Caleb peers at me, at my face hidden behind my thick bangs. "Did you have glasses in the forest where I rescued you?" he asked.
I nod in reply, "Yes, but don't worry about trying to find it. I have this one," I finger my thick lenses. He seems unsatisfied, his facial expression of sadness.
"Like this," he comments sadly, "I can't see your cute eyes that well. Is there any way you could go without them?"
I shake my head, my cheeks flushing once more. He stops completely, bending down so he can be at my level. Quietly, halting me with a gentle touch, he observes me, examining my face. He frowns, his sparkling eyes creasing a little in disappointment.
"Berenice," he says, "You look very different from when I first met you."
Yeah, I think inwardly, probably you didn't realize how ugly I am until now. "Disappointed?" I ask scornfully.
"No," he smiles, "You are just as beautiful as you were yesterday."
I choke on my own breath, shock coursing through me. No one, let alone a shockingly handsome man, has ever called me beautiful, or even pretty.
"It's just," he complains, "That your bangs cover half of your face, and your glasses cover your eyes. It's almost as if you're hiding from me," His facial expressions bend in a frown.
I glare at him, my face now almost permanently red. This conversation really is introducing a lot of firsts for me, and a ton of embarrassment.
"Oh really?" I ask, trying to make my voice indifferent, uninterested.
"Yeah," he says, deep in thought. We both are silent, walking together calmly, neither of us knowing exactly what to say next.
"Hey Caleb?" I finally speak, surprising Caleb a little.
He glances at me, his face of bafflement at the fact that I am starting the conversation this time around.
"Yes?" he replies, "ask me anything." His face perks up a little.
There are so many questions I wish to ask him. For one, why is he insisting on calling me beautiful? What sort of lunatic man would think I am beautiful in the first place? Why the crap do werewolves actually exist?
But instead, this question just has to escape my lips.
"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I ask bitingly, mentally slapping myself in the face for wasting an opportunity to ask a better question.
However, Caleb doesn't seem to be as disappointed as I am.
"You really want to know?" he warns, "Even I don't truly know why, and what I do know might upset you."
I reel back in confusion. "Um, sure," I nod slowly.
That was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but if he has an answer, I want to hear it.
"Okay," he says, "Well, let me start off by saying that werewolves are very similar to wolves in that they have a very keen sense of smell."
"No duh," I murmur under my breath, earning a brief scowl from him.
"Work with me, okay?" he asks. I just nod again, dubious.
"A werewolf, in fact, has an even better nose in many ways. They are able to associate an individual person with their "signature" scent, an underlying smell every creature in the world has. They are all a little different, and never changes from the moment the creature is born," he explains slowly, his voice melodious and smooth.
"What does that have to do with-" I say, only to feel a single hand cover my moving lips.
He looks at me, stunning me with his seriousness, tugging me to stay silent.
"Generally," he continues, "all humans have sweet smells. However, yours is extra attractive. I have no idea why, but your aroma is very appealing to me."
"Is that because I am your mate?" I ask curiously.
He shakes his head.
"It is not just a mating thing," he says, looking away.
"This was even before I mated with you."
At my angle, I can see his beautifully blue hair, sparkling in the bright sun. As he ponders, his eyebrows narrow a little in deep concentration. Finally, he turns to me, his expression hard.
"I don't know why, but I can't stay away from you," he confesses, though with a straight face.
His sparkling eyes look ashamedly at the floor, knowing that his words are not the ones I want to hear.
The world crumbles around me, hope obliterated.
"Are you saying that I am stuck with you for the rest of my life?" I ask miserably.
"I really don't know. That is why, after school, I am going to take you back to the mansion so we can find out."
"What??!" I exclaim, my interjection scaring even the birds away.
He looks at me, his emerald eyes creasing in sorrow.
"I knew you wouldn't be happy," he comments, his face reflecting my own, "But we both have to work through this. Maybe, in some way, my friends can help."
He grabs me once more for a spine-crushing hug, sending electricity through my body.
"Why can't you be more accepting of me?" he complains, his voice teasing, "Am I not lovable enough?" His face perks up immediately, his tone changing slightly.
Not knowing quite what I am doing, I raise my hand as if to slap him. I bring my hand rushing forward to meet his arrogant cheek, only to be stopped by a blur of movement.
"You have to do better than that," Caleb grins, "If you want to slap a werewolf." He pulls me closer, his hot breath dawdling on my cheek. "Here is your punishment," he places one muscled hand on my chin, tilting my head up slightly.
My heart beats faster as he brushes his plump lips across my blushing cheeks.
"What are you doing?!" I yowl, jumping away from his smirking form.
Quickly I race away from him, my voice high and screeching. He just smiles at the obvious disconcerting hiding underneath my anger. Without a word, he meanders ahead of me, never looking back.
For he knows I will follow.