Flee Omega Flee (Book #2)

(15) Flee Omega Flee

Chapter 15.

                There were jars hanging from the trees, creating a beautiful magical feeling in the air. Candles glowed inside of them, flickering whenever the wind had a chance to ease its way inside. The small heat radiating from it was melting any snow left on the trees, crystalizing any that was farther away from it.

                Below the many candle jars was a neatly set up camp, the snow no longer existent around it. A controlled bonfire was in the center, kissing around the area while the smoke flew up in the air. A tent, one that had a heater inside of it was to the right of us, and to the left was a table set up for two. On the path that lead to both the table and the tent were hundreds and hundreds of red rose petals.

                I took London’s hand, my beautiful mate still left in shock at the vibrancy it possessed. Guiding her to the neatly made out table, I pushed her chair out, and allowed her to sit. No words were traded when I sat in my own seat across from her and looked down at our plates.

                While I’ve never cooked anything above average leveled cooking, I had given this a try. Knowing London was a vegetarian, it was hard to find something romantic to cook. After a while, I asked some of the women in the pack to help think of something to have London try. We decided, thankfully an easy one, on roasted cauliflower and cheddar cheese soup. With some help fromm them evidently, I was able to serve this to her.

                “This is beautiful Clayton.” She gushed, grinning at everything around her. “I love it.”

                “I’m glad you do.” I smiled, looking down at the steaming bowl of soup. My father had told me when he proposed to my mother, he slipped the ring in her soup when she wasn’t looking. Maybe one day I’ll carry out that new tradition.

                We ate in silence, London moaning at the exquisite rich taste every few minutes. I’d glance at her, noticing every detail of her face as she closed her eyes and sighed in blissfulness. The way her red full lips would pull back, showing a bit of her white teeth when she finished her spoonful. Or the flair in her eyes when she’d direct her eyes to the flame beside us, the way it reflected just enhanced her beauty.

                When I had finished my bowl, I noticed she had long finished it, and was glancing at me with a smile. Reaching over slowly, I took her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb along her knuckles. Her hands were so soft compared to mine, and it showed the difference between the two of us. While my hands were rough from working hard, hers were delicate with innocence and no hard labor. She grew up in a perfect house, while I lived sixteen years in despair.

                “What are you thinking about?” She asked, linking our hands together slowly.

                “Everything.” I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head. “My family, my life, you.”

                “You can talk to me.” London spoke softly, locking eyes with me. “You can always talk to me.”

                “This is your date,” I grinned, shaking off all the dread that itched its way into my head. “It’s all about you.”

                “You’re insane.” She laughed, her eyes squinting together with humor in the way that I admire. “But I love you because of it.”

                “You only love me because I’m crazy.” I snorted, and watched as her eyes widened and she began laughing louder. “Well maybe I love you because you’re weird.”