The Waitress and the Wolf (Book 1 of The Guardian series)

Chapter 18. Questions

Man, I had such a strange day.

I was in a supppperrrr weird mood today. Like super edgy and I didn't want anyone to talk to me and I didn't want to talk to anyone and I was such an oddly sad little chicken nugget.. Ever feel like that?

Unknown POV

It was a strange thing, love. It had four letters. Easy to pronounce. And yet, with such simplicity came such passion, complexity and want. I once thought I understood what that meant. But then, I met a five letter word, and my love had diverted itself into the very thing I wanted most. Power.

Some fully believe that power is, and will always be, an egregious thing -- that it will only allow for tyranny. They say that power gets to the mind, and one cannot control it once it infects the brain, and then the heart.

But what if someone could control it?

It's a rather odd question with an ambiguous answer. However, I have every intention of answering the question. Yet in order to do just that, I had to change myself, change myself from who I once was.

At first, it seemed easy, but I was very, very unwilling in the end. It was bitter-sweet. Something so simple for something so great. At one point I wasn't sure I could let go of who and what I was, but I did. How'd I do it, one might just ask?

I squashed love. His heart was a fragile glass figurine, taking the shape of a wolf with pointed legs and a sad tucked tail. I was the boot with spikes that brought my foot down with all my might. The glass broke, shattered even, into a thousand sad, depressed pieces.

Yet after this, the four letter word that held so much within it diminished from my soul, and flew away like a flock of birds that had been stuck in a cage. It had left me the minute I had allowed it to. I realized I was only half way done with answering the question.

It had come to my attention that someone, someone of great power and possibly even love, was slowly picking up those glass shards that would once cut anyone who dared to even hold them. This someone was completely unaware of what she was doing as she single handedly held a fraction of what was once a figurine. My figurine.

And then I wondered. Would she be the answer to my question?

Venus's POV

"I still can't believe you left me at the diner," Will slouched against my brown couch, crossing his arms. His posture reminded me of a child who would hold onto anger for only so long until you showed them love again.

It'd been a week since I'd seen Demetri, and boy was a part of me definitely glad. My burst of courage from the night I told him to 'buy a blow-up doll', was beyond me. I was a strong girl, I liked to think. But to tell someone like Demetri to buy such an obscene item? Parts of me revel in my finest moment of that night while another part of me repeatedly slaps her hand against my forehead asking me what the Hell I was thinking.

"I'd have done it in a heartbeat," Moira added with a shrug as she sipped on her beer.  Will cast her a glare that she couldn't be bothered with.

"I said I was sorry Will. At least I left you a note," I tried with a sympathetic smile. I'd totally thought Will had forgotten about the night I had left my shift to go on a date - of sorts - with Demetri. However apparently he hadn't and decided to make it known after he'd gotten some liquid courage in his veins.

"A note? I didn't even see it till the next morning. Haven't you heard what's going around lately?" He asked. Moira sighed and set her beer back on the small wood table at our feet. I frowned, remembering what my goth friend had told me.