Klepto✔︎

10 ❀ Optimism

     "Well. It's hard to be optimistic when your whole pack hates you. When your own parents hate you! When your siblings deny any relation to you." I grate, my grip punishing the arms of the chair. My knuckles are vastly white as I use my harsh fingers to hold tight to the material trying to distract myself.

     Paullini's face flushes, he immediately writes a bazillion notes in his little leather book. His eyes meet mine and I can see the sadness and pity staining them darker.

      I look away, I hate that I actually like that expression on his face. Not so much the pity, but the fact that he doesn't glare at me and tell me to suck it up. He's nicer to me than my own father.

     My father. Man what I wouldn't give to hash out some revenge on him. When I got home last night, he yelled at me while my older sisters looked on, smiling like the little witches they are.

     Apparently Tressa had been watching me with Ezra also, so when I eventually made it to my room for the night she pounced on me. All my sisters laughed as they each threw insults my way.

     I went to bed crying last night. All because I sat beside my mate.

     I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory, embarrassed at my weakness. How can I be such a fool? There is no hope. Not anymore.

     "I'm sorry they're like that." Paullini whispers, and for a fleeting moment I actually think he's somehow reading my mind, but then I remember my little outburst.

     "It's fine. I'm use to it, it doesn't really matter." I shake my head as I try to backtrack, trying desperately to cover up my words or take them back. I wish he didn't see how weak I truly am. He knows my struggles better than anyone seeing as how he interrogated me every single day.

     "It does matter. I hate that this pack treats you like dirt. I wish everyday that there was something I could do. Anything." He says, but I can't say that I believe him. How can someone actually wish something like that for me? I'm no one.

     I know he tolerates me more than most, but does he really care about me that much? Surely not. That's not possible. Even my own mate doesn't want me.

     "People can be cruel. They hate what they don't understand." He says, and somehow I vaguely remember hearing that somewhere. Maybe in a dream, maybe in a past life, but when he says the words they echo in my head like a gong ringing deep in my mind.

     "When you do meet your mate, I'm sure they'll fall head over heels for you and whisk you away." Paullini assures me, before going back to his little journal. Maybe he's right. Maybe Ezra will whisk me away on his handsome steed.

     Yeah, right. I doubt that will ever happen.

     "Maybe." I say, because it's a word that was on my mind more than usual.

     "Remember! Optimism is key."

     "Where has optimism gotten you, huh?" I snap, and almost immediately wish that I hadn't. Paullini's face falls the slightest bit.

     The one person in my pack to look at me like I am a living, breathing creature and I treat him the way I hate people treating me.

     Why am I such an asshole?

     "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I say, tears filling my eyes. They've turned me into a monster, I've always thought that I'm somehow immune to the pressure and harsh words, but I was wrong. I am sick. Twisted.

     "No, Klepto. It's alright." His hand is on mine now, trying to comfort me. "I understand your... frustration. Sometimes these things take a bit of practice. You can't just flip a switch and be happy all of the time, but you have to at least try. Put in some effort. Okay?"

     What could it hurt? Maybe Ezra will notice my positive attitude and accept me as his mate.

     I shake my head at the silly thought.

     If I am going to try my hand at being an optimist, I'll do it for me, first and foremost.

     With that decision made, I look to Dr.Paullini.

     "Okay. I'll give it a shot."

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     Optimism, optimism, optimism,

     The word is like a freaking chant in my head, bouncing off the walls of my skull like a ball. It echoes through my body.

     I'm trying to remind myself of Paullini's advice as I pull the sheets from another bed, tossing the silky white fabric into the enormous laundry bag I carry with me. It slinks into the bag with the others.

     Next comes the pillow cases, those are easily removed and shoved in with the rest of the laundry before I shuffle into another yet another room.

     I have become very familiar with the pack house through all of my days of scrubbing it squeaky clean. Sometimes I wonder why the omegas are forced to be maids, probably because being an omega gets you punished and no one wants to do their own chores because their too lazy.

     Am I being punished for being a crazy person?

     The answer would be yes.

     As I strip yet another bed, I decide to say the word aloud in order to decay my negative thoughts. After all, no one's around anyway.

     "Optimism. Optimism. Optimism. Optimism." I breath, trying to shove the bedding into the giant sack as fast as possible.

     Hey, maybe this is actually working. I'm starting to feel the slightest bit better.

     I begin my trek down the enormous staircase to the main level. The sooner I have these dirty sheets in the wash, the sooner I can finish mopping this whole house.

     When I stroll through the immense foyer, laundry bag heavily slung over my shoulder, I don't look where I'm going.

     I bump into what should be a brick wall, completely unrelenting where it stands. Then that telltale spicy musk flutters my senses tells me otherwise. Brick walls don't smell like Ezra.

     A velvet, toasty warm current spread through my veins. The only thing I can compare it to is sliding on a pair of silky pajamas after taking them out of the drier.

     I crave it like a drug. Stupid, stupid mate bond.

     Peering up into a sea of lemon tinted eyes, I find Ezra looking determined and... pissed?

     "We need to talk. Now."

     Suddenly I know that my optimism is straight out the window.

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