Bedmates,

“Potatoes,” swore Tommy. He was standing next to the little dragon that guarded the garden, his face scowling. His blue eyes were focused on the sky.

I lay down the twig I had been using when sparring with him earlier and stood next to him, trying to see what he had noticed.

He said we were bedmates. My word was Lovers. The difference in words was significant to me for one important reason. It was said that a curse had been cast on the family a long time ago, that if anyone caused a fiasco, there would be an attack by a Gargoyle. And the term Lovers, I felt, would cause less trouble.

Something shadowed us, and we both looked up. Bat-like great wings, and an ugly faced creature swooped low.

“GET DOWN,” Tommy yelled, pulling me to the ground. My hands dug into the garden where I landed, crushing my Mother’s crysanthemums.

The creature missed, but I could hear its wings beating the air. Gasping, I felt wind against my face as it came for us again. My blonde locks fell across my eyes.

Suddenly, it squealed. I realised then, that I had closed my eyes. Opening them again, and blinking the hair away, I was surprised to see a little dragon in the sky, as the bat-like creature disappeared towards the horizon.

The little dragon landed in the garden and became a statue, right where the garden ornament had been.

Tommy reached out his hand and helped me up. It was then I noticed a black and white photo in his other hand.

“What’s that?” I asked him.

Grinning, he handed it to me. There, staring out at me, was the little dragon, identical to the one now innocently sitting in the garden.

“See. I said we could use whatever words we liked to describe our relationship.”

My eyes met his.

“This is a photo of the garden when my Grandfather was alive. He told me a family legend that *our* family is protected from evil by this little dragon.

Hugging him, my eyes pricked with tears.

He hugged me back, tightly, and I realised he’d been scared by the Gargoyle attack too.

“Maybe I can call us Lovers instead of Bedmates,” he murmured into my hair.
“That was close. And I don’t want to risk losing you again.”

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