Hendrix ✓

11 ★ Freckled girl

𝔽𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝 - 𝕀𝕣𝕠𝕟 & 𝕎𝕚𝕟𝕖

"Searching out a

freckled girl

with style"

Cedric POV

     My childhood was short lived.

     There are few moments I still remember from my adolescent years, but I do recall the sheer giddiness. The pure, unabashed, childlike excitement of life. It's something I haven't felt in a long, long time. Excitement. For years I've forgotten the feeling. It was lost to me, and I couldn't even recollect what it was like to be excited.

     I feel it now. It's all I've known since Hendrix came along. She's all I think about now. All I want. All I crave. The things I used to strive for seem unimportant compared to my tiny Luna.

     The worries of pretending to be a human Professor have left me, the stresses over leaving my pack behind have completely vanished. She's all that matters.

     I'm anxious to speak to her, and to even be in the same vicinity as her. I've seen her plenty of times, after all I won't allow my mate to ride her bike home at 2AM in the dark. I don't trust the human world, or the supernatural one, when it comes to her.

     I'm not taking any chances.

     Watching her from the sidelines for a few minutes on her way home from work isn't enough.

     The countless college classes go by too slow, slower than before now that I know she's out there. Hendrix is in my Tuesday and Thursday classes, a measly two classes a week among the countless other ones I suffer through on a daily basis. The few days it took before she finally walked into my lecture room on Thursday were tough to get through, but as soon as I saw her I knew it was beyond worth it.

    Every hour of torture is worth seeing her for even a second of time.
 
     When she walks in, backpack slung over her shoulders, her dark eyes fly towards the front of the room where they settle on me. A warm blush floods her face and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of it. Everything about her is too much.

     The other humans shuffle in as well, but I hardly notice them, they're like pesky gnats that won't fly away. My gaze remains fixed on the only human that matters.

     Class goes by quickly now that Hendrix is here. I mindlessly go through a lecture I've taught too many times already. I try to remain focused on what I'm saying, and from the outside I probably seem focused, but I'm far from it.

     I can pick her fragrance out among all the various smells, and I hold onto it through the hour and a half block. The smell of her and the occasional glance at her keep me sane.

     I give out an assignment, and the young students hold back their groans of frustration. Little do they know the purpose behind it has little to do with their education. My idea has me smiling as I stare up at my mate.

     And then there's that. Smiling. Another thing I haven't done in the past couple of hundred years.

     The tragedy that struck my family as a child rendered me smile-less, and left me with horrendous scars that strike fear into the hearts of those around me. People see me and cringe, everyone except one little human girl.