Hendrix ✓

26 ★ I hear her playin the drums

𝕋𝕨𝕠 𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 - 𝕄𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕁𝕖𝕥𝕤

"I hear her playin the drums late at night

The neighbors complain,

but that's the kind of girl I like"

Cedric POV

I don't belong here. That's what's running through my mind at the moment. Even Savannah said that this was ridiculous. She was right.

Pubs and I don't mix. I've stopped coming to places like these decades ago. It's just a place for people to drink and hook up, there's no pretenses. No expectations. It's not my scene. Anymore, that is.

My beta told me to have fun. She knew why I came here in the first place.

Hendrix invited me here. I couldn't exactly say no. Any way I can see her, I'll take it.

She's the only reason I'm still in the state in the first place. The rogue search isn't exactly going well, there's no sign of them anywhere. No trace of Ryk, or the Red Alpha. Truth be told, I don't think they're here. I never did. Part of me doubts they even came through here.

Savannah's the one who has been in constant contact with The Guard, informing them of our unsuccessful mission thus far.

I don't have the patience to talk to a council member of the Guard. They're too busy being on their high horse to actually care about the minor details, and it's not as if we have many big delimas to provide for them. Then there's the fact that they're terrified of me. Then again, who's not?

I'll tell you who's not. My baby.

Hendrix is perfect. It's not an opinion, it's a simple fact. If it weren't for her, I'd have left Virgina within a few days of finding nothing.

It's been almost two whole weeks since I found her black out drunk, and in that time I've watched her more carefully. Especially in class when she's around Dylan.

She may be naive, and gentle, but she's not dumb, grading her work is enough to assure me of that. She notices his sudden aloof tendencies. He won't sit next to her in class, in fact he tries to get as far away as possible. He's always shooting nervous eyes at me.

Hendrix, the sweetheart she is, tried to find out what was wrong. Thankfully, she's dropped it after a while, still suspicious.

Again, she's smart, I'm sure she put two and two together about that night. The little bug that is Dylan has turned into a skittish boy. I couldn't be more pleased.

Our usual tutoring sessions have gone splendidly. We've somehow found at least a bit of time to actually talk about the subject instead of locking lips. She turned in her paper on time with remarkable grace and eloquence. It was the best paper in the class. No bias involved.

Well, maybe a little bias. She did write it about my favorite book after all.

I tried to take her out in celebration, but she refused. Instead, she invited me to her band gig tonight. I don't exactly enjoy the idea of her being in a bar, surrounded by alcohol. Images of that night flood my mind and I smile, but also wince. Hendrix was adorable, and I didn't mind taking care of her. But the events leading up to it are still too raw. I can't have a repeat of that. I can't take it.

My patience used to be something of legends, it was what I was known for, that patience doesn't apply where Hendrix is involved.

Speaking of impatience, where is my mate? I growl low in my throat as I check my watch, the bartender backing away in the corner of my vision. Humans aren't accustomed to growling.