Ripped Jeans and Werewolf Kisses

Chapter 14

Walking into the house after her, Taine saw Camila drop her bags and stretch her still limbs. The exposed skin of her back was enough to make him temporarily forget their standoff with each other.

  "There's dinner leftovers in the fridge." She called as she bounded up the stairs. As he heard her bedroom door shut, he let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.  

 It was getting dark now, easy for Camila to 'go to bed' and not emerge until the middle of the next day, like she often did. It was a confusing feeling, having her here. 

  He liked his space, his solitude. He didn't like having to be cautious or aware of another presence. But at the same time, he couldn't imagine not having her here. He saw the subtle female touches that he was unconsciously getting used to, more sunlight, scented candles. Despite the few changes in decor, he still managed to maintain the same routines and thankfully Camila's largely invisible presence (that cooked quite well) didn't disturb him during the day. He did not like being disturbed. 

He knew she steered clear of him most days. Tiptoed around this glass castle afraid to crack it. He knew it wasn't out of fear, he chose to believe it was out of tolerance and respect rather than actual avoidance.  Honestly, Taine liked having silence to the point where he forgot she lived with him. He could use a few moments in the day where Camila was not in his head. Sometimes when, even the silence became too loud to handle, he would go to his room, just so he could walk past hers. Sometimes she would be listening to quiet music, talking on the phone, muttering to herself or singing songs. 

When he built his house his mother had made him add extra rooms, extra closest space, for a mate, for children. Taine didn't care for any of that. He just wanted a place to eat, sleep, shower and work. He didn't care about frivolous things. This wasn't a home. It didn't have a purpose until Camila had arrived. He hoped one day it would become a sacred place for them, a place where love and life could grow. Wishful thinking. 

Trying to forget about her, he turned on the tv and settled for watching a live sport match. A few hours later he had unpacked, thrown his shirt in the washing machine and was making a final trip downstairs to check if the doors were locked. It was late and he tried to be quiet, thinking of Camila being asleep. 

He was about to round the corner to descend the staircase when he saw movement in the kitchen. Taine could see her clearly despite the darkness.

He heard sobs that both squeezed his heart and frustrated him. Camila was sitting on the barstool, leaning on the kitchen counter crying hysterically. Her face was scrunched and she looked like she was in pain. The sobs were shaking her small body. Taine approached her carefully. 

 Upon closer inspection, he could see that she was crying over a box filled with an assortment of things. In the box, Taine could see letters, drawings from Sammy, other odds, and ends that obviously had immense sentimental value. There was a diamond ring in the box.  Camila was clutching a photo frame, of her and Liberty. They both looked so beautiful and joyful, it looked like Libby's mating ceremony. Camila had been her right-hand woman the whole night.

Taine wasn't sure if she had even seen him approach until she spoke. "Libby got everyone to write letters to me, letters if I'm ever homesick or sad. Everyone, even people I didn't get to see, they all wrote to me."

Taine, unsure of what to do, placed his warm hands on Mila's cold shaky one. He didn't know what to say.

He wished that he was sorry. Sorry that he ripped her away from her home, sorry that he had to keep her so close. But he really wasn't. He wasn't sorry for any of it, because she was everything. And he wanted everything.