Were's the Love?

Chapter 35: A Never-Ending Cacophony of Godawful Bullshit

I stare outside the window. The first snowflakes of winter lazily fall, laying a fresh batch of powder on the ground. It's nice.

I've always liked winter. Despite the cold, there's something peaceful about it. Maybe it's the fact that everything hibernates.

You have no idea how noisy the world is when you have enhanced senses. Every sound is louder than it should be. A bird singing a mile away sounds like it's right outside your window. Multiply that by the hundreds of birds in the forest and it's a never-ending cacophony of noise that you have to learn how to tune out. But in the winter, that disharmonic symphony of sound is much quieter. You actually have a chance to think clearly without a constant hum threatening to distract you.

Not that I really need to think. I've been doing nothing but that most of my life. Though, I've definitely spent more time in my head the last six months than I have in all the years before that combined.

I don't mean to. I'm trying to relax and let things go, but it's hard. Ever since Halloween, I've been fighting that need to call him mine. I don't know what happened. Maybe it was what his sister said about what it meant to ask him to hunt me. Maybe the owl in me decided it was tired of waiting for the human in me to make up my damn mind and, since he's already hunted me, that was good enough for us to be forever mates. Maybe something happened while I was stoned on catnip. I don't know.

Jason said I didn't do anything stupid after Vincent unknowingly gave me the herb, but I'm not sure I believe him. When I woke up the next morning, Jason was staring at me like he'd won the lottery. I know he does that a lot, but in this case, I was not in any shape to be considered a prize. I was hungover, had some unknown substance in my hair, reeked of stale booze, and I'm pretty sure I threw up at some point that night, because my mouth tasted like vomit. I was fucking mess.

But Jason just smiled at me with that adoring gaze of his. A gaze that I've been getting almost constantly for the last two weeks, despite me doing nothing to deserve it. It's been two weeks of me overthinking and shying away. I want to believe that maybe, just maybe Jason won't change his mind, but I'm not quite there yet. So, instead of just letting myself accept whatever he's willing to give me, I find myself holding back more.

It sucks.

I hate that I keep flip-flopping back and forth. I have moments of determination where I'm ready to open myself up to the idea of a life with Jason. Then, I find out something new and it scares me, so I start overthinking and hiding again. It's fucking dumb. I don't know why I can't just accept things without my stupid head getting in the way.

"Are you ready to go?" Jason asks as he exits the bedroom. I turn around and nod, noticing how well-dressed he is for our dinner with my parents. His normal smile is gone and he runs his hand over his freshly shaven chin. He nixed the usual sweatshirt and jeans for a deep red sweater, black slacks, and a matching jacket.

I nod and walk over to him, reaching up to fix a stray hair that apparently decided to fall out of place and give him a gentle kiss.

"What was that for?" he smiles.

"You looked nervous." I chuckle, "You don't need to be. It's just dinner with my parents. It's not like they're strangers. You've met them before."

"Yeah," he sighs, "but I wasn't your mate then."

"You'll be fine," I grin, not really believing what I said, and grab his hand, "Come on. Let's go."

We head out to the car and start the short drive to the edge of town where my parents' home is located. We don't say anything during the ride and that's fine with me. Knowing Jason, he probably has a million things going on in his head right now. We've been mates for almost six months now and this is the first time my parents have invited him over. It has to bother him that it took so long.