The shade of werewolf

15

  "You're an idiot." Ben says with a grin on his face. I roll my eyes and push myself up on the counter.

"You're an idiot. You made the mess." I grumble, watching Ben dig around in a drawer for the tweezers.

"but I was smart enough to wear shoes after glass had been broken." He says with mockery in his tone.

"Just, shut up and get the glass out of my hand." I roll my eyes. Suddenly I feel guilty and add a "please?". Ben holds up a set of black tweezers and grins.

"Yes ma'am." He agrees, "I." He groans, concentrating with a scrunches face. I roll my eyes.

"Okay, it's starting to burn again!" I whimper when he starts picking at the glass in my hand.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" He grunts, trying to find the glass. The open cut and glass in my hand burns, but to add to it there's pickle juice on the glass, making it feel like my hand is on fire.

"I'm left handed and I can't even hold a pencil in my other hand." I roll my eyes. "You're my only hope."

"How does you're grandDaddy feel about you being left handed?" He chuckles. I knot my eyebrows at his question.

"What do you mean?" I ask, half laughing at his lame comment. I flinch when he accidentally stabs me.

"I mean, back in his prime, left handed people were the spawns of satan." He shrugs, looking up at me.

"Does Calvin believe in that?" I half laugh, at the irrational thought. Ben shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't know. You'll have to ask him yourself. Calvin isn't exactly the story teller type." He shrugs.

"He tells me things all the time." I knot my eyebrows.

"There are a lot of things he refuses to tell anyone about his past." Ben says, "got it!" He exclaims, tossing the shard of glass into the trash. I suck on my bloody hand and knot my eyebrows.

"Like what?" I ask, curious. Ben seems to know a lot about Calvin. Specifically why he's not an open book.

"I don't know." Ben shrugs, "that's something you have to ask Calvin yourself."

"Ask me what?" I stiffen like we've just been caught sleeping with each other. Getting caught doing anything- like talking about someone- is such a anxiety riser for me.

Calvin is standing in the kitchen, his body is covered in a thin layer of sweat and his eyes run over me, making sure I'm as healthy as when he had left. "Why's your hand bleeding?" He knots his eyebrows, rushing over to me.

Hello to you, too. "It's fine, I just cut it on some glass." I shrug, pulling my hand to my chest.  I go silent when he jerks my hand into his to inspect the wound.

"glass?" He asks, looking to into my eyes and then towards Ben. "You promised me you wouldn't let her get hurt." Calvin let's out a protective growl and I instantly put a hand on his shoulder to make him look at me.

"He didn't do it, it was a complete accident. I dropped the pickle jar and was cleaning it up and I accidentally cut my hand. Don't punish him for an honest mistake. He was helping me get it out." I explain, and try to not sound like I'm lying.