Adored by the Alpha

Chapter 10

The time went by slowly, but finally, I heard the door open behind me. I didn't even care at this point. If he wanted to kill me for crying, then he may as well do it.

"Love..."

I hugged the duvet closer, screaming my cry into it, my body shaking and vibrating with each sob leaving my body.

The bed dipped beside me, and I felt a soft hand on my arm, giving me a quick, gentle squeeze.

"I really feel like we need to talk about this, Love. I understand that you're upset and that this entire situation is very stressful for you... for many reasons, but I want to make it better, for the both of us- if you're miserable, I'm miserable... and I don't like being miserable. Please just... talk to me," he whispered, almost begged.

It took a minute before I could get my breathing under control enough to ask him; "What do you want me to say?"

I felt him standing up from behind me, before he walked around the bed, and bent down in front of my face. "I don't want you to say anything, I want to talk to you about this. We're going to spend the rest of our lives together, that's going to be a really long time if you're going to spend most of it crying,"

I looked at him, trying to make every feeling in my body go away. I didn't want to say anything, if I did, I knew my voice would crack, and I'd start bawling my eyes out again.

He sighed deeply and hung his head in defeat, shaking it slightly from side to side. Before standing up, and walking away, not saying a word.

***

He didn't talk for a week.

And then another one.

And then a third.

He would come into the room, sure. He'd work on his computer, every night at 11:30 he would pull the fold-out bed from the closet and place it next to me. Well, technically he had talked to me, every night he would say 'goodnight, Love'.

I spent most of my days watching whatever Alpha Allen put on the TV, and reading the books he'd bring me.

Two days after we'd stopped talking, he had left a copy of 'Angels and Demons' on my nightstand. When I had finished it a few days later, he'd left me a copy of 'The Da Vinci Code'- I had almost finished 'Inferno' when he walked in with a small stack of magazines and placed them on my bedside table along with a ballpoint pen.

"Cirkle everything you like, and what colors you'd like it in. Price is not a problem- nor is excess. If you want eight of the same shirt in the same color, then you just write an 8 next to it. Make sure you get some of everything - shirts, pants, skirts, sweaters, socks, everything, I can order more for you, but it would be quite annoying if you opened your closet and found out that you forgot something important," he paused for a moment, pressing his lips together thoughtfully as if he wanted to say something. "... and if I may make a suggestion... lots of dark blues... and probably light green too, I also think that would suit you quite well,"

He turned around, heading for the door.

"What... what are you talking about?" I whispered, my voice sounding oddly hoarse from not talking for so long. He stopped dead in his tracks, his hand on the handle, inhaling deeply.

He turned around slowly and walking up next to the bed. He raised his hand just a bit as if he wanted to touch my hand, by let it fall onto the stack of magazines instead. "You're being discharged in two days, and I want you to have clothes that you'll feel comfortable in, so... circle the things you like, and I'll make sure they're in your closet by the time we get back home. Oh, and I forgot... this question may seem inappropriate, but I need to know... what size are you? 6 or 7?"