaintance, Adam. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for saving my life.”

You watched the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, as he clumsily attempted to mirror your expression. He was not familiar with smiles and kindness being offered to him. He had to get used to it, although it still felt like he did not deserve them. He fought the urge to rest his head against you, longing for an embrace, but he knew that it was not the right time.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, he moved back to sit next to you.

You watched the rays of the sun dance along the trees as it continued to rise and took a deep breath. This morning was cruelly beautiful in contrast to the horrors of the night that had passed, but it felt as if it marked the start of a new life. Your mind was riddled with all sorts of worries and uncertainty while your eyes followed the rays of light on their dance among the forest. Your kitten was content, resting in your lap, purring softly.

All the while, the Creature silently sat by your side, watching over you. He could tell that you were fighting demons within you that he couldn’t save you from, the weight of your fate sitting heavily upon your shoulders. The sound of your voice saying his name was replaying in his mind, again and again. He had a name now. It filled him with a sense of purpose and belonging, he felt as if he had become more human.

Suddenly, he was distracted by the feeling of a tiny weight stepping on his leg. The kitten had gotten up to move over to him, lazily stretching in the process. It looked up at him with squinting eyes, never ceasing to purr as loudly as its tiny body allowed.

A chuckle emitted from your throat. 

“It seems like he likes you”, you said.

“He?”, the Creature asked.

“Yes. It’s a boy cat.”

He looked at the kitten with a hint of wonder in his eyes, cocking his head to the side.

“Does the boy cat have a name?”, he thought out loud.

“No, not yet. I did not know what name to give him yet”, you sheepishly admitted.

“Perhaps… we can think of a name… together?”, he suggested, a hint of excitement twinkling in his eyes.

“Yes, we can do that”, you cooed, “But perhaps we should look for a place to stay first. It is daybreak but without shelter, the following nights may look grim for us.”

The Creature perked up. We? Us? Did that mean he would have a companion? Did she want to stay together?

“Us? We will seek a place to stay… together?”

You blinked at him slowly.

“I mean, uhm, of course we don’t have to - I just thought that, if we are both alone, that it would be a good solution. We have better chances if we are together…”, you explained, “Though I will not force you to stay with me, of course.”

“No! No… I would like to stay together”, he said, quickly grabbing a hold of your hand, “Please.”

“Of course”, you replied, giving his hand a reaffirming squeeze. You got up on your feet, patting off dirt from your dress.

“Let us move on, then.”

—---------

With your kitten stored safely back in his jacket, you moved on through the forest.

You were glad that you hadn’t been in just your nightgown when you got abducted from your home. It was a habit you had developed, going to bed in a dress that was suitable for getting up and going quickly, in case there ever would have been an emergency - you had learned that from the first childbirth you had supervised. However, the dress was not exactly suited for travel and neither were your shoes. Furthermore, the hems of your dress were stained black and damaged from the fire, which did not exactly make a great picture, either. If you believed your new companion, being seen by other people was not an option anyways for now, so you let the matter rest.

After walking for a few hours more, your eyes could make out something that looked like a structure of some kind in the distance. Your companion stopped you gently by motioning you to stop with his arm.
“Stay here. I will take a look at this”, he hummed.

You watched him wander off into the distance, grasping onto the skirt of your dress nervously. You could hear your own heartbeat as you waited, or rather, prayed for his return. After a little while that felt like much longer, you saw his broad frame approach you with heavy, even steps.

“It is safe”, he said, “A small house. Made of stone, mostly. It is a little broken but perhaps we can repair it.”

You sighed in relief. An abandoned house in the middle of the woods sounded like your greatest possible blessing. A questionable blessing, perhaps. But given your situation, it would have to do.

You accompanied him on his way back to the house and you were mildly impressed by what you saw then. It was a cottage, yes, but with a stone and brick foundation. The roof was a little leaky and a few boards were missing here and there, but otherwise it seemed fine.

Upon further inspection, you found that it even had a small basement as well as a storage room under the roof. It had separate rooms, even a bedroom, and two hearths. It was fairly luxurious, for what it was.

“What do you think? Is it good?”, Adam asked you.

“I think it is wonderful. We should fix the holes in the roof first, or else the next rain might make us wet”, you pondered, tapping a finger against your chin.

“Tell me what you need me to do”, he said, “And I will get to work straight away.”

—----

Fixing the major damages was done near the end of the day, thanks to Adam. He was a bit clumsy in some regards, however, he learned fast. His incredible strength was a great help, as well.

While you swept out dirt and leaves and made sure the hearth and chimney were ready to use, he went out to collect firewood nearby. And when night came, you had all but finished the bare necessities, and worked on getting a fire in the hearth started. He watched closely as the sparks turned to ember to flames, and when the fire was finally started, you got up and dusted off your clothes.

“There! We made it. This should do for the first night”, you proclaimed. Adam nodded in agreement, before you continued: “The bedding looked fine to me for the most part, but I think we should hang it in front of the fire to dry, as it seemed a bit damp when I touched it earlier.”

“I see”, he said, “Beds… I think I have never slept in one.”

“You have never… slept in a bed before?”, you asked, visibly confused. He lowered his gaze, seemingly in shame.

“I was never rewarded as much as that, no. There was a time where I lived with an old man, who was blind. He taught me to read, he taught me about the world. He was my only friend. I had a soft place to sleep then, but I don’t think it was a bed”, he explained, his words staggering every now and then. You watched his face closely. In the dim light of the fire, his features seemed darker than usual. The pupil of his left eye was reflecting the light, making it glow in a golden hue.

You walked towards him slowly, gently taking a hold of his hands, holding them in yours. Your thumbs brushed over his blue-ish skin absentmindedly, while you pondered your next words.

“Let us make a deal. You tell me your story, and I will tell you mine. You teach me everything about you, and I will teach you everything I can and anything you’d like to know more about, answer every question you have. How does that sound?”

Adam looked down on his hands that lay within yours. He relished in the feeling of the tender strokes of your thumb on his skin, even though he knew the feeling would be very brief.

“A… deal, hm. I think I might like it”, he said in a low voice, “Can you… promise me one thing?”

“What would that be?”, you asked.

“Please do not turn away from me, when you learn my story”, he pleaded, “I know it may be much to ask of you, but… please. Try.”

“I promise, as much as my conscious mind allows. I will listen, and not run”, you responded softly, as if he was a deer you were trying not to scare away.

The golden glow in his eye radiated relief, as the tension in his shoulders subsided, accompanied by a deep exhale. You held eye contact in silence for a while. It didn’t feel strange or awkward, not with him.

“Let us sit down by the fire and start somewhere”, you said, leading him towards two chairs near the hearth.

Chapter Text

The two of you sat down by the fire. A long moment of silence passed, with neither one of you knowing where to start. Your kitten was busy patrolling around its new territory, making sure each nook and cranny was examined thoroughly.

“The fire feels… warm”, his voice suddenly broke the silence, “I forgot what it feels like to simply just exist for a moment in peace.”

“You can be at peace here for as long as you like, and for as long as circumstances allow”, you responded, “Now tell me: Who are you and where do you come from?”

It took him a few seconds to collect himself, before he finally started talking.

“I was… created by a man who was a doctor of the highest rank, a surgeon. In an old water tower near the cliffs. For a long time, I did not know about how I came to be. All I knew was him. He had chained me in the basement, so I would not cause harm or be seen. I remember the fear I felt whenever he approached. I learned fast, but not fast enough for him. He tried to teach me how to speak but he did not know how. Which sounds… strange, considering he was a well educated man.”

“So he was your father?”, you asked, trying to follow.

“Not in a traditional sense, no. You see, I… was not created like… you. I am… an atrocity. A carnage. I was created from a myriad of corpses snatched from the battlefields, stitched together to build an entirely new form. Look at my skin”, he said, showing his wrists, pushing down the collar of his torn shirt to reveal his shoulders, “These are not scars. They are seams.”

Swallowing harshly, you tried to process this new information. What he told you felt entirely surreal, you could not even believe something like this to be possible.

“How? How did he achieve it? How are you… alive?”

“I am uncertain about the details. Everything I read and came to understand is… it involved a lot of body parts, a strong amount of electric force and strange machinery that is beyond my comprehension”, he explained, fidgeting with his hands, “All I know is, I woke up alone, covered in bandages. There was no growth, no childhood. Just a new soul trapped in this reanimated flesh prison.”

“Look at me. Let me see you”, you said, prompting him to look at you directly. You gingerly reached out to his face, gently pushing his wavy strands of deep brown hair aside. Your fingertips traced along the seams of his face, following the paths of his creator, trying to comprehend his work process. Upon further inspection, it truly was as he had said. Whatever his creator had chosen, must have been the best he could have found. Though discoloured, clearly showing the root of death in his creation, his body was a marvel - at least from what you could see.

You got startled when a deep, rumbly hum escaped his throat.

“I apologize”, he murmured, “Your… hands…”

“Did I hurt you?”, you asked, worry etched deeply onto your face.

“No. I was unfamiliar with this kind of touch. You are… not violent”, he clumsily stated, unsure whether the words he had chosen had been correct.

“Oh. I was trying to be very gentle”, you explained, continuing your examination of his skin.

“I think I like it. You can look at me closely more often, if you would like”, he said.

A quiet chuckle escaped you. He was so innocent in his words, it was very endearing.

“Well… you are a scientific marvel, if I may say so. I would like to learn more about you, in time.”

“You may… learn”, he hummed, enjoying your touch with his eyes closed, “As long as you keep being gentle.”

You hummed in agreement.

“So, you were new to this world like a newborn babe, but your body was quite different?”

“I assume so, yes. I did not know anything. I did not know sunlight nor rain, day nor night, kindness nor cruelty. The latter I learned sooner than later, though”, Adam explained.

“Your creator. Where is he now?”, you asked.

“Dead”, he stated bluntly, “By my hand, or through extension, his own. In the end, he reaped what he had sown.” 

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you slowly retreated your hands from him. Was this what he had meant by ‘dangerous’?

When he realized your hands had left him, his eyes fluttered open slowly. The moment his eyes met yours, he knew your look was fear.

“No. No… please”, he breathed, grasping your hands in his, “I will not hurt you, I promise. I am no danger to you, please… listen.”

Your breathing calmed slowly and you nodded, giving his fingers a reaffirming squeeze.

You listened quietly as he told his story, of how his creator had tried to unmake him by setting the water tower ablaze. How he had escaped through the canals, how he had drowned only to come alive again. How he escaped to the forest and was shot by hunters, how he had found refuge in the shed of a farmer family’s cottage. How he secretly watched them and learned, how he brought them gifts and was called “The Spirit Of The Forest”, how they had left gifts for him in return. How they had left all except for an old blind man out of fear from the wolves, and how the old man had prompted him to come out of hiding, his missing eyesight having made him unjudgemental to Adam’s shape. He had taught him to read and speak and encouraged him to learn where he had come from. He told the story of how he had come to learn of his origins, of the pain it had caused him. How he had returned to the cottage only to find the old man had been attacked by wolves, and he could only be with him in his last moments. How the hunters had returned, only to shoot him upon having found him next to the deceased old man. He told you how he had died and bled out, only to come to life again in the cold, dead snow.

Throughout his whole story, you never let go of his hands.

Adam then continued and told you about how he had sought out his creator to request a companion, which he had denied in utter disgust and arrogance. He had learned that his creator had viewed him as nothing but a mistake, an obscenity. He had watched as his creator had driven everyone around him to ruin in his madness. And at last, he had told you about the chase and finally the act of forgiveness on the frozen ship somewhere way up north from Denmark.

You listened to his words in awe as you witnessed a truly unbelievable tale.

“And that is”, he finished, “All that is me. Everything.”

Silent tears streamed down your cheeks. His eyes had been fixed on the flames dancing in the hearth for the majority of his story and he finally turned back to face you. His eyes widened when he saw you. Hesitantly, he lifted his hand up to your face, brushing away a single tear with his thumb.

“You are… crying”, he observed, “Why? Are you feeling sad?”

“I am moved by your story, Adam”, you explained, quickly wiping away the remainder of your tears, “I feel for you.”

“I don’t understand”, he said, “I don’t think anyone has ever felt for me.”

“Sometimes, when we learn about someone else’s tragedies and sorrows, we can feel sad for them, or, with them. It’s called compassion, or empathy”, you explained.

“Is it… good?”, he asked.

“I believe it is a wonderful ability. It feels undeniably human. Not every person can feel it the same, whether it is the complete lack of it or merely a different intensity. But I believe you must have felt it before”, you told him, “When you saw me being tied to that stake, helpless and in terror.”

Realization sparked in his dark eyes. “Because… I knew how it felt. And did not want another to feel that way.”

You nodded with a  warm smile, “Yes, precisely. You feel it naturally, that speaks well for your heart.”

He mirrored your smile. “For a heart that has been ripped from a dead man’s chest, it seems to serve quite well.”

“You are you. Your very own person, with a very own soul. Not stolen, not copied. You think for yourself and feel for yourself. I know it must be difficult to bear such origins, but please try to leave it behind”, you pleaded with him.

His eyes pierced through to your very soul, the left pupil glowing golden in the firelight. It was a new gaze, one that you could not fully read.

“For you, I shall try”, he breathed.

—-----

After a moment in silence, he asked for your story. To you, it felt quite boring in contrast to his, but you watched him follow your words with sparkling eyes. When you told him about how you had studied to be a doctor, he seemed particularly interested.

“You said that you have traveled towns and assisted doctors to learn. Which doctors have you learned from?”, he asked.

“Oh, a few. For the longest time, I assisted an elderly doctor by the name of Wolfgang Aster, who believed that times would change and women were going to be able to become doctors just as well as men in the future. Very briefly, I also encountered a man named Viktor Frankenstein, who was one of the most skilled surgeons known. I learned a lot from him, but he was arrogant and would have preferred me as his betrothed rather than his student. Before long, he disappeared. I did not know what became of him, but ill speaking voices claimed he had gone mad over his lifework of…”, your voice trailed off as you slowly turned to face him. His expression was grim, his jaw clenched, his eyes darkened.

“... creating life from the dead”, you whispered, finishing your sentence from before with realization slowly setting in. It felt like you were going to be sick, like a knife had been twisted in your abdomen. It would have taken merely a few words; however, you felt as if you’d been paralyzed.

“So you have met my creator”, he hissed, “Viktor.”

He pronounced his name in a very unique, specific way. It was clumsy and precise at the same time, uttered like it had been spoken the same way a thousand times before.

“Yes… yes, I have”, you mumbled.

“Tell me”, he began, his broad frame straightening and towering over you, “Did he hurt you?”

“No. He never dared to lay hands on me, no. The worst he did was humor me when I told him of my plans to become a doctor”, you explained calmly.

“That… counts, for me. You are a good doctor. More of a doctor he could have ever been. If I only but could, I would make him bleed again, for insulting you”, he growled.

His sudden change of presence made you shiver. Taking a leap of faith, you gently took a hold of his shoulders, attempting to calm his anger. “He is gone, Adam. He will not insult me, nor hurt you ever again.”

The rage in his eyes subsided and was replaced by a soft shimmer of defeat and tenderness. The hurt in his expression could not be described by words, as it was deeper than anyone could reach. He slipped from his chair and fell onto his knees directly in front of you, arms loosely hanging down by his sides.

“I fear him, when he haunts my dreams”, he breathed, “I hate him, when his grasp still holds me down. And I curse that his name is the first thing I have ever known, and the only thing, for a long time.”

You watched him closely, never taking your eyes away from him.

“You are haunted by his presence, which still lingers. It is all normal, albeit painful and unfair”, you spoke, gently moving one of your hands to the top of his head, patting him gently. With the touch of your hand, he closed his eyes and relished in the feeling. It felt like everything he had ever wanted and more. It felt as if a flame deep within him was slowly ignited, dancing along with the flames in the hearth. He leaned into your touch and saw that you extended your other arm subtly, inviting him in to rest against your body. He looked up at you in disbelief.

“Even monsters need comfort and security”, you hummed, “You may rest now.”

You had not quite finished speaking as he nearly threw himself against you, head resting against your belly, arms wrapped around your waist. He sunk into himself, getting lost in the feeling of holding someone close like this, and as you lay your hands and arms around him, all that had remained of his composure was lost. And he realized, for the first time, he had told someone his entire story. He finally had someone who listened to him. 

You watched as he silently wept, sometimes gently stroking his head, offering comfort and warmth to someone who had never been given as much as a hug. The two of you stayed like this for a long while, until he had run out of tears.

As you slowly grew tired, you readied the large bed. Luckily, you had been able to dry the sheets and blankets and furs, allowing for a somewhat cozy resting spot for the first night.

You signaled Adam that you would be laying down to rest, and invited him to do so as well if he liked. He declined for now, saying he would stand guard and watch over you. There was no persuading him, and you gave up on trying to do so soon enough. As you lay down and your eyelids grew heavier, the cracking noise of the fire lulled you to sleep. The last thing your tired eyes saw was his tall, broad frame in the chair next to the fire.

—--

Adam was not ready to find rest, not yet. What if someone found them? What if he had to protect her? He sensed no immediate danger, and yet he felt that it would be for the best to stay on guard for now. Watching the flames in the hearth burn low, he reached over to the stack of firewood and added a bit more to keep the fire going. His thoughts were still gnawing on your previous conversation. However, his mind was stuck on the feeling of your hands on him. The warmth of your embrace, the way his torso seemed to perfectly fit into your lap, as if you had been made to hold him. He kept replaying the memory in his head, again and again, afraid that it would fade away or leave him somehow. The longer the moment had passed, the colder he felt.

He got up and walked up to the doorframe leading to the bedroom to check on you. There you were, sound asleep. You looked peaceful. Exhausted, but peaceful. The bed looked warm and inviting, no less with you in it. A new wish formed in his heart. Oh, how he longed to sleep next to you. To feel your warmth all through the night and into the next morning, merely laying next to him in peaceful slumber. And perhaps, he even would be able to hold you, one day.

The Creature shook off the thought for now, he had to stay alert. It was not safe yet. So he turned back and sat back down in the chair next to the fire, all the way until daybreak.

Chapter Text

You were gently awoken by the sounds of birds chirping. It was surprisingly warm and the sunlight trickled in through the dirty windows, softly guiding you into consciousness. You stretched and yawned and for a moment, your mind illusioned you to think that you were simply at home and that all had been but a nightmare. Next to your head, your little kitten lay rolled up into a ball, purring away.

But as your eyes adjusted and wandered around the room, your heart sank, as it transported you back to reality. It had not been a dream. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and sighed. Instantly, you heard the chair next door creaking, and heavy steps approach the door frame of the small bedroom. Adam's large frame appeared in the door, his hand holding onto the frame like he was an unsure child, peeking at something in secret. 

He saw you sitting upright in the bed, your hands resting upon the covers. Your hair was slightly disheveled, and little rays of sunlight graced your frame, making it appear as if you were glowing. Watching you with admiration, he nearly forgot he was there.

“Good morning Adam”, you spoke, giving him a kind smile, “You may come in, if you would like”. Hearing you speak his name after hours of silence made his heart flutter. It sounded much more wonderful to him than any music, or the singing of birds. It was a melody like no other to him.

“Good… morning”, he repeated, carefully treading towards you, moving slowly, as if he tried not to break anything.

“Did you sleep at all?”, you asked.

“No… no need. I stood guard”, he replied.

“Maybe next time, I can stay awake and watch over you, while you sleep”, you suggested.

“I can do without sleep, it is quite alright”, he said, “I’d much rather you sleep and recover and be… safe. If anyone comes after us, I can protect you better. I am strong.”

You recalled bits and fragments of the night he had saved you from being burned alive. The sheer force and strength in his limbs had been… otherworldly. He had tossed grown men as if they weighed nothing. You remembered it more distinctly now, his noises, his face. An almost primal rage in the face of the calculated, cruel violence of men - not quite uncalled for, from your opinion. The memory sent a small shiver down your spine. It stirred something within you, though you were not quite sure what it was.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, stepping closer. His voice made you snap out of your thoughts.

“Yes, I am. Sorry”, you breathed, “I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

His brows furrowed, eyes clouded with worry and doubt. The Creature knelt down next to the bed, studying your face with deep honesty in his dark eyes.

“Do I frighten you?”, he asked with a husky voice, merely a whisk away from a tremble. “I know that look you had in your eyes. I have seen it before.”

“No, Adam. You do not scare me. And you could never scare me as much as any other person”, you chuckled.

“Why is that?”, he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“You are… not complicated. You are honest. You mean well. There still is so much for you to learn, but you learn quickly. You can tell right from wrong, easily”, you explained, “But most humans… are something else. Sometimes you can never tell their true intent. They will feed themselves lies and feed them to others, for no larger reason than to antagonize and hate. To divide and oppress. Take me for instance: all I wanted was to be a doctor. But they would not let me, nor accept me. Not even the men in the towns, in the universities. They looked at me and they laughed.”

“Why did they laugh at you? You seem like a good, capable doctor to me”, Adam noted.

“Bless your heart, you would not know. It was merely because I am a woman”, you answered with a pitiful chuckle escaping you.

His eyes showed nothing but utter confusion. He tried his best to wrap his mind around it, to no avail.

“I do not understand”, he mumbled.

“Society feels that women should be wives, childbearers and mothers first. They deem them worth less than men, and try to keep them small. Most upper class women get better education, to make them good company, but nothing more”, you continued, “And this is why they laughed at me.”

“It feels unfair”, Adam growled, “I feel that women would make especially good doctors.”

“That is nice of you to say. I think so too”, you cooed, gently brushing a strand of hair out of his face, “Now, let us get the day started, no?”

—--

You spent the day continuing the repairs and stocks of the cottage. Adam would scout for food nearby. You were glad that the season allowed you to harvest all different kinds of fruits of the forest - berries, apples, all the like.

You had started weaving baskets out of dry reeds for all sorts of purposes, and on your scouting tour through the house you had been able to find some abandoned needle and thread, which you were able to use to mend all the ruined fabrics in the cottage.

You knew that, eventually, you would have to get new materials and necessities. Buying things in the next village wouldn’t be an option, since you did not have any money on you. Your mind started planning a heist that would be risky like no other - a visit to your own home. With Adam by your side, you believed you stood a chance. All you would want to do was get as many things from your house as you could carry - money, clothes, as well as some other things. It started as a silly idea; however, it soon gnawed on your mind, forcing you to start planning out the timing and details. You knew that eventually, you would have to tell Adam about this, but not for now.

Your kitten was doing his part, presenting each mouse he caught with pride. You were glad you wouldn’t have to actively feed him, as he presented to be a very skilled hunter early on, so that was one worry less for you.

Adam made sure never to stray away for too far nor too long, and stopped by regularly to check on you. He brought enough to last you at least two days. Eventually, you thought, you would not get around hunting for yourself, as meat was more efficient in the long run.

In the afternoon, you decided you had done enough for the day. The fire in the hearth was already going, warming the cottage up from the inside. In blissful silence, you continued weaving a basket. The Creature watched you with great interest.

“What… are you doing?”, he asked curiously, pointing to the half-finished basket in your hands, “What is this called?”

“I am making a basket. This is called weaving. You can do it with different materials. In fact, most fabrics are woven - look”, you said, lifting up part of your skirt to show him the fabric up close, “If you take a close look you can see that the fabric consists of many threads carefully woven to create a larger whole.”

He squinted, looking very closely. Then, his eyes widened with an excited glimmer. “I can see it. It looks like your basket, just very, very small.”

“Precisely”, you answered, “It’s a very useful craft.”

The Creature got up and started looking at the fabrics around the house, curiously eyeing them. He tried to check everything to see if it had been woven as well, and whenever he did find it, a smile spread across his face, eyes beaming with childlike wonder. A few minutes later, he had finished the tour and sat back down by your side, quietly watching you.

“May I… try… weaving?”, he sheepishly asked after a while.

“Of course”, you said, handing him the basket, “I will show you how.”

You taught him how to weave. His first patches were a bit wonky and uncoordinated, but you corrected them a bit if necessary. He had quickly gotten the hang of it.
“Very good, you learn so quickly”, you praised him. He looked at you with a warm smile.

“Now I can help you. More”, he exclaimed, sheepishly looking down.

“You were already helping a lot, do not worry”, you hummed. The two of you exchanged a look of mutual adoration and trust. His dark eyes sparkled in the dim light of the flames and you found that you could have looked into them for hours, if common decency had not stopped you. Soon, you had resumed your work on the basket and Adam started his own. You sat quietly next to each other, weaving for a long while.

“I miss… reading”, Adam suddenly said after a while. “The old man taught me to read and I have not held a book since then. They had a few books back at their home, the old man told me there were many more out there. Is that so?”

“Yes, there are so many books. I highly doubt one person could read them all in one lifetime”, you responded.

“I think I could. My lifetime will be… long”, he said, his voice barely more than a low rumble. His gaze lowered, staring into the fire.

“You cannot die”, you remembered out loud, “But will you age?”

“I do not think so. I was created with this body. My hair is growing, but apart from that, nothing has changed, I believe”, he explained.

Putting down your work, you looked at him, curiously. “You said that… I may examine you further, to learn more about you. May I, now?”

The Creature nodded hesitantly. A feeling spread in his chest, something between excitement and nervousness. “Do as you wish.”
You motioned him to get up, and he obliged. “I will step closer now and touch you. Do not worry, I will be-”

“...gentle”, he finished your sentence, “I know. I am not worried.”

You stepped closer to him, gently placing your palms on his chest. You lowered your ear to the center of his chest, right above where his heart should be and listened closely. Sure enough, there it was. A strong, steady heartbeat. The longer you listened, the more you noticed it picking up pace. “Are you nervous, Adam?”

If a heart could have jumped, his heart sure would have done so. Having your head rest upon his chest, so close to him that he could pick up the scent of your hair, it affected him in a way that had been somewhat new to him.
“I… am not sure. I don’t feel unwell”, he stated.

“You are breathing steadily as well”, you noted, thinking out loud, “And you consume food - to survive? Can you feel hunger?”

“I can feel hunger but I can do without sustenance for longer than most, I believe. I don’t think I could die from hunger or thirst, even if I tried.”

You nodded softly, causing your cheek to brush against his chest. His twitching hands were dangling next to his sides, as he remained unsure of what to do with them. He did not want to touch you without your permission or hinder your examinations in any way. With growing tension, he exhaled shakily. Meanwhile, you were lost in the sound of his heartbeat. Strong, deep and steady. A perfect rhythm, blood rushing through his blood vessels evenly and without falter. He was so much more human than he believed, and his creator, Viktor Frankenstein, must have done excellent work in assembling him - even though you greatly disliked praising him like this. Not only for the arrogance displayed on a daily basis, but also for treating Adam so atrociously cruel, while he had been so innocently new to this world.

“You know, they say that an ongoing metabolism makes aging inevitable. But your body writes the rules entirely new, so I am unsure if that is an indicator anymore”, you explained, slowly lifting your head off his chest. However, you didn’t get far, as a pair of strong arms pushed you back against it. A startled squeak escaped you.

“I think… you have more examinations to do”, he stammered, “Stay. I do not mind.”

“I do, yes. But I was done listening to your heartbeat and breathing for now, I would like to proceed to something else”, you laughed, patting his chest, “You know, Adam, if you would like a hug, you can just ask.”

Hesitantly, he let you go, carefully releasing you from his hold. “I will remember that. Thank… you.”

“Now, if you're comfortable - would you take off your shirt for me?”, you asked. He did as he had been told, without hesitation. The Creature had no much concept for things like embarrassment or shame, his relationship with his own body and presence was very different than considered common. 

His pale, blue-ish skin glowed softly in the light of the fire, while the seams in his skin threw small shadows. You started tracing the seams with your eyes first, connecting them to his neck. Starting from there, your finger carefully followed a seam from the side of his neck all the way down to his shoulder, taking a close look at the nature and quality of his skin. The arrangement of the seams were rarely symmetrical - then again, it must have been difficult to find good, fitting skin drafts that could be arranged and transplanted absolutely symmetrical. Lost in thought, you traced down the seam from his neck down to the center of his chest, with your other hand resting on his waist. As you examined all the nooks and stitches in his patchwork skin, you noticed speckles and splotches of dark red and brown on his body. When you brushed over them with your thumb, you realized they were dried, and you could rub them off.

“Are these… blood?”, you asked, somewhat baffled.

Adam nodded, “Yes. Mine.”

“Are you hurt?”, you asked, frantically scanning his torso for wounds.

“Not anymore”, he responded, “My body heals very quickly. You will most likely not find the wound from whence the blood came anymore.”

“I see”, you hummed, “But we have to get you cleaned up, anyways. Give me a few minutes, and I will be right back.”

As your fingertips left his skin, a barely audible whine escaped him. But he stood there, patiently waiting for your return.

—--

You had prepared warm water and created a makeshift washcloth from a piece of fabric that you had deemed unsalvageable. Returning to the hearth, water and washcloth in hand, you found him standing there exactly as you had left him.

“Here I am”, you said with a smile, “I prepared something to clean that blood off you.”

The Creature watched as you dipped the cloth in the water bowl and prepared for the cold feeling on his skin. However, he was surprised to find the cloth to be an entirely different temperature.

“It is not cold. It is very warm”, he observed.

“Of course! Washing you with cold water would have been very uncomfortable. Besides, dirt will loosen better with warm water”, you explained.

“I have never been washed with warm water. Only cold. Buckets of them. I got used to the feeling”, Adam told you.

You kept quiet, unsure about what to say, focusing on gently washing off the speckles of blood.

“It feels nice. If washing can be like this, I would like to do it more often”, he hummed, closing his eyes in deep relaxation.

“Wait until you discover bathing, then”, you giggled, “You will love it.”

“I think I might like anything, really, if it is with you”, he said with a low, husky voice, eyes still closed.

A small blush crept up on your cheeks and you smiled sheepishly. Once you had removed the blood, you washed the rest of his upper body with large yet gentle strokes. After that, you put down the cloth and stepped back to take a look at him, making sure you hadn't missed anything. While you took in his form, you noticed that he was incredibly well proportioned. His physique was… nothing short of astonishing. He might just as well have been one of these marble statues come to life. Your eyes rested upon his body for long. Longer than you had intended. 

“Am I clean now?”, he asked, causing you to snap out of it.

“Yes… yes, I apologize. I was just trying to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Oh…”, he mumbled, “I see. Thank you.”

There was a clear hint of disappointment in his voice. He had cherished every second of being tended to, the feeling of you brushing against his skin still lingered. A part of him had hoped he would never be clean, as long as it meant you would keep doing what you had done.

“Oh, you are very welcome”, you said, “I still have to repay you for saving my life, after all. And in addition, you let me examine you. If I can do something for your comfort, I will gladly do so, as long as it is within my capabilities.”

“You do not have to repay me”, he said with a raspy voice.

“But I would like to”, you responded with a smile.

—--

The two of you sat back down near the fire. You had taken to mending his shirt, since you noticed it was torn largely in places. Luckily, you had been able to scratch off most of the rust off the needle, and got to work straight away. Adam watched patiently.

“You mentioned”, he started clumsily, “This house has a washroom.”

“Yes, it does”, you replied, “It has a bath tub, even. Still needs to get cleaned, though. Otherwise it will not be of much use to us.”

“Perhaps we could bathe together”, he suggested. You looked over to him. He had an innocent, hopeful shimmer in his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Feeling your face heat up, you found yourself at a loss for words. You realized he meant it, but was blissfully unaware of the improper implications of his statement. His gaze fell upon your face, and his expression changed to confusion.

“Your face… your cheeks are… red”, he observed, “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, no. I am fine”, you laughed, “I will make sure to prepare the bathtub as soon as I can, so you can have a proper bath.”

He nodded, “Will you have a bath then, too?”

“I will, yes. Do not worry.”

Adam nodded again, satisfied with your response. The excited shimmer in his eyes told you that he was truly looking forward to it. His features glowed in the firelight and a smile crept its way up to your face. He was truly a wondrous creature, fascinating and beautiful in his very own way.

After a long while of silence and nothing but the cracking noises of the fire filling the room, you held up his shirt, admiring your work.
“I am no seamstress, but I think it will do”, you said, “You can put it back on now.”

You handed him the shirt and he gingerly took it from your hands. Adams fingers brushed over the stitched fabric of his shirt, quietly admiring your work.

“You did this, for me. You repaired my shirt”, he uttered in his low, rumbly voice. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it is nothing. You’re welcome”, you replied, averting your gaze, humbly accepting his thanks.

“Nobody has ever done this for me”, he remarked and stood up a little too quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. He pulled the shirt over his head and snuck his limbs back into their right spots. He looked down on himself, curiously taking in the sight of his freshly mended shirt.

“Now it matches my skin”, he noted with a boyish grin, tracing his finger along the seams of his garment.

You covered your mouth to hide a quiet chuckle.

The Creature stood still for a moment, pondering, until he found courage to speak up, “I would like to express proper thanks. I saw… that… sometimes, when people are very happy about something, about a gift or a gesture, they express their gratitude with a hug. May I give you a hug?”

His lips trembled slightly as the words left his mouth.

“That would be very nice, yes. You may”, you cooed, slowly rising up from your chair, stepping towards him.

Clumsily, he opened his arms, inviting you in. It reminded you of his earlier postures and movements, seeming as if he made sure to tell you he was no threat, unarmed.

Stepping closer, until you were mere centimeters away from his chest, you noticed how his breathing hitched. Very delicately, you wrapped your arms around his torso and soon enough you felt his arms embrace you fully. One might have felt trapped by these large arms wrapping around them, but to you it felt like quite the opposite. It felt safe and warm, sincere and gentle. The side of your face was resting against his chest once again, his heartbeat pounding softly against your ear. You felt his warm breath on the top of your head as he gently nuzzled your hair. Truth be told, you could have stayed forever like this. He stirred something within you, you had long since forgotten about, as you always had strived for education and career rather than what most women your age were after: the safety and care of a partner, a companion, a mate. While most married out of duty or convenience, you understood that after all, most craved the embrace of another, a warm body to turn to in cold winter nights, and a source for intimacy. You had had a few suitors, but for the most part had either turned them away or they lost interest, finding you too stubborn, too ambitious, too independent. You did not suit the ideal image of a wife, especially in a small town or village setting. But you had never cared much for that. You had accepted that nobody understood you, that nobody would love and accept you with all that you were, all that you wanted and more. Desire had never crossed your mind again - until now.

“This feels… good. Better than I had imagined”, Adam mumbled against your hair. You giggled, as you slowly let go of him and he followed suit.

“Can we do this again? Soon?”, he asked with a sparkle in his dark eyes.

“Yes, please. I would love to”, you replied with a tender smile.

As darkness fell over the forest, you decided it was time to go to bed soon. Once again, you invited Adam to join. He declined again, offering to stand guard and watch over you instead.

“Do as you wish. In case you should change your mind, there is always space for you. Good night, Adam”, you said, and wandered over to the bed.

His eyes followed you longingly. Every inch of his being wanted to follow you, share the warmth of the bed. But he knew that if something happened, he could never forgive himself. So he stayed in his chair, pondering - for now.