The hearth beside the tree combines with the soaring ceilings and wooden beams, the windows lining one wall and the plush, comfortable looking furniture to create a home within a home. This one is friendlier than the formal rooms we passed on the first floor. There are signs of wear on the faded leather couch in front of the television and a stack of games on the coffee table. The common area is divided into four distinct sections necessitated by its sheer size: the television watching area, a section for conversation or maybe naps on long couches, the Christmas tree and fireplace section, and a portion including three desks with computers and various other electronics.
I feel myself smile. I like it here. I can definitely see a family spending snowed in days in the area four times the size of my apartment sandwiched between the two wings of the mansion.
"You like it." Petr's gaze is on me.
"Yeah."
He leads me to the hearth. The fire counters the chill emanating from the bank of windows facing the snowy lawns behind the mansion.
"You just need a blanket and cup of tea, and it's perfect," I murmur, sitting on the couch.
Releasing my hand, he sits close enough for our thighs to touch and drapes an arm over the backside of the couch behind me. Propping his feet up on a fat ottoman, he relaxes.
I'm tense, not sure what to expect from him or what he might expect from me. The crackling fire is magical, soothing my fear and warming my skin while Petr's nearness warms me from the inside.
Petr's attention is on the fire, and he's still, as if he understands I'm fighting an internal battle. He's giving me space to do so, and I sense he won't be offended if I get up and sit on the chair instead of beside him.
I probably should. But attraction to his muscular frame, mixed with the knowledge he genuinely likes me, causes me to experience the ache again, the yearning to be normal or at least, to believe this temporary moment might be less fleeting than my usual relationships with people.
A few minutes of peace can't hurt. I can do this.
Heart pounding, I take a deep breath and lean back beside him, shifting to put my feet up on the ottoman with his. Our bodies are in contact, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders briefly to position me against him better. His arm then returns to the back of the couch.
We sit in silence, which I desperately need right now. I'm fighting the impulse to flee. Not that I want to. I'm comfortable around Petr, but this scares me more than if I weren't. Comfortable means letting down my guard, and that terrifies me.