His, Eternally [18+]

Chapter Nine: Claude Monet

Thaddeus' Point of View:

     I glanced at my little mate as she worked, taking order and writing them messily down on a scratch piece of paper. She was shy, I noticed — disassociated from those around her. As I watched her from outside the quaint diner, I had noticed that she was left handed, that she wrote in half-cursive and half-gibberish, and that she often doodled intricate lotus flowers in the corner of the paper. She was a listener, but fierce. Her eyebrows would crease when she was focused, and she often ran her small hand through the curls of her luscious hair. She was completely and utterly oblivious to the beauty she held, not noticing when men looked her way; watching the slight sway of her hips when she walked. Whenever someone looked in her direction, I couldn't help but growl in jealousy and possessiveness.

I knew, at the moment, that she wasn't particularly fond of me. I mean, hell — it makes sense. I was basically stalking the poor woman. But I knew she was mine, I knew it from the moment I smelled her intoxicating scent, from the moment I looked at her pink cheeks, and those strangely entrancingly unique eyes. I couldn't leave her alone, not even if I wanted to. The thought of never seeing her flushed, freckle-marked face again made my heart clench. Seeing her rekindled my relationship of humanity, of love and empathy, for she was a world of a emotions, and deep down I knew she was hiding something much deeper than what she showed on the surface.

As she walked out of the diner, I furrowed my brows as I noticed she was only wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. I diverted my gaze from her astonishing body, a sense of anger clouding my thoughts when I saw her shudder from the cold breeze. Why was she not wearing a coat, to keep her warm? She could freeze.

"You need a coat, little one." I breathed out, gently. I did not want her running from me in fear.

"Please leave me be." She replied curtly, picking up her pace. My wolf growled, yearning to strip every piece cloth off of my body just to keep her warm. A smile tugged at my lips as I noticed how small her strides were, due to the length of her tiny legs. "I will not." My anger kept rising, but I needed to keep it at bay. She shouldn't be scared of me; she couldn't be scared of me. I was hers, and she didn't even realize. "Penny for your thoughts, Indie?" I tried to lighten the mood, my wolf purring in happiness as her name rolled off my tongue. Indie, a peculiar name for a peculiar girl.

"I can practically see the gears churning in that head of yours."

As I attempted in unraveling those deep feeling of hers, I could sense a tinge of sadness clouding her brain. The sadness made my wolf want to crouch, kneel to the moon and howl; praying to the Moon Goddess to diminish her melancholy thoughts.

"Nothing." Her soft voice came out, nothing above a whisper, for only I to hear. I could feel my wolf start to come out from the corner of my mind, anger and bitterness building, for she would not let me in.

Realizing my persistence, she sighed. "Please leave me alone, please." Her voice began to crack at the end of the sentence, making my wolf hiss in disagreement. Could she not feel the pull towards me, the sparks, the attraction, the lust in her heart to have me?

Unable to control my wolf and feelings of anger, I spat, the feeling of my canines growing becoming evident. "Do you not realize this, little one? Or are you just naïve. Do you really, truly have no idea what I am to you?" She had to know what I was, because deep down I knew she was far from being a 'regular human.' From the mate pull, I could tell my words had deeply hurt her, making me feel a tinge if regret. Regret? The unfamiliar feeling made my heart feel heavy. She stopped in her tracks, turning around slowly as I felt anger radiating from her skin. She raised her hand, quite high, might I add, preparing to backhand me. Before she could hit me, I grasped her small wrist, my hand completely covering the bottom half of her forearm.

"Little one, you think you can slap me?" I seethed yet again, and I could tell my words had begun to bite her like a venomous snake. Something inside of her deep, dark, yet beautiful mind had snapped, like a twig. I could smell the salty tears start to form in her eyes, making my heart pang again. I could not let her be my weakness.

"Stop calling me that, stop talking down to me like I'm some sort of pet, stop!" She squeaked out, as the tears began to fall freely. My heart dipped into the pits of my stomach, for seeing her cry was worse than any pain I had ever experienced. She was doing something to me, something so indescribable and confusing, something in which I had never felt before. Her tears seemed to touch closed off parts of my heart, making me want to drop to my knees and apologize, and fix her. For once in my life, I felt the urge to apologize, and beg for forgiveness.

I grabbed her shoulders gently, diverting my thoughts from grabbing her waist and pulled her into my arms. She sighed defeatedly as she sank into my grasp, giving into the sparks that pulled us together like electricity to an outlet. Her small form shook into my chest, releasing all of the tears and sadness that had been haunting her fragile mind. She was overwhelmed, my wolf and I could sense it, and alone. I controlled myself not to pull her closer to me, wanting to feel her small form against me, needing to feel her against me. Her hand, originally stubbornly on that delicious right hip of hers, had found its way to my chest, turning my pulse into a frenzy.

"I want to know who you are, Indie. I will know who you are, whether you like it or not. Please, stop resisting me. I am sorry for making you fearful, but I need to know you. What are you?" The last part began to sound like a plead, as my wolf calmed down from the anger we had been feeling just moments before. She sniffled, wiping the tears off of her face. She straightened her stature, nodding in helplessness as she walked slowly, turning back to make sure I was following behind her. I didn't know if her giving in was the pull she felt towards me, due to the mate attraction, or what she truly yearned for. Either way, I accepted. "You promise you are not here to hurt me?" She asked with a small voice, her lip still trembling from the previous cry. I was so lured in by her, not only because she was my mate, but because of the way she felt things. How her emotions and humanity were so raw and unforgiving, and how deeply she thought.

"No, I would never hurt you." I said, relaxing my knuckles as I felt my fists clench. The thought of hurting her was unbearable. She was so frail, so sensitive and special; she had no idea. "And if I, per say, agree to let you kind of know me, you promise you won't, like, kidnap me or some shit?" She was hesitant, cautious with her words. I nodded, complying to everything she was asking me. "I am sorry for making you fearful, you will soon understand why I am like this towards you. You must trust me."

As soon as the word trust was emitted from relief, I could tell her shoulders relaxed slightly, meaning she did feel the mate pull as I did. A small part of me felt guilty for choosing my words so wisely, knowing that she would feel obligated to appease me because of the mate pull.

"I guess I drank some extra dumb-bitch juice today, but come in." She said dryly, causing me to chuckle as we approached her small cabin.

Before she could open the door, I stopped her, opening it for her. Her face turned red, as it did that quite often when she felt nervous or embarrassed. As I entered her home, I noticed few boxes scattered across the mahogany floors. It was small, but her overwhelming scent hit my nose, making me want to sigh in content-ness.  Her walls were painted a pale yellow, as I noticed a mural on a wall that consisted of water lilies and a pond. "Claude Monet." I said lowly, examining the art.

"Yeah, um, I like art a lot. I think it's interesting." Her voice was soft, a melodious sound. "You did this, little one?" I asked, motioning to the art, unable to hold back the pet name I had for her. Her face flushed again, a tiny, but relevant smile splaying across her plush lips. I already knew the answer, from previously studying the intricate flowers she tended to draw on any scrap piece of paper she could find at the diner, including her name tag that she wore at work. However, as much of a rhetorical question it was, I couldn't help but wanting to hear her raspy, sweet voice more.

She nodded, looking down. "I use, um, oil paint and acrylic. It's usually tricky to mix the two, but I think I got it to work." I smiled softly, once again captured by her undeniable beauty. As I stared at her, for I could not help it, we stood in silence for a few moments, before she cleared her throat.

"What would you like to know?"