Mario Benedetti once said: You can hear the steps of someone who’s nearing but never arrives.
I could hear the soft yet manly footsteps of the man of my life nearing me, the one and only, my dad. The downside? The realistic one? I never get to see him. He never reaches me, and the worst part is that I can hear his strong footsteps losing strength and they become weak until the cease and I can’t hear them anymore.
I feel myself drift off to slumber, but then I realize I had been in one all the time, and what I thought to be me entering the world of dreams, is me actually awakening to reality
“Angelina we are here” – says Jeremiah
I snuggle closer to him and hold him tighter from behind making him chuckle. He simply and slowly starts detaching myself from him and climbs down from the motorcycle. I stay on it with my eyes closed not ready yet to pry them open
“Don’t eye rape me please” – I say smirking and opening my eyes to find him staring and blushing a little
“I wish I was” – he says smirking at me his composure back in place
“There you are” – I say grinning – “What time is it?” – I say climbing down the motorcycle
He frowns – “It’s eleven am, why?”
“Good morning” – I say giving him a kiss on the cheek – “Are we going in or what?”
He grins – “Yeah, follow me”
He takes me on a tour to this huge, beautiful house, if you can call it that way. I would more likely say mansion but at the mention of that word to describe the house I got a glare from Jeremiah saying this house is a heritage of Melissa’s parents, the old alphas who pass away a few years ago leaving a little Melissa to take over the pack, which she did and pretty gracefully or so I’ve been told.
We are entering on of the rooms on the last floor of a six store building.
“This is my room” – he says standing at the door of your typical bachelor room
“Classic” – I say entering his room
“What?” – he asks confused
“Your room is what I thought it would be”
“Meaning?”
“Forget it” – I pause and shrug at his look – “It’s nice”
I walk around his room, not finding even one picture of him and his family and I could have a wild guess that he either didn’t have parents or their relationship is really bad. I enter his walk in closet and I’m not surprise this guy has more clothes that I do, well at the moment because back at home I have twice as much as him. When I come out of his closet, he is sitting in the bed holding a picture frame in his hands
“Come here” – he says patting the space next to him – “I won’t bite” – he pauses – “That much” – he says smirking
I roll my eyes at his flirting – “What’s that?” – I say referring to the picture
“Come sit with me”
I walk to the bed and sit. I then start staring at the picture. It is him, when he was a baby, been held by a woman, who I assume was his mom
YOU ARE READING
I killed my mate [in process, please be patient]
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