Chapter Seven: Paint Job

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Paint Job

I stood motionless. The black hair on my body flowed against the wind. I carried my clothes in my mouth.

For the first time, I was able to wonder free. With no fear. No fear of anyone who would try to stop me.

Nothing could stop me now. Amia finally agreed to me. She agreed to go out with a monster. Which for me, was a first. I didn't date. Ever. I just never thought about it.

And like I said before, I didn't do slow. And for some reason I was willing to do just that for Amia. She seemed different. Interesting. Classy. And who thought that the classy girl would fall for the guy who just got out of jail?

I certainly didn't. No matter how crazy I was... I never thought about someone like her being interested in someone like me. But after all, I could literally have anybody.

All because ... being a wolf means power. A special one. And I just happened to have the power of control. Ya.

Bad ass.

I know.

I cringed against the tree that was covering me as I looked at Amia's house. I was watching her as I began to change back. Change back into the murderer. Jason in "human" form.

A sharp pain came from all sides. I felt like I was being molded into something that I wasn't. My spine was being crushed. I howled in pain as my legs stretched out. My paws were slowly turning into hands. And my claws were dissapearing into my fingers.

...

About an hour later I rested my scratched and bruised back against the bark of the tree. My inside were being torn the whole time when I change. No matter if I'm going back to my teenage self... or the true monster that hides underneath my skin.

It hurts like Hell.

In fact, that's an understatement.

I looked around, covering myself with my jacket. Luckily, Amia didn't hear me howl and came outside. She could have seen me.

And I couldn't let her see that. No way. I wouldnt let her ever see me that way.

I could feel myself healing. Faster and faster my wounds healed with every second that past by.

With a deep groan, I quickly took a stand behind the trees. The bushes acted like a curtain. It hid my body and my face.

I looked down at the ground, spying my dark grey tee underneath my torn jeans. I pulled my shirt over head and smoothed it out over my chest. Then, I reached down, pulling my boxers on with a swift move of my right hand. With my left, my jeans were on in a flash.

And without a mirror, I managed to have the perfect amount of my jeans sagging.

And with a simple smirk, I looked back up toward the window. The window of the upstairs bedroom. I found Amia's house by following her scent. I could never forget that scent.

Cherry and vanilla.

Delicious.

I slipped my feet inside my worn out Suppra's, running my finger along the crown on the heel. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to catch any leaves that hid between the strands.

Finally. I could catch a glimpse of where Amia lived. Her room, maybe.

If I was lucky.

...

I rested my head against the doorway, ready to pound on the surface of Amia's door. If she let me in, I would be able to come and go. When I pleased. Which, would probably be all the time. All I knew was that I really wanted to see her.

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