Aurora, Chapter 03 "Hot Chocolate and Melting Snow" (P-M1g1, H-N) An (eventually) erotic story by Katryna Last updated 12/17/06 This adult story is (C) by Katryna. It may be redistributed subject to a few provisions but may not be sold or otherwise used for profit and must have this heading attached. Please read my legal notice as downloading, redistributing, or reading this story signifies your agreement to the terms and conditions outlined within it. Joe pulled the door to behind him, giving Aurora some privacy as she dried herself. He glanced around the bedroom momentarily. The master bedroom was the second largest room in the cabin, and one of the least irregularly shaped. The door to the bathroom occupied one corner, just past where the chimney, bare brick on two sides, passed through the room. Beyond that lay the main entrance to the bedroom and the folding door to the bedroom's walk-in closet. To the left, as viewed from the door, was the full-size bed and one of the cabin's plethora of bookcases. Two more bookcases stood along the left hand wall, between the bed and the far wall; the second nestled into the corner, next to the desk. The desk itself held two monitors, a CRT at its center and a flat panel to the left of the first monitor. Three computer towers, of various degrees of modernity, sat under the desk, with two more atop it. The satellite modem's green LEDs were blinking, indicating that the storm was disrupting the signal but hadn't damaged the physical transmitter. Regardless, he flicked the large toggle switch on the small, clearly jury-rigged control panel next to it. He heard, dimly, the whirring of the bargain-bin electric motors as they retracted the satellite dish into the dome-like weather shield he'd constructed for it. There were a couple of shirts hanging off the sides of the bed, but neither of them were particularly long, and both of them he'd worn two days in a row before leaving them on the bed. These clearly wouldn't do. Joe passed the desk and opened the closet's folding door, then began to wade toward the dresser at the back of the closet, through the sea of boxes, binders, unshelved books and miscellaneous junk that blanketed most of the closet floor. He had a fair number of clothes he'd accumulated over the years, some of which he hadn't worn since high school, hanging in a deceptive semblance of order on the rails on either side of the closet. His sweaters, overshirts, and other winter clothes were nearest the front, but few of them would be long enough to cover her, and besides, the cabin was warm enough that they really weren't needed. He made a mental note to turn the thermostat up a bit, then continued looking. Two-thirds of the way to the back he found a suitable t-shirt, a black one with an obscure band logo emblazoned on the back and breast. It had hung down below his waist when he was a Sophomore; it should suit her just fine. He tugged at it, then tugged again harder, and finally, on the third tug, the damn hanger released the damn shirt. He clenched it in one hand, turned, and began to make his way back to the door. Joe paused when he was halfway there, however, blinked then sighed and smacked his forehead. He turned to his left and pulled his worn blue terry bathrobe, hanger and all, from the rail, then disentangled the hanger from the robe and returned the former to the rail. He pondered for a moment, then shook his head. There was no way in hell any of his adult-size underwear would even come close to fitting her, and he hadn't retained much in the way of either exes' lingerie or underpants from his own childhood. Best to skip it. He staggered to the closet door then stepped through into the bedroom. He crossed the room and, finding that the door to the bathroom was still pulled to, he slowly, cautiously pushed it open. "Aurora?" "Yeah, I'm here." "I found a shirt that should work. And you can use my bathrobe too if you like. "Wow...thanks," She exclaimed happily from the other room. "All right if I come in, or...?" "Um...sure, go ahead. I'm decent enough, heh..." She responded with a slight giggle. He pushed the door open and walked through, slowly. Aurora was standing beside the tub with the towel wrapped around her torso, covering from just about the beginning of her breasts to halfway down her thighs. Joe was mildly disappointed, but he forcefully reminded himself that he'd seen more than enough of her already. He held out the tshirt to her, and she reached forward and took it. She shook it out, glanced down at it, then giggled. "What's so funny?" He asked. She looked up, a bit startled and definitely tense, but his expression was one of affectionate puzzlement, not annoyance, and she relaxed visibly. "Oh, nothing...just, I know this group." "Yeah?" "Yeah. My dad loved them." "Gah, now that makes me feel old..." He grumbled, then shrugged. "Uh, I guess I'll give you some space to get dressed," He stammered, turning to leave. "I'll be right out, then," She replied. He glanced at her, having half-registered an almost vestigial trace of disappointment in her tone. He wondered about it, but merely smiled weakly and nodded. "All right. Tell you what, I'll throw as many of your clothes into the dryer as can go in one, and I'll get some hot cocoa going. Sound good?" She paused for a moment, blinked, smiled. "Very. Thanks again," She responded, obviously surprised. He was beginning to get the impression that generosity was something with which she wasn't very well acquainted. His brow furrowed slightly, but he forced his expression to remain more or less neutral. Maybe he'd ask later, if she didn't bring it up first. He hoped she hadn't noticed his hesitation; it would be far too easy to misinterpret. He studied her expression for a split second on his way out the door. She seemed a little confused and unsure, but not upset. He put the matter out of his mind and exited through the door into the master bedroom, pausing a moment to part the curtains of one of the two windows above the bed and glance outside. The snow was coming down heavily and at a pronounced angle; the blizzard was still going strong. He shook his head and turned, closing the curtains, then walked past the chimney and opened the door that stood between it and the hall closet. He stepped out into the longer "leg" of the inverted L-shape of the second story hallway, pulling the door shut behind him.. The stairs were about five feet ahead, and he noted with some amusement that he had basically "come full circle" in the process of helping the girl. He rounded the corner and headed downstairs, almost sliding from step to step, and reached the bottom in about eight seconds. He'd been practicing this, unintentionally, for years, on the stairs of his parents house, his schools, the apartment building he'd moved out into, and the cabin he'd inherited. Joe slid off the last step onto the wooden floor and headed into the living room, glancing at the bookcases lining two of its walls as he did so. His legs and side were beginning to ache from having been pushed so hard earlier, but he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the pain; this, too, he'd been practicing unintentionally for years. He knelt, teeth clenched, beside the fireplace and grasped the still-damp pile of her clothing, wadding it together a bit with his hands, then rose to his feet. He turned and walked out of the living room, passed the stairs and then the dining table at the near end of the combined kitchen-dining room, then through the kitchen itself. He passed the more or less continuous mass of counter and appliances along the kitchen wall on his left, glancing at them as he did so. The dishwasher was installed under the end of the counter nearest the table, with two small cabinets separating it from the cabinet beneath the sink. His toaster oven was located above the dishwasher, with the microwave to the right of it. The stove was directly adjacent to the sink, and the refrigerator was sandwiched between the stove and the wall next to the laundry room door, which he now stood in front of. He fumbled with the door to the laundry room and made, for the umpteenth time, a mental note to either fix or replace the damn knob. Finally, he managed to open the door. He reached in and flicked the light switch on, then walked past the yawning aperture of the basement stairs and into the small, cramped space that the washer and dryer shared with a set of metal shelves full of tools and assorted junk (this and bookcases, he thought with a slight chuckle, were the predominant decoration themes in the cabin), then pulled the door to rather than closing it. The last damn thing he or Aurora needed was for him to be stuck in there with her clothes. Joe set the damp bundle on top of the dryer and began to sort through it. Her socks, jeans, turtleneck, and panties were, according to the tags, fine for the washer and dryer both. The sweater he'd have to be more careful with, but she needed it less urgently, at least inside the cabin. He opened the washer tossed the clothes in one by one, taking the sweater and looking around for something to hang it from. The small room didn't give him many options; there were few objects from which a sweater could be readily hung, and none of them were even vaguely clean. He finally gave up on finding something for it and grabbed a hammer and a largeish, clean-looking nail from the shelves. He lined the nail up with one of the unfinished wall boards of the room, then gave it one good, hard pound, driving the nail about halfway in. He figured that it would do, and so he hung her sweater carefully from the nail. Once he'd dealt with the sweater, he turned and poured a small amount of laundry detergent into the washer with the clothes, set the wash/rinse cycle to cold/cold just in case, and started the washer. The faint sound of a miniature waterfall emanated from the machine as it began to fill. Five seconds later he remembered to switch the cycle knob off "regular" and onto "permanent press," again, just in case. Joe turned and started to walk out of the laundry room, then stopped and smacked his forehead again with a sigh. Why had he put her clothes in the washer? They were already soaking wet and needed drying. "Force of habit?" He wondered aloud as he opened the washer again. He saw, of course, that they were now floating in cloudy water covered with soap suds. "Well, they need a wash *now*," He muttered, shaking his head and sighing again. He opened the door again, turned the light off, and walked out of the laundry room, pulling it to once more. The cocoa he'd promised her sounded pretty delightful to him as well. He just hoped he wasn't out. Joe turned to the row of four cabinets along the inner wall of the kitchen, parallel to the laundry room door, opened the second from the right, and was relieved to see that there were still two containers of cocoa and plenty of sugar among the assorted canned and boxed goods that filled the nearest cupboard. The contents of the one to its right included vanilla extract and marshmallows. Perfect. He mentally worked out the proportions for a double batch of cocoa, then pulled out a saucepan from one of the cupboards on the opposite wall, set it on the stove, and began to measure and mix sugar and cocoa powder with an amount of water that seemed an order of magnitude to little to properly suspend the mixture, yet managed to. When he was finished, he switched the burner on and began to boil the gooey mixture at the bottom of the saucepan. He stirred for a few minutes before he heard a muffled grunt and scraping noise of her forcing the bathroom door open. A moment later he heard soft footsteps on the stairs behind him, then the boards of the cabin floor. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled as he mixed the now-bubbling chocolaty ooze at the bottom of the saucepan. Aurora rounded the corner a second later and returned his smile. He looked her over for a moment before catching himself. The t-shirt hung loosely on her small frame, the hem hanging down to about four inches above her knees. Her arms were thrust into the sleeves of the bathrobe, which were continually falling down over her hands despite her hiking them up. The robe itself was open, the tie hanging loosely. She seemed to have blotted her hair a bit, but it was still quite damp, and he imagined that a sizable damp spot was forming on her robe. He deliberately ignored the obvious double-entendre formed from the extension of that thought, mentally kicking himself yet again. She walked into the kitchen and moved next to him, resting her elbows on the counter. "Hi," She said, smiling slightly. "Hi," He responded. "Feeling better?" "Much..." "If you want a towel to wrap around your hair or something..." "Nah, I'm fine." "You sure?" "I already sorta dried it. It's just getting the robe wet, don't worry. And I left the door open, so it won't get all steamy in there." He shrugged and continued stirring. "All right. Um, Aurora, could you go to the refrigerator and hand me the milk? There's one jug open I think." "Sure," She said, moving around behind and past him. She fumbled with the latch a bit before she finally managed to get the refrigerator door open, then looked around a bit inside it. She smiled, then giggled. "What?" He asked, glancing over a her, smiling quizzically. "You think you got enough pomegranates?" She asked, still giggling a bit. She shook her head slightly and reached up on the highest shelf of the refrigerator, looked closer at something, and after a moment pulled a gallon jug of milk, roughly half-full, from the fridge. She set it on the counter next to him. "Here ya go." "Thanks," He replied as he reached up to one of the wall cabinets above the sink and opened it. He felt around for a few seconds, his attention focused on the chocolate mix he was stirring, and finally pulled down a glass cup measure. He set it on the counter, then paused his stirring to turn down the stove. He unscrewed the cap of the jug and lifted it, measuring out a cup, then poured it into the pan with the chocolate. He stirred for a moment, then started to measure another cup. Aurora's borrowed clothing rustled slightly as she moved to stand beside him, grasping the spoon and working to imitate the rate and force with which he'd been stirring the cocoa. Joe smiled as he poured the second cup of milk in, then another. After about a minute and a half he'd finished adding all the milk he was using in placing of the water that the recipe called for, and related this to her with a chuckle as he replaced the cap on the milk jug. She was incredulous. "Who'd make cocoa with water?" She asked, making a face, then giggled. He shrugged and shook his head, pulling open a drawer and fishing out a set of measuring spoons. He unscrewed the cap of the vanilla extract bottle, and poured two measured tablespoons into the pot. She cocked her head. "Isn't that too much?" "It's actually better this way," He responded, then set the spoons in the cup measure and the cup measure in the sink, for future processing. He smiled. "Trust me." "Okay..." She replied dubiously, then shrugged, still stirring the mixture. He smiled. "Want me to take over?" "Nah, I'm good," She responded. "All right," He replied, glancing down at his watch. 02:27. He looked at the cocoa for a moment, then glanced at her. "Uh, it might be done now...wanna taste-test it?" "Sure," She said, smiling, then, hesitating a little, she dipped the tip of her slender index finger into the cocoa. She looked quizzical, then slipped her finger deeper, up to the second knuckle, and smiled. "It's warm...could use another minute though," She commented, pulling her finger out of the cocoa. She raised it to her lips and wrapped them around it, sucking the cocoa from her finger with a smacking sound. "Nice and creamy," She added with a grin. Joe swallowed and smiled back. He stirred the cocoa for another minute, then turned off the heat and moved the pan to a cool burner. He reached up and reopened the cabinet above the sink, pulling out two mugs at random. He set them down on the counter, and they both glanced at them. She giggled, and he saw that he'd pulled out the blue cup with his Alma Mater logo in gold and the cup his cousin Daphne had picked up for him at an engineering convention several years ago, with a company name and logo displayed on one side and, in large print, "dependable, top-grade petroleum additives" on the other. Daphne had predicted, quite correctly, that he would be amused by the irony, though he suspected her intent included a quasi-subtle crack at his coffee preferences as well. He laughed as well, and shrugged. "Which cup do you want?" She shrugged as well. He smiled and grasped the handle of the Alma Mater cup, lifting it over the pot, then fished a ladle out of one of the drawers in the counter and used it to fill the cup with cocoa. He reached up and grabbed a paper towel, using it to wipe up the inevitable dribbles of cocoa on the side of the cup, then handed it to her. He gestured, indicating the bag of marshmallows on the counter. "Take as many as you want." "Thanks," She said, and picked up two small handfuls of marshmallows, dropping then carefully into the cocoa. He chuckled and shook his head slightly. "Greedy little thing, ain'tcha?" He commented, with a grin. She stuck her tongue out and they both laughed. He fished a spoon out of one of the drawers and handed it to her, and she began to stir the marshmallows into her cocoa, watching in fascination as they melted, while Joe filled his own cup and took a more modest number of marshmallows. He took a spoon and stirred his cup. "So...whatcha wanna do?" She shrugged. "I dunno. That bit about the fire sounded good..." She cocked her head slightly. "Sitting in front of it, you mean?" "Yeah." "Sure," He said, and smiled, heading back through the kitchen towards the living room, slowly and carefully to avoid spilling cocoa. She followed, a few steps behind, with similar caution. They reached the living room, and he noted that the fire, while it had burned rather low, was still going. He glanced at their boots, sitting unattended in small puddles on the pine floor. He shook his head and walked to the far end of the sofa, setting his mug down on the end table next to it. He turned, reached down, and scooped up their boots, grabbing his with one hand and hers with the other, then carried them to the entranceway and set them down on the stone floor of the entryway, then vanished into the kitchen for about five seconds before returning with some paper towels. Aurora was sitting on the near end of the couch, cocoa in hand. As she saw the paper towels, she set it down and started to get up. "Sorry," She said, blushing a little and glancing at the puddles left on the floor by their boots and her clothing. "I can help clean those up..." "Nah, it's ok. This'll only take a second," He replied as he dropped a few paper towels onto each puddle to blot them up. He set the roll on end on the floor, and sat down on the couch, then reached over, grasped his cocoa mug, and took a sip, savoring the taste. "So...what brings you out here, anyway?" "Eh...just...you know. Got bored at home, went exploring. It's beautiful out here in the woods, especially in the Winter...it's so peaceful and...pure, I guess." "Yeah, I know what you mean. Isn't it a little late for you to be running around out here, though?" "Aunt Kara doesn't really notice," She confided. "I sneak out a lot. It's so boring around the house." "How come?" "Cause, Aunt Kara's always busy with her boyfriends or something for church or...well, you know...and we don't get good channels up here. And the internet conenction's, like, a crappy dialup and my computer's, like, ancient..." She continued, ending in a shrug. "Read all the books we have lying around. Gotta do something..." He nodded his agreement. "So, you live with your Aunt?" He asked, cocking his head. "Yeah..." She said, swallowing inconspicuously. "How come?" Half a second later he regretted the question; she seemed, he realized, distinctly uncomfortable on this topic. He didn't want to make her nervous or ashamed... "My mom and dad...they...we got in a car accident..." She said, trailing off. "Oh...I'm...I'm sorry," He said, looking at her, the floor, then her again. She nodded and whimpered softly. He extended an arm slightly, and after a moment she scooted over next to him, nestling against his side as he wrapped his around around her shoulders. "'Bout...'bout three and a half years ago," She continued. "I think the other guy was drinking but I'm not sure..." He hugged her tighter and sighed, shuddering slightly as he thought back to the accident that had taken his father from him nineteen years ago. "Let's change the subject," He suggested, and she nodded, smiling weakly. "So, what's the deal with your Aunt?" "She's the only grown-up relative who isn't in another state," Aurora explained. "She...I dunno. She's decent enough but I don't think she knows what to do with a kid..." He nodded. "That describes most of my relatives too," He said. "What about you?" She asked. "I dunno..." He responded, and shrugged. "I think you'd do all right with a kid," She said, then pondered for a minute. "Um, do you have any...?" "Nah; I live here alone..." "Well I figured that much, but, I dunno, if you were, like, divorced or something..." She shrugged. "I am, but we didn't have any kids. I haven't heard from her for...like four years now." "Oh...I'm sorry," She said, wincing slightly. "Let's change the subject. Um, how old are you, anyway?" She asked, cocking her head. "29. You?" "Wow. Um, I'll be 13 in March." She grinned sheepishly. "Makes me feel like a kid," She said, and giggled. "Can't imagine why," He replied, grinning, eliciting more giggles from her. He felt nice and warm inside, hearing her laugh, so young and innocent and alive. Most definitely alive. She sipped her cocoa, and he followed suit. After a moment, he paused. "Oh...by the way, I, um, kinda threw your clothes in the washer by accident..." He said, sheepishly, and as if adding insult to injury, the washer began to spin audibly roughly three seconds later. "Huh?" "Your clothes. I was gonna dry them, but I dumped them in the washer without thinking about it. Which means they probably won't be ready for at least another hour..." He said, smiling apologetically. She shrugged. "S'ok. I'm all right." "The robe and shirt are all right?" "Yeah, they're comfortable enough, it's just..." She trailed off, blushing. "It's kinda weird, you know..." "Hmm?" He had a good idea of where she was heading with this line of thought but didn't want to risk jumping to conclusions and spooking her. "Being...not having...underwear, you know..." "Ah. You're not cold or anything, though?" "Not cold...a little coolish but it's not bad. It's just, um, kinda weird, feeling nothing but air on...you know...down..." She stammered, blushing deeper. "Your butt, you mean?" He asked, suspecting otherwise but letting her bring it up. He wasn't sure whether she was comfortable talking about it, especially with a guy she just met, "Well yeah, that and...my...cootchie..." She said, turning bright red and smiling sort of apologetically. "Sorry," She said after a moment. "Sorry for what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aunt Kara says its not good to talk about it...that it, you know, bothers people..." She said. "Doesn't bother me," He responded, and shrugged, smiling. The smile graded into earnestness. "You can talk to me about whatever you want, Aurora. Really." "Really?" "Cross my heart." "Hope to die?" He nodded and smiled. "Wow...that's...pretty cool actually," She said, and smiled. "But yeah...it's...sorta weird..." The blush was slowly creeping back over her face. "Makes me feel...um, kinda free and kind of exposed at the same time..." "If it's uncomfortable for you I could try to find something..." He began. "Nah, it's ok. Um...it's...kinda cool actually..." She blushed deep and shrugged apologetically. "Is that...weird?" He smiled and shrugged. "It's nothing to be embarassed about," he replied, shivering slightly. She cocked her head a bit, then shrugged. "I guess not..." "So you live in town, right?" "Yeah. One of the smaller houses. It's a few miles from here..." She sipped her cocoa; both of them were down to half mugs. She smiled at him and took another sip. He nodded. "Pets or anything?" "I wish," She said with a sigh. "I'd love a nice big shaggy doggy or something..." She smiled wistfully, and he hugged her again. "Aunt Kara won't let me get one though. Says they scare her, they're too noisy, they're too much trouble to clean up after and care for, and she won't believe that I'd really do it." "Why not?" He asked, cocking his head, genuinely surprised. He certainly had no doubts about her competence or integrity. "'Cause when I was little I wasn't always good about chores and stuff," Aurora replied. "And I guess she can't..." "...get her mind around the fact that you're not little any more?" "Exactly!" "Blech. I always hated that." "You got that too?" "Why do you think I moved up here?" He asked, and they both laughed. They were silent for a moment, drinking their cocoa down. After about thirty seconds, Aurora set her mug down. "So whyyyyaahddhhmmm" She began, interrupted by a prolonged yawn. She gave up on trying to say anything and waited for the yawn to pass. "Ah, geez," She said at last. "What time is it?" He checked his watch. "Almost oh-three-hundred," He said. She blinked, looking at him half-comprehendingly. "Three AM," He corrected himself. "Holy sh...err...wow..." She caught herself, blushing a bit. "That late?" "Yeah. And I told you not to worry about what you say." "Heh, all fucking right, that's absofuckinglutely goddamn bitchin'" She chirped, breaking into a fit of giggles. He rolled his eyes and lightly swatted the edge of her butt, where it was tilted up off the sofa cushion slightly, drawing a squeak and further giggling from her. "Pottymouth," He said with a grin. She stuck her tongue out again and they laughed. "Well...it's late...I probably oughta finish this up and then get ho--" She paused. "Um, it's still snowing, isn't it?" "Most likely," He responded. "At the very least getting through the snow to a decent road, even in my Jeep, is gonna be a bitch and a half. And don't even think about trying to hoof it; I didn't drag you out of the river and all the way here just to let you go off and freeze to death anyway." She nodded agreement. "I...did I...remember to thank you for that?" She asked, cocking her head and smiling warmly. He nodded. "Oh. Well, thanks again..." She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him and inadvertently pressing her fledgling breasts against him. He tried to ignore it and hugged her back. "Yeah. Um, you're more than welcome to stay here tonight, you know..." He said, and shrugged, as she took a long sip of cocoa. "Though I guess you don't have much of a choice." She smiled. "I'd like that," She said softly, and smiled, warmly and, he thought, a little nervously. He was a bit puzzled, but mentally shrugged. "Well, let's finish the cocoa first," He said, and she nodded agreement, bringing the mug to her lips and sucking the last bits of creamy cocoa from it. He followed suit, draining his about two seconds later, then held out his hand. "Here, I'll take care of these. And I'll put the rest of the cocoa in the fridge; we can just microwave it tomorrow." "Ok," She said, and smiled. He grasped both mug handles in one hand, bending over and reaching down with the other to pick up the paper towels he'd left on the floor. As he stood back up, he half thought her eyes suddenly darted guiltily away from him, but he wasn't sure. He said nothing, again shrugging mentally, and walked into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet under the sink and dumped the soggy paper towels into the trash, then set the mugs in the sink. After pulling a round plastic container from the cabinet next to the one he'd taken the mugs out of, he lifted the pan and carefully tipped it, pouring the rest of the cocoa into the container. He set the pan in the sink and put a lid on the container, then set it in the fridge, one rack up from the pomegranate-crowded bottom shelf. Joe closed the refrigerator door, turned, and walked back into the living room. Aurora smiled, and he returned it. "Now, let's see about finding you a place to sleep." Previous Chapter *** Next Chapter