Chapter 11

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"What's your favorite color?" I ask J as we try to walk to the next tree. Try being the operative word. "I feel like you're a red kinda man."

He doesn't reply. I'm pretty sure he wasn't even focusing on me, just on making his feet move the way he wanted them to.

Today we were working on his walking. He was really trying his hardest, growling everytime he tripped and throwing a fit everytime he took me down with him.

He didn't like hurting me.

Though about ninety-nine percent of his weight was pressed onto me, it was still a valiant effort. I tried to keep the mood light with conversation, but obviously it was bound the fail. Nevertheless, I couldn't just leave him to brood in the selfhatred he showcased as he continuously glared at his feet.

"My favorite color is orange." I say bouncing his arm higher onto my aching shoulder, my fingers tightly gripping his own. "I just like that it's bright and subtle all at once. And don't tell me they're different shades and tones of each color, cause it's different. Yellow is too bright and some reds are too dark, orange is just right."

J takes his eyes away from his feet to look at me. He stops us in our fifth attempt of walking from tree to tree and pulls me by my shoulder, his lips meeting my forehead. His lips are gentle and loving and I melt into him as a thousand butterflies flutter in my stomach.

He releases me. Looks to my head, trails his eyes down to mine, keeps them there before glancing briefly down to my lips. I bite them subconsciously making the air between us denser.
He suddenly looks at them with the same intensity he'd previously directed to walking. Before my hopes could peak, he shakes his head profusely before glaring at his feet and nudging me a little.

Eventually we make it to the tree, both of us panting in aspiration as we leaned against the ancient wood.
I bring a gentle hand to the spot he'd kissed, a feverish blush running up my neck and displaying itself on my cheeks. Ever since I kissed him on his cheek that one time, he'd been doing it nonstop.

He used it as a way of comforting me or just saying thanks, but sometimes I felt he was just doing it because he could.

He always kissed my forehead or my cheek; never anywhere else. This was because those were the places I'd kissed him, so like most things, he'd mirrored my actions.

It made me wonder what he'd do if I kissed him on his lips. Would he draw me in more or... would he take it even further?

Sometimes I caught him looking at my neck in deep curiosity, his wolf most likely driving him to mark me. But he most definitely didn't know what that was, let alone how it worked.

Should I tell him... show him perhaps? But was that taking advantage of someone who didn't know? Was it wrong to withhold it; he was my mate. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, and I couldn't even ask the people who always knew the answer to everything.

The kiss J presses to my cheek brings me back to reality as I jump a little in his hold. He pulls back to look at me, worry etching his features as he held my face in his large hands, his thumbs massaging my skin.

"I'm fine." I say but he didn't seem to buy it. "I am, just got a little lost up here." I say pointing to my head.

He looks to the place I'd pointed to and frowns a little. My eyebrows meet in response but I'm not given the opportunity to question him as he leans in and kisses the place I'd pointed to. He pulls back before looking to me again.

The laughter rolls it's way up my throat before I can stop it. I double over, my head pressing against his chest as my amusement gets the best of me.

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