Stubborn and the Mutt

his perspective

The snapping of fingers just inches from my face is what brings me back to reality. Andrew stands there, eyebrow arched and his head judged to the side.

"I've been talking for the past couple of minutes, saying that Matthew says he's in the garden. You've been deep in your thoughts lately.

"Sorry." I clear my throat, getting up after him and then adjusting my sweater. "Just have a lot on my mind, that's all."

He hums, growing just the slightest bit before he starts walking with me right by his tail. Not literally, of course. He turns his head just a bit to view me through his peripheral view. "You can speak to me, you know? I'm a great listener."

"That, you are." I mutter. There's just a slight chuckle that escapes me.

It's... weird. If I remember correctly, him and I were the best of friends. Things changed after the death of Malacai, but now, we're closer than ever before. We talk every day, more than I do with Matthew — to be fair, Matthew is a radio, I'm the listener — and we seem to gravitate towards each other at any give opportunity.

I can't say for sure what changed, but it feels... good. Right? I think so.

"How do you feel, though?" Andrew slows his steps, just enough to be walking side by side, right step first and then left.

"I feel fine—"

"I mean, after everything." We simultaneously glance at each other. "That coma was... something. Terrifying, I'll say, though I knew you'd pull through. And they still don't have much on how you even fell into one, for that matter. It's only been over a week, but you seem to have changed ever since you've awakened, and you seem to have more on your mind than I remember. Fair, we've been distant for a bit but I know you. I know you. So, really, how do you feel?"

Right. I remember Andrew being one observing, slightly invasive twin. Always seems to know what's going on before he even asks. Or maybe he's just been watching me, which gives me slight shivers.

"I'm fine." I sigh, adjusting open the back doors to the garden and let him pass through first. "I am. I'm just overthinking, I guess. If you must know, it's about everything. The title of being Alpha is weighing on my shoulders. My father wants me to find a—"

"Goddess Luna handles that, you know that."

"And yet, for some reason, I feel like it's my responsibility. It's not going to happen like it should." My hands run through my hair — I've got to cut it, it grows too long and I get way too lazy to trim it.

There's always something about Matthew. I'm not surprised we're heading out to fetch him, and something tells me it's because he's stalking his underage mate again. He happened to have made eye contact with her or something like such, and now can't seems to keep a good distance from her until the appropriate time.

I don't know who told him it was wise to be around her, close enough for her to suspect something about him before the right time.

"Just hope you mate isn't as young as Matthew's. Goddess Luna must have been bored when she bonded them as mates."

When a breeze rolls past us, moving my hair in my face, I raise my right hand and tug the strands towards the back of my head, just as I laugh at Andrew and his love-hate relationship with his brother. It's always the younger ones, I find, that have the most nonsense to say about their older siblings.

I would know.

There's a rather intriguing scent wavering about, I can't put my finger to it but I hum at it. Rich kids and expensive perfume or cologne brands. But who am I to complain, I like my products expensive, too.