Monsters Under Mistletoe

2. Oak

Chapter 2

Oak

C ollege was hard for me. I figured out who I was, but not what I wanted to do. After spending some time in boring office jobs, I realized I wanted to help people.

The moment it clicked for me was actually when my coworker, Heather, went into anaphylactic shock. I had never seen someone look so scared in my life. I sprang into action, stabbing her with the epinephrine injector we kept in our emergency first aid kit. It literally saved her life, as well as mine.

The rush I felt giving her the medicine mixed with the pride I had knowing I helped someone combined and transformed into sheer determination. That night when I went home, I applied to Augury’s paramedic program, and the rest is history.

Fern has a weird part in my story. In undergrad, Fern was just a nice guy. Snarky, funny, and cute, I’d bump into him on occasion, or we’d have a class together. Nothing crazy. But when I returned for paramedic school, he helped me more than he’ll ever know.

Somehow, Fern was my patient for almost every scenario. The entire time, he’d quietly root for me, whispering to tell me how good of a job I was doing, or giving me hints with his body language of what I needed to do next. He made me feel like I could do this job. It was that extra push—that little bit of support from a near-stranger, that helped me ace my scenarios and exams.

When medic school ended, I regretted not reaching out to him to say thank you. I had the speech planned in my head. Hey, Fern. I just wanted to thank you for being my partner for all those scenarios. Could I take you out to dinner sometime? Y’know, to say thanks. I had repeated it again and again, but on the last day I saw him, I froze.

I’m great on the job and at school—scenarios where there’s a script I can stick to, or specific goals in mind, but small talk is my kryptonite.

I am just shy, I guess. A product of two very introverted parents, one elf and one human. That’s me.

It’s not like I hate talking to people, it can be quite fun. But it’s also exhausting.

And now, as Lily drives us away, I am filled with a deep sense of regret. It’s two-fold. My first regret is not taking Fern to the hospital. Although he’s almost a doctor, it would’ve been good to get him checked out by one, and it would have granted me a bit more time with him. My second regret is not asking for his number.

I stare at my computer screen, realizing I can just pull it up. It would be ethically wrong to do so, I remind myself.

But! What if I was doing it to check on him? I’m just a diligent paramedic, trying to confirm my patient got home safe. If caught, my sergeant would say that’s utter bullshit and I’d most definitely get a write-up, but wouldn’t it be worth it?

While Lily’s eyes remain fixated on the road, I quickly pull up his address and type it into my notes app. I’ll just drive by after work and confirm his car is there. Centaurs have specialized vehicles, so it’ll be obvious if he drove versus a friend.

Continuing my shift after seeing Fern had been difficult at best. Now, our truck is completely restocked, and I watch as Lily waves goodbye before plopping Fern’s address into my GPS.

He lives in the middle of the Illusionary Jungle. How?

Logic hits me like a train as I recall Fern is still in medical school and likely lives on campus in the dorms. Shit. I just hope he doesn’t have roommates.

The drive through the jungle is a peaceful one, though my nerves ruin the luscious view. Kapoks follow tall camphor trees as my car winds through the greenery until we reach the trees which contain the medical dorms. It doesn’t look like December, but the chilly breeze fills my lungs as I force myself to breathe in deep. I love driving with my windows down.

What will I even say to him? Hey, I’m here to see if you’re still breathing and also because I think about you all the time. Yeah, that’s gonna go over well.

Walking up to the dorm, which really just looks like a giant treehouse, I timidly knock on the door.

Seconds feel like hours as my heart lurches in my throat, waiting for someone to open up. I really hope it’s him.

The door swings open to reveal Fern in a tight-fitting white t-shirt, and my eyes fixate on his hardened nipples peeking through the fabric.

“Oak Eildre. The heck are you doing here?”

I flinch. Oh no. Maybe this was a horrible idea, and he’s going to tell my job I stalked him and everything’s going to go to shit.

I shrug. “I—”

“Well, come in. It’s a bit cold out there,” he interrupts, gesturing me inside.

His dorm is nice, decorated somewhat simply. There’s a bulletin board with pictures of him and his friends, a trophy shaped like a horseshoe, and an old stethoscope. There are also ferns. Everywhere.

One corner of Fern’s mouth ticks up, and he gestures for me to sit on the couch. I oblige.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again,” he says.

“I wasn’t either,” I admit. “But—please don’t be upset. If this makes you uncomfortable, I promise I’ll leave and never bother you again, just please don’t tell my job. I wanted to check on you and make sure you got home okay.”

Fern’s smile widens, his face flushing a vibrant peach, the color beautiful against the constellation of freckles that sparkle across his cheeks and nose.

I want to count every one with my fingertips before I kiss every inch of his body. Blinking, I center myself back in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” I blurt out. “I’ve meant to say and do a lot of things to you—” I stop myself, realizing that sounds much more sexual than I intended. “I meant….”

“No, I get it. Every time I see you, I think about asking for your number, but chicken out. I know this isn’t the most romantic situation,” he says, gesturing to the newest rendition of The Grinch playing on his TV. “But I’d love to take you out sometime. What do you say?”

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. I mean, of course I was hoping that he felt the same as I, but I wasn’t sure. Warmth fills me, my heart thumping at a quick pace. “I’d like that.”

He gets out his phone and hands it to me, and I type in my number, texting myself a fern emoji.

We both stand, and he trots towards the door, the tan browns of his coat contrasting beautifully with the paleness of his skin. He looks otherworldly, and I want to kiss him. We’re standing far too close, his chest nearly touching mine. Fuck it.

“I’m going to kiss you,” I say and lean into him.

Our lips collide, and it feels like the weight of the world was just taken off my shoulders. His scent is intoxicating, all woodsy pines, and his fingers grip the sides of my jaw as he deepens the kiss.

Fern releases me, his lips still grazing mine. “Are you off tomorrow?” he asks, voice low and full of unsaid thoughts.

“I am,” I whisper and kiss him again, this time softer.

“Then I’m taking you out tomorrow,” he says and turns. “See you later, Oak.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.