Sweet Dreaming | ✔

twenty-six

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MYLA VELLA

When I woke up the next morning I didn't want to get out of bed, there was no reason to. I didn't want to run into Caleb or Jake for that matter, it was like I needed to sort my head out first. Maybe I was being selfish but I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt, the emotion striking my body in strange ways.

My stomach growls loudly and I knew I needed to go downstairs and get some food or I would literally starve, having not eaten much over the last two days whilst I wasn't here.

Just to my surprise Caleb was sat at the kitchen island nursing a hot cup of coffee, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him.

"Hi," I say lightly, catching his attention as he places down his mug.

He turns to me, his eyes red and bags heavy. You could tell he hadn't had much sleep but to be honest, neither had I.

"Good morning," he smiles in my direction, noticing how bloodshot his eyes already were. "How are you?"

My shoulders shrug as I stroll to the fridge and yank at the handle. "So-so," I grumble as I search for something to eat.

"Same," Caleb sighs from behind me, for a few moments I continuously stare at the food in the fridge that wasn't going to make itself. "Do you want me to make you something?"

Turning slowly around to him, his eyes open and eager. "No," I shake my head, hating how stubborn I am.

"Are you sure?" He says softly. "I could make you waffles with your favourite toppings."

I wanted to say something petty in response to being bought by materialistic things but I decide better, we don't need more tension. "Dad makes them better," I say bluntly.

Caleb's mouth falls open. "Are you joking?"

"No," I say with a shake of my head.

"He only learnt how to make them from Zara who originally taught me, if anything our waffles should be the exact same." Caleb defends himself as he stands from the stool and places his cup into the sink.

"Well make the best waffles ever then," I shrug and Caleb stares back at me, opening the cupboard and taking out all the resources needed.

"Fine, I will."

I nod at him and pour myself some water, the room settling in a strange silence. "I appreciate how mature you are Myla." Caleb says after a few moments, beating all of the ingredients into a bowl.

"There's no point in being salty," I sigh as I lean onto the kitchen island with my forearms. "That won't get us anywhere."

"I think I need to take a leaf out of your book," he says with a subtle laugh. "You're more like the adult and I'm the child."

I snort unattractively. "Too right," I agree.

"I really want you to understand that what I said was a severe exaggeration of how I felt," Caleb says as he turns to me. "My wolf has just been playing up recently and I'm sorry, I never meant to say what I said so harshly."

"Then tell me what you meant to say," I bite back instantly.

He stops what he's doing and shifts round to me, leaning back on the counter. His hand swiping across his forehead, letting out a deep breath. "I knew you were lying to me when you said nothing was happening between you and Jake," he tells me and I shuffle between my feet. "When Evan kept taking your side I just hit the roof and I hate myself for it."