Bounds Of Love (BWWM) #Wattys2018

Chapter 1

I sit on my bed glancing at my room's black walls. The bed is large, with a thick light blue comforter draped across it. But it's simple, like the rest of my room; a basic four poster with a mattress a little too old to be comfortable.

My smell doesn't linger even as I sit here in some moronic mental funk. The sheets on the bed smell fresh, my scent having been scrubbed out of them during their wash the night before. Now instead of my scent the room stinks of pomegranates and whatever other fragrances are pumped into the wash powder. This combined with the minimal touches I've made to the room make it almost as if I never existed.

Now would be the perfect time to take out my phone and call someone – to give the classmates I'd had since I was four a farewell or something. Maybe even a quick message saying I'd miss them, I'd visit - anything to suggest that I was leaving indefinitely. But instead I sit and examine my walls, debating for the fifth time if I've packed everything I want.

On one wall is a feature of the woods nearby, where I shift during my morning run. It depicts a scene of utter tranquility, with lush trees shooting high into the skyline and fallen logs covered once again in life as the forest ground claims them. The scene stands out in stark contrast to the rest of the room, which is painted to the standard black our pack paints rooms. Black – a reminder of the night, where wolves are free to wander and praise under the moon.

The wall above my bed holds a poster of some local band I put up when I was thirteen and crushing on the lead drummer. Said drummer has a crazy amount of hearts scribbled in sharpie around his head, like I'd attempted to make a crown of adoration. The left corner of the poster is drooping, the blu-tack that held it in place long gone.

I debate whether or not I should leave the poster there for some weak tribute to the last seventeen years I'd spent in this room, failing to truly leave my mark, or take it with me. But one glance at the standard pink suitcase I'd gotten when I was ten - and convinced I'd only travel the world with my Barbie suitcase's aid - has me deciding against it. I don't need to create any further embarrassment by coming off as some prepubescent fan-girl.

My suitcase is light in my hands as I drag it to the bottom of our grey carpeted stairs. The deep fibres of the carpet absorb each of my steps, muffling any noise quieter than thump of my suitcase being lugged behind me. When finally reach the bottom of my staircase and pay attention to something other than my footing, I'm hit with the fact that I'm actually doing this.

By the Moon, I'm actually going through with it.

My heart lurches in my chest. It's a strange, half-happy, half-sad jolt. Like part of me resents leaving as much as the rest of me repels the idea of staying. But it's not what I'm leaving that hurts, it's who.

A/N

So, welcome to Bounds Of Love! 

 How do you like this first chapter? Thoughts? Feelings? Suggestions?

 I was originally going to write this as a chicklit based story with paranormal twists but I'm in the mood for some paranormal teen fiction having just finished school (at long last). I'm debating whether or not to leave the prologue up since my plans have changed - it should still fit in with my story outline but we'll see. I may exchange it for a deleted scene that suits the 'high-school' theme better. Either or I'm super excited to see how this goes. 

I'm thinking of updating every Wednesday evening (BST/GMT) so early afternoon or late morning for most places in the US. What do you guys think of this? When are you most likely to read? 

Chapters will be kept short like this chapter to the best of my ability because I want to guarantee an update every week and don't want to bore you, but they'll vary between 600-1200 words and if shorter will be updated in pairs. That said, the next chapter is going to be updated shortly after this!