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He rested in a pile of hay behind the house, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his skin. Sometimes it was so odd to think that he was alive. Made of death, but living. It was times in the warm sun, with his eyes closed, and he realized how he could appreciate the life he was given, under the right circumstances. And these were the right circumstances.
The front door opened, and he heard your soft footsteps walking around the house. You were probably looking for him. But he was so comfortable, he didn’t want to move.
“Mr. Frankenstein?” You called, looking around. You’d just made tea and some fresh bread, and you wanted him to drink it while it was hot.
He heard you call, but he just couldn’t bring himself to move any part of his body, not even to open his eyes. His body was just too relaxed, and he wasn’t willing to lose this feeling just to reply to you.
You spotted him in the hay, one arm behind his head, the other stretched out, a lazy smile on his face. You instantly hushed, never seeing him look so at peace. Walking over, you watched the even rise and fall of his chest. You figured he must have fallen asleep after morning chores.
Getting closer, you looked at his face. His appearance was kind of scary, but it seemed a bit more normal when he wasn’t moving. And his smile. He so rarely smiled. You weren’t sure what happened to him to make him look the way he did, but whatever it was, it had obviously turned him into a sullen and quiet man.
His smile was nice. You wondered what he was dreaming about to make him smile like that.
Meanwhile, the awake monster listened to your footsteps grow closer, and your soft breathing. You were the circumstances that made life worth living, even if he was just your farm hand. The human kindness you’d shown him was the only he had ever felt in his entire life, and it was as warm as lying under the sun.
The hay shifted, and it took everything he had not to open up his eyes to confirm what he thought was happening. He felt the hay shift as you laid down beside him, felt the tickling of your hair on his fingers as you rested your head on his outstretched hand. He tried to keep his breathing normal, though his heart began racing. No other part of your body was touching him but your delicate head in his large hand.
Didn’t you know how dangerous that was? He had all the strength of ten men, if he wanted to he could crush your head in his hand like it was nothing. Didn’t you have eyes to see how disgusting he was? And yet you’d have him cup your cheek in his hand like a lover?
He wanted to open his eyes, but he knew if he shifted, you’d pull away from him.
You rested your head in his palm, admiring the size of his hand. You glanced up at his face, noticing that the easy smile had left his lips. Oh no, maybe you’d disturbed his nap? Should you get up? You didn’t really want him to catch you like this. You should probably get up.
On the other hand, the sun was so warm, the hay so comfortable. His hand was surprisingly soft, considering the farm work he did every day. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. Maybe a cat nap wouldn’t hurt? You could reheat the tea later. And you would hopefully wake up before he did and move away before he ever realized that you’d slept beside him.
The monster listened as your breathing slowed and evened out, and only after your breathes had stayed low and even for several minutes did he come to the conclusion that you’d fallen asleep. He lifted his head and looked at you, at the sight of your skin glinting in the sun as you used his hand as a pillow. You were beautiful.
He grazed his thumb over your cheek, resting his head back on the hay. He’d stay here until you woke up, and enjoy the feeling of you on his palm.