The Wolves Made of Silver and Gold

Flowers Don't Count

Thomison awoke the next day bright and early despite her exhaustion. Also the knocking that was coming from the door. 

"Thomison! The door!" Her mother called from downstairs, Helena was probably cleaning the kitchen yet again, while Korrin and Mannie were gone at school. Thomison stood out of her covers and then slipped on her fluffy slippers and threw on a zip-up hoodie. She jogged down the stairs and opened the door. There stood Zephyr in jeans and a worn tee-shirt with flowers in his hands.

"Oh! Goddess, thank you," Thomison spoke, surprise evident in her voice. She took the beautiful bouquet from him and invited him inside. 

"Mom! Zephyr's here," Thomison called as she walked into the kitchen. 

"Good morning, dear. How was the drive over?" Helena asked as she turned around with a scouring pad in her gloved hand.

"It was pleasant. Thank you for asking. I brought flowers. Thomison?" Zephyr glanced behind him to where Thomison stood, she was admiring the flowers, and seemed fixated on a specific one that had wilted and had bruised petals. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she brushed her slender fingers over the broken petals they healed and perked up perfectly. 

"Here, sorry. There was a sad one with broken petals, so I fixed them." Thomison trimmed the stems and set them in a jar with water.

"This should help them last longer," She said before closing her eyes again and seemed to pull roots out from the trimmed stems. 

"God I'll never get used to your abilities, Tissy." Helena said, using the nickname that Korrin gave her.

"Tissy?" Zephyr said with a poorly restrained chuckle.

"Yes yes, when Korrin was little she called me Tissy because she couldn't pronounce my full name. It stuck for years, but now Korrin only uses it when she's really upset." Thomison said as she adjusted the flowers a little. 

"So, packing?" Zephyr asked, leaning against the fridge.

"Right! Mom, we'll be upstairs," Thomison said as she turned and gestured for Zephyr to follow. 

"No mating under my roof!" Helena called calmly.

"Mom!" Thomison yelled as she disappeared up the stairs, pushing her mate who was giggling. 

Upstairs, Thomison's room was littered with clothes and objects that she planned to take with her. 

"Your room has a lot of... character," Zephyr said, pushing things aside to sit on her messy bed. 

"Yeah, I like putting things I made up. I paint a lot, clearly," Thomison said as she set a box of paints and canvases of various shapes and sizes down next to her bed. 

"I'm glad, my room back home is rather, well... it's rather depressing."

"Oh? Like messy or plain?" Thomison asked as she walked back into her closet to grab another pile of clothes that she set down next to Zephyr as she stood in front of her mirror and sorted the clothing into two piles.

"Both, if I'm honest. I didn't care because no one ever goes in there except me. Then I drink until I'm blind and trash my shit because I hate being alone." Zephyr admitted before he could stop himself. Something about Thomison's effortless beauty made Zephyr fall into the beautiful ocean that was his dearest mate. Her hair was up in a messy bun with plenty of stray hairs falling out. 

"You mean you aren't a sleaze bag king who sleeps with any whore with skin and a heartbeat?" Thomison asked with a chortle as she tossed another shirt into a growing pile of clothes.