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A booming thud shocked her awake, and she bolted upright in her bed. Another thump, an echoing thud, and Amallia was on her feet in a flash, Commander at her side, growling deep in his chest and teeth bared. The alarm clock next to her bed showed 2:37 AM, and if Cullen wasn’t her neighbor, she would have ignored the sounds, but she was positive they were coming from his apartment across the hall.
She threw on her black satin robe and went for her phone next to the clock. No messages. No phone calls. Another booming thud shook the floor beneath her.
AT: What in the Void are you doing over there?
Minutes ticked by, the clock on her wall beating in time with her pacing footsteps as she circled her apartment, waiting. She should go over there, knock on his door, check on him. Make sure he was okay. Yes, just to make sure he was okay.
The cool metal handle of her door twisted in her grip as her phoned chirped brightly.
CR: Nothing
She wondered if he could hear her disgusted sound of annoyance across the hall, for she had nearly shouted in frustration.
AT: Sounds like a whole fuckton more than nothing!
Another pause, staring at the screen of her phone, and nothing. Commander paced with her as she waited once more, whining and prodding at her hip with his nose.
“I don’t know what he’s doing, stop poking me,” she shushed the Mabari with a scratch behind his ears.
The shelf on the wall that shared Cullen’s apartment rattled, a book falling over and landing with a sharp smack on the wood floor as another thump seemed to shake the entire building.
CR: Just … leave me alone, I’m … becoming one with nature and doing plant things.
What could that possibly mean? Plant things? Becoming one with nature? She knew Cullen enjoyed the outdoors, but communing with nature typically required one to be in it.
AT: I’m coming over.
CR: No! Please! Just … please, I’ll explain in the morning, I promise.
AT: I’d love to go back to sleep, but someone is making an awful lot of noise that woke me up!
CR: I am so sorry, I’m done now.
AT: Do you need me?
Her phone fell silent once more, as did the apartment. No more thumps or booming thuds, and Commander rested at her feet, no longer paranoid. When she looked to him, one eye quirked open to consider her thoughtfully.
“What do you think? Should I go over there?”
The Mabari groaned a non-committal rumble deep in his chest.
“Hm, lot of help you are, lazy bum,” she cooed with another scratch of his ears. Her phone brightened to life once more, chirping lightly.
CR: Maybe.
Maker damn every door existence. She could not pull hers open fast enough, and when she reached Cullen’s, she found it locked and she without her key. Her knuckled fist rapt a quick beat against the wood until it swung wide before her.
Cullen stood before her a disheveled mess, but appeared to be in good health besides the unruly mess of waves circling his head. The last she’d seen those he had been deep in a bought of lyrium withdrawal. She eyed him suspiciously, worried that he may be ill again. Sweat soaked through his t-shirt and his black athletic shorts were bunched awkwardly about his hips, revealing an all too alluring length of his thighs.
“Maferath’s balls, Cullen, what have you been doing? You look like you’ve sprinted from here to Lake Calenhad and back. Cullen?”
She watched as his eyes dragged down her frame, the soft satin clinging to her every curve and angle. His mouth fell open, lips parting to gape at her, obviously stunned by her appearance. When his amber eyes darkened, smoldering as he seemed to feast on her visage, she took a hesitant step closer.
Before she could speak, he grasped her by the wrist and hauled her into his apartment, slamming the door shut. Her shout of surprise was swiftly silenced by his lips crashing down onto hers, his arms trapping her against his body. The sudden rush of arousal pooling at her core instantly dampened her skin, quim spreading to her thighs as she squeezed them together.
All too soon, the kiss ended as Cullen parted from her, but he still held her flush against the hard planes of his chest. A sudden embarrassment flushed his cheeks, and he looked away sheepishly. “I couldn’t help myself …”
Gooseflesh broke out across her arms with a shiver from the cool touch of his sweat-soaked shirt seeping through her satin robe. Or maybe it was the ripple of muscles in his arms, one wrapped low about her waist and hips, the other across her shoulder with his hand grasping the back of her neck. His fingertips bit into the sensitive swathe of skin there, and he hunched over her as she arched into him, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her hands finally wrapped around to his backside, nails digging into the firmness of his arse.
“You know you can take me like that any time, Cullen,” she whispered.
He hummed a laugh through his nose, and his breath brushed across the exposed skin of her collar to give her another shiver. “Oh, I know,” he began as he leaned back, his amber eyes meeting her blue pools, and the lust she’d seen there earlier had been replaced with a tender, loving gaze. “But I’d like to think I’m not just some dumb rutting animal and can treat you with a modicum of respect.”
She patted him on the shoulder, mockingly. “You’re doing just fine right now. Look, we still have clothes on. Well done,” she jested with a giggle. He laughed with her, and she felt the tension ease from his arms a little more. “Now, what in the holy name of Andraste were you doing earlier?”
“Oh,” he sighed. “That. I couldn’t sleep,” he stated as he took her by the hand and lead her to the open space of the living room.
“Something the matter?” she asked as she followed, worry creeping into her voice.
He shook his head. “No, I’m quite well. But I still have nightmares. Often, in face. And they keep me up,” he explained. “Ashara suggested yoga.”
When she rounded the couch, she saw the coffee table had been pushed across the room, flush against the wall, and a yoga mat rolled out in the center of the floor. The t.v. was paused on the image of a woman in shavasana.
“Does this version of yoga consist of tossing fifty pound balls of lead across your apartment?” she asked with a laugh, unable to contain the humor.
Cullen’s laugh mingled with hers, but she saw his cheeks color slightly in the dim light of the t.v. “No. I am not very good at yoga, it seems.”
Confused, she thought for a moment, and then it dawned her. Not fifty pounds. Two hundred and fifty pounds. “That was you thumping around?”
He took the comment in stride and laughed again. “Turns out I have shit balance,” he said with a shrug. “I imagine that will improve, but damn, is yoga hard. I had no clue.”
Amallia laughed heartily at that and leaned in to hug him. “You’ll get better. I could do it with you, if you’d like. I can lead,” she suggested.
Cullen gave her an appraising look, clearly surprised. “I thought you were a boxer?”
An eyebrow quirked up questioningly. “Yes, but where fighting destress, yoga actually relaxes me. Although, it’s been a few months since I’ve practiced. I need to pick it back up. Tomorrow afternoon we should try it.”
“Tomorrow then. It’s a date,” Cullen replied with a wink.
Amallia yawned in reply, ready to get back to sleep. With a quick kiss to his cheek, she made for the door of his apartment and opened it. Before she crossed the threshold, she threw him a coy smirk over her shoulder. “You know yoga is easier without any clothes, right?”
Cullen’s mouth fell open, and his eyes widened ever so slightly as a fresh wave of red colored his cheeks. His jaw worked, words failing as he stuttered. “Are you … is that ... tomorrow?”
She shrugged her shoulder and gave him a scrunch of her nose. “Maybe. We’ll see. Good night, love.”
“Guh … Good night, pup.”