Cinnyris

A mixture of Madness and Stupidity

I stare at my newly cut hair, with shock and let's say, admiration, but I have to notify you with one thing,

She didn't follow the instructions.

My hair was one inch, or maybe two beneath my shoulders, don't really mind it though, I honestly think that cutting it all the way up to my shoulder was completely blunt, but I was- still am really, too stubborn to change my opinion. She layered it, the bitch. And it doesn't really vex me because, gosh, I don't give a crap.

How ladylike of me.

She didn't dye it though, she couldn't do it. It is easy for her to do those alterations without me feeling them, but dyeing it?

I think that'll be a little too obvious.

I thank that sour yet talented Orange, pay her, and then leave with Venice's hand in mine.

It's time for step two, and I have that figured out, but it'll be much more difficult. Notice that the girl declaring this fact has already lost more than the half of her hair. I hope you understand how difficult step two will be.

God, I really do.

It is with great sadness that I am informing you with this: We're heading back to the pack house. Fortunately, it is still 1 in the afternoon, and school isn't over yet, I really hope Luke went and didn't skip it too. It's just that, every time I think about confronting him, my stomach tightens as it experiences the agonizing twists and turns of my emotions towards him.

We make it there in no time, and I don't like this fact.

I open the door then slowly find my way to the stairs, my head turning in every possible direction, just to make sure he's not here.

My stomach tightens again.

I climb the stairs with grace, so that my footsteps aren't too loud.

Right, left, right, right, left. My brain commands and my slightly tired legs obey.

We finally make it to the huge guest room.

I ever so gingerly knock on the rigid door, once...twice... The third time I knock, it opens.

The man who escaped the Caribbean looks down at me with a gentle smile plastered on his face, his smile is beautiful.

"Cinnyris, isn't it?" He pronounces my name with a slight difficulty. I nod.

"Come in." He says, and I obey.

I sit on a small couch found in the elegant room. Venice rests on my lap. I allow my feet to tap the ground twice, to relief my anxiousness, and then speak.

"Who are you?" I ask, neglecting the fact that, I already know the answer. I just need to hear it; I don't care if it's from Andkin one or two.

"I'm Luke's father, and you are?" He asks, although he knows too.

"I'm his mate." I speak with a low yet polite tone. There is something about this man, something that forces you to respect him.

"I can't believe that someone so sweet could ignite a war so fast." He murmurs to himself, but it's loud enough for me to hear.

"So he told you everything, didn't he." I say, my sentence isn't in the form of a question, it's just stating a bitter fact. He nods, slowly.

Silence envelopes the room as if it's a new born baby. Nicely and gently.

He finally speaks "your father was a great man." It came out softly, with a wise manner out of a wise man, but I was taken aback.

"You knew my father?" I ask, with evident shock in my tone.