Flying Doves

Two Parts of a Loving Whole

In a frenzy, Dove did what she normally did when her rational world loses and her reality falters. Notice that this has only occurred one other point in her existence therefore this action had never really worked out all the kinks it had on the day it was created. For example one of these kinks was something along the lines of not really accomplishing anything.

Sure, pacing keeps you busy, your mind stimulated along with your body. But the real question is does it actually do anything to help the situation.

Dove found out early life that the answer is No, it does absolutely nothing. Chewing obnoxiously upon her thumb nail while flying around in straight lines all along Emerson's waxed wood floor Dove attempted to ask questions. Some to herself others to no one in particular. But Emerson seemed to believe most of the questions were aimed at him. When Emerson would reply, stupidly, Dove stopped pacing and glared at him.

Emerson wished his mate would keep calm and just communicate her thoughts with him, but he would rather have her making scuff marks on the floor than glaring at him through eyes of stone. Glaring was the one thing he hated more than anything. It was one of his many pet peeves. Anyone glaring irked him but when his true and only soul mate did Emerson felt like crying. He so wanted to embrace her in a calming hug. Which if he did it would result in a slap or being kneed in the groin.

After about twenty minutes Dove stopped. Although the questions running through her mind hadn't, but her feet did. Then she turned her attention over to Emerson.

With everything that she had left of reality she stepped closer to his statue against the door.

"Emerson," She began. "Are you a werewolf?"

All this time. All this freaking time Dove had this question roaming inside her head. When ever he would sniff her hair or just smell the air in general reminded her of the family's pet pug. Isabelle could always tell when their other pet Simon the cat was in the room. The way the Emerson would place an arm around her and claim her like a dog claims territory. She didn't understand it until today. Sweet baby Jesus. Help me now!

Emerson never thought he could love Dove anymore. Yet he couldn't have been more wrong. She was so damn smart. Maybe even too smart. She figured out what he was along with Greg that walked in on them earlier.

For the second time that day Dove had no idea what was going on, but all of the sudden she was embraced by arms as strong as steel.

So warm, her mind purred. As strong as steel but as soft as a pillow. Dove couldn't believe it but she embraced him back. Slowly lifting her arms and wrapping them around the torso of the man she never ever wanted to love.

Which she didn't of course, but she could almost feel the pull that crushed her insides. The pressure was killing her. She wondered if it was killing Emerson too.

Emerson didn't care why Dove touched him. He almost peed his pants at the way she snuggled into his chest like a kitten.

Nothing else mattered to them but their bare skin touching each others. Even if the naked skin was on arms, they could feel the heat and sparks it created. Dove became confused, when Emerson pulled away with a groan.

Did she do something wrong?

"Dove," he sighed. "Dove, you are the most breath taking creature to walk into this world. Not only with your beauty but with your intelligence it will get you far."

Dove glanced blankly at him. He still hasn't answered the question.

"Emerson, are you a werewolf?" She asked. When he didn't answer he spoke again. "Emerson answer the god damn question!"

Dove was obviously losing her patience. Emerson stumbled on the right words to say.