Malia Pierce at the age of nineteen was alone, constantly moving in fear she would be hunted down and found by her tormentors. She is the Alpha's daughter of the Phobos pack, where father, and his whole pack despised her just for her existence. He b...
A bit of fluff in this chapter. (: Hope you enjoy!
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I wasn't really sure how to help him at this point. I had never seen him so distraught over something that wasn't about me, something that I couldn't fix. The contrast between the cold air and his tears made me shiver but the warmth of his breath kept me from getting too uncomfortable.
A good stretch of time passes as we stood there, comforting my love as he cried out his heart in betrayal. I did not care that I was getting hungry or the fact the bottom of my feet started to ache. He needed me more then I needed those things so I stayed there for him. I stayed there, rubbing his back and whispering reinsurances in his ear until his cries finally stopped. Though, even then, I held him, held him until he pulled back and wiped his swollen eyes. With a blotchy red face and puffy eyes, he looked at me and offered a small smile yet it was weak and pitiful. I looked up at him, questioning him silently with my eyes.
"I'm okay." He assured me but I know better than that.
"No you're not." I called him on his bluff and his shoulders dropped a bit. He looked tired, drained of all energy. He was in despair.
"You do know you don't have to be strong all the time, right? It's okay to be weak at some points. It's okay to cry sometimes."
"I-I know. I just don't like being weak. I need to be strong for you." Grasping his hand gently in one of mine, I placed the other on his cheek.
"Not always. I have to be strong for you too. We can take turns, that way we won't get to tired." At that, he gave me a genuine smile, his eyes glistening with happiness.
"You've felt this your whole life." He spoke gently, holding my head with both of his hands. "I don't know how you lived like this, with this constant feeling that someone stomped on your heart repeatedly."
"It was hard. I had to fend for myself, be strong for myself but now I have you."
"I love you." He said, holding my gaze, his full of admiration towards me. "You know that, right?"
"Of course I do. You tell me everyday."
"Because I love you everyday."
"And I to you." I grinned, placing a lingering kiss on his lips. "I love you too." I mumbled against him.
Reconnecting our lips, we were in a fit of passion. Our kisses were long, drawn out, not wanting to be separated for too long. Soft touches were given to each other by our hands and fingers, sparks constantly erupting from our nonbreaking contact. I craved these moments. The way his hands felt to be on me. The way he told me he loved me through his movements and actions rather than his words.
