The rest of the school week went off without a hitch with only a few odd comments from fellow students and an occasional glare from Zachary's friends. Some kids actually asked if they could see my stitches and I was flummoxed at their request.

At one point my nemesis Elizabeth, the queen bee of our school, was caught talking smack about me to her friends, only to have Zola come down on her like a fiery angel from heaven. I was sad to say that I missed seeing the actual event because I had been spending my lunch hours sequestered in the library. Casimir and Sunita were there also, all in an attempt to help me catch up on all my schoolwork. Most of my teachers were very forgiving of my circumstances, especially after they found out that Mr. Burke had attacked me, but I still had a ton of work to finish. I half wondered if they were all being so nice because they were worried I would sue the school. The whole week I was excited because there was going to be a three-day weekend, so I had planned my birthday party for that Sunday and Monday.

Saturday morning had rolled around and I was out in the orchard, watching grandpa tend to the apple trees. He was placing bird feeders in the orchard to help with bug control and I would usually help except I still had my stitches. Instead, I was told to sit in the back of the truck and relax. I was taking a break from homework to doodle in my sketchbook, using my grandfather as inspiration, when I heard him curse loudly.

"What's wrong?" I called out, placing my sketchbook into my lap.

Grandpa climbed down from his ladder, grumbling as he did. "I might need Casimir's help after all."

I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw the spot of blood now forming on Grandpa's thumb, he must have whacked it with the hammer by mistake.

"I think he's still sleeping," I commented, glancing back over at the farmhouse. "He was up really late with Maayan last night."

The pair had run off to hang out in the forest claiming they were going to patrol the edges of the farm. From the look on Maayan's face, I somehow doubt that was all they were going to do, but I didn't want to press the issue. I was in between my usual rotation of dreams, stumbling to the bathroom when I heard Casimir return home at almost five in the morning.

I bet they were doing super secret Terra stuff, I thought wistfully.

"Can you go wake him for me?" Grandpa asked, pulling out a strange bottle of oil to drip on his finger. The blood vanished, as did his wound, leaving the pleasant scent of lemongrass in the air.

"Okay, if you want," I replied hesitantly. I carefully climbed out of the back of the truck, my grandfather giving me his hand so I could hop to the ground. I made my way back to the farmhouse, wiping my dirty boots on the mat outside our mudroom before heading inside. I slipped off my shoes, hanging my coat and scarf on the kitchen chair as I made my way through the kitchen and up the stairs to the loft above.

Casimir's room was on the second floor of the farmhouse, in the small, closed-off part of our loft area, located just above the bathroom. I stood outside his sliding door, primed to knock when I hesitated. Slowly I leaned in, listening through the door at the soft sounds of Casimir's snoring. I felt bad at the idea of waking him after he had just spent the whole night on guard duty. Another part of me was curious to see his sleeping face.

Just one look, then you knock, I thought.

I cracked open the sliding door, peering inside. Casimir was on his bed, sleeping in a position that seemed quite strange to me. He was on his back, his legs bent, one crossed over the other like he was relaxing in a chair and not horizontal in a bed. One arm was up, covering his eyes, the other lay delicately across his chest. He was also most definitely shirtless, wearing only a pair of pajama pants and a single necklace, which I had never seen before.

I knocked on the door, ready to jump back if he awoke. Casimir stirred, moving his legs but he did not awaken. I knocked again and he didn't move.

Without realizing what I was doing I crept forward, tiptoeing toward the sleeping warrior.

Don't startle him, Diana, that could be bad. "Casimir?" I whispered, softly at first, pausing in my approach. Still no response. "Casimir!"

I was amazed when my last shout didn't work. Watching him carefully, I weighed my options. I decided to just try being louder, calling his name in a stern tone of voice. A single arm moved but still, he remained asleep.

"Are you kidding me? How deeply do you sleep?" I said out loud, not so afraid of disturbing him as I walked closer. I was now at the edge of his bed, studying his face as he slept. Casimir's reddish-brown hair was still tied into a ponytail, his unusual bleach-blond bangs falling into his eyes. I was still studying him, amused that he appeared so calm and peaceful. It was rare to see him without his glasses, so I was enjoying this moment, glancing up and down as if to memorize his face.

Get a grip Diana, either wake him up or go get someone else to do it. Stop staring at him like a weirdo.

An abrupt snore, which was more of a snort came out of his mouth and I giggled. His eyes fluttered open and I stood very still, shocked that such a small sound woke him.

"Hey, Casimir..." I whispered, my brain rushing through excuses as to why I was in his room, standing over his bed. He rolled slightly to his side, blinking slowly at me. Casimir raised his arm out, reaching for me. Without prompting I mirrored his movement, my fingers touching his. I didn't even have a chance to wonder what I was doing, as Casimir's hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me down into the bed with him. A small 'eep' escaped my mouth as I fell onto him, an awkward jumble of elbows and hair. I threw back my head, attempting to get my hair out of my face as Casimir's other arm snaked down below me, wrapping itself around my waist.

"Casimir what are you-" I stopped short, realizing how close my face was to his. My heartbeat exploded as I took in his familiar scent. My brain couldn't seem to process the hormonal rush I was feeling as I pressed up against his body.

You should stop this, he's not awake, look at his face. I was wrestling with my choices. A deeper part of me didn't want to stop and that part was staring intently at his sleepy expression, afraid to breathe or even move for fear of waking him.

"Selene..."

"Selene?" I muttered, bitterly.