In the Silence

10 years ago

Dane Harrison

For a long as I can remember I have been totally and whole pathetic. A freaking runt. The smallest of the pack. I didn't ask for this.

While all the other kids went through warrior training successfully I struggle to barley run a mile and the others know it. Even at 15 I am small of my age, at least a head shorter than all the others.

Even the smallest girls tower over me easily and I... am left in the dust. No friends, no siblings to speak of.

I hold my school bag closer to my chest as I swiftly move the the corridors. My lessons for the day ended 10 minutes ago so I should be the only one in the halls. The less people I come across the better.

I can't talk to people, I can't face them. Suddenly the door of the class room next to me opens. The group of loud boys stalk out, hollering and slapping each other on the shoulder. My hands becomes clammy.

Suddenly one of them spots me. „Aye, boys! Look who just stumbled onto our doorstep!" Where is the teacher? My throat constricts as the boys laugh even louder. „Poor little, kitten. Went down the wrong alley." Another mockingly says.

A cold, unpleasant hand grabs the back of my neck and doesn't let go. „Let's say we have some fun, boys?" My hair stands on end but I am helpless. They shove me to each other, pushing me forward until we reach the back of the school building.

My backpack is ripped off me and all the zippers are opened. All my notebooks, a pens and drawings are dumped onto the floor. Oh, no.

„Hey! Look at this!" He pics up a specific sketch I made a couple of days ago. The others walk over to him and laugh as soon as they see it. „Is this who I think it is?" They laugh powder and someone kicks the back of my knee sending me to the floor. I can't stop the tears from leaking out of my eyes. I am pathetic.

They rummage through the rest of my thing but some of them bore. They walk up to me, cornering a already down prey. Tremors reck my body and I half-crawl back- back into a wall. „Poor thing, the little kitten is scared."
„Maybe this will cheer him up." With torturous slow movements one boy pics up my prized drawing and... rips it down the middle. Once. Twice.

Tears fall down my face uncontrollably. Why did I take the evening classes when no one is at school? There are no teachers, no one that could help m-

„What do you think you're doing?" All of our heads whip around. On the wall across from us she leans, a Lilly pop between her fingers. Her icy blue gaze watching the boys closely, her skin as dark as a shadow melting into the wall behind her. The first boy scoffs. „Get lost, freak."

She hums not bothering to reply. The tears dry and my mouth hangs open. She is magnificent. Her tan skin and dark clothes help her blend in to the brick behind her.

„Wouldn't want poor Dad to find out about a few weeks ago, now would we?" The boys collectively tense and look to their leader in the middle. „You wouldn't dare, freak." He bites out, fuming. Freya Astor shrugs. „Run along, now." She dismisses them.

Grumbling and shoving each other around, pinning the blame on the other finally they round the corner. And finally, for the first time her eyes meet mine. She is stunning. I'm pretty sure if my wolf were present he would want her to claim us.

As if she will. I am pathetic.

„You really manage to attract all kinds of trouble don't you, cotton ball?" Coming out of her mouth the endearment sounds nice. I am frozen to the floor not moving as she carefully steps forward. She starts to pic up all of my scattered things, thank goodness it's not that much to begin with.

Setting my bag back down she treads towards me slowly. As if to a wounded animal, as if not to spook me. Even when my instinct tells me to relax I tense up.

She lowers herself to her knees to be the same height. Her pale blue eyes never waver from my green ones. Her tan hand reaches out to brush a white strand of hair out of my eyes. I flinch back but she persists.

Warmth and... comfort move through my body and without realising it I lean into her touch. He hand leaves me and she turns o stand up again. „...Freya" I whimper so quietly I hardly hear it. She hesitate and sucks in a breath but stands up anyway.

She hands me my bag and move to collect the ripped paper. Until- She pauses suddenly. One of the bigger pieces is in her hand. A clear half of the sketch- the sketch of her.

Her eyes widen and I lower mine to the ground as shame fills me. I am pathetic with a pathetic little crush.

At some point my memory blacks out and I only have snippets.

We walk back to the school. She call her father, the vice principal. My parents arrive. I will be going to a boarding school. Far from her. Where they specialise in „late bloomer" shifter.

I wait in the corridor for the final details to be finished. If I look at any face that shows me pity I will collapse.

Freya Astor joins me, Dane Harrison, the pathetic shifter. On one of the chairs she starts to assemble the ripped up sketch of her and with some tape she sticks the pieces back together. A soft smirk pulls at her lips. „Not perfect and a little wrinkled but hey! Looks good as new."

Her eyes meet mine again and I feel my cheeks redden. I look at the sketch I made in class, her soft lips, that mischievous light in her eyes. I wish I managed to capture it better.

„It's beautiful." She says to me. I redden even more and mumble a quiet thank you.

Later all my bags are packed and in the boot of the car. All ready to go to the boarding school. I try not to think about why Freya is still here, why she hasn't gone yet and stays with me. Especially someone like me.

My parents jump into the front seats and start to fiddle with the GPS but I don't get in. Awkwardly I stand on the sidewalk and look in any direction except for a her.

„Cotton ball, look at me." I shake my head slightly and keep my gaze to my shoes. Soft hands lift my head and I meet a clash of soft eyes.

Gently she steps closer and presses her forehead against mine. Without thinking my arms wrap around her and I hide my face in the crook of her neck. Her chest rumble and I stiffen. But then I realise- her wolf is purring.

She holds me closer to herself, threads her hand through my white hair and lifts my face up again. My eyesight blurs because of tears again. I close my eyes and I expect her to let my go but instead I feel soft lips on mine.

A quick peck, barley a second, yet it was so sensual. Calming. My mother doesn't lift her gaze from the navigator as she calls to me out the open window. In a split second decision I rip open my bag and tug out the taped sketch of Freya. I hold it out to her silently asking her to take it. Her kiss warms my lips as well as my soul and I want to give her something in return. 

Smiling she takes it and thanks me. I blush again and far to quickly am sitting in the car and driving around the bend. Only the image of her standing on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, a single arm raised in goodbye and the other hugging my drawing to her chest.

My black rose of hope. 

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