Lich Boyfriend: Onjondad (special preview)

Onjon comes out of his house and thunder growls. It starts to rain as he approaches you. It’s light at first but by the time Onjon reaches you, it’s pouring down rain.

“Here! Oh no!” You grab hold of his hand. “You’re getting soaked!”

“So are you.” Onjon scoops you up in his arms rather than helping brace you to stand. He then carries you inside and he stands dripping in the doorway. “So sorry,” he huffs. “Injured and soaked in rain.”

“It’s ok,” y.” You gasp. Lightning flashes outside and your arms tighten around his neck out of fear. “Could have been worse.” 

Onjon carries you into a room where the walls are lined with shelves crammed tight with books. There’s a piano and a desk, as well as a brick fireplace that’s lit. Onjon sets you down on a ragged old sofa.

“I’ll go get you one of my robes to change into,” Onjon sighs. “I’ll come back and check your ankle.” He places an ottoman under your feet and he whisks off towards the back.

You sigh and sink back into the sofa, feeling chilled and achy. This is your first time being in Onjon’s home, but honestly, it’s pretty much exactly like you pictured. Cluttered, a bit dusty, but comfortable and warm. You reach out to pick up a pillow and it yowls at you.

You nearly scream as the pillow stretches out, revealing itself to be a cat with huge bug eyes and an underbite.

“You have a cat?” yYou blurt as Onjon comes back into the room.

Onjon looks at the old cat. “Is that what that is?” He then smiles at you and hands you the robe. “Do you need help changing?” hHe asks.

“I can just put the robe on,” you reply.

“You’ll get cold!” Onjon gasps. “Your clothes are soaked through, it can’t be comfortable.”

Your cheeks burn. You can’t imagine being basically naked in Onjon’s home, it’s too much. “It’s ok! Really,” you giggle. You then flinch as lightning lights up the study and thunder crashes behind it. You suck in a petrified breath as your fists curl into the robe in your hands.

“Are you alright?” Onjon asks.

“Yeah,” you fib. “No worries.” You slip the robe on around your wet clothes as Onjon kneels down by the ottoman to check your ankle.

His long, delicate fingers gently knead into your sore ankle and he rubs in a balm before wrapping it. “That should hold for now.” He looks up at you and smiles. “Did you only bring your bike today?”