11: Bloody Secrets...
Scarlet's POV
"What?" Dad screamed at me as I sat helplessly on our sofa. "He's changing?" I cringed at the word.
"I don't know, dad," I whispered. "I think he finally is."
"Why?" he said quietly, almost like he was talking to himself. "Why now?" Dad paced around the living room, once in a while glaring at Nathan's little old glove. His eyes were full of fright and worry.
"I kissed him," I squeaked, and my dad stopped. This time, his eyes were full of anger. "And... his lip... it was bleeding," I elaborated, and my father's chest began to rise up and down. "I... I didn't know."
Dad looked at me. He had said nothing for several minutes, and I didn't know whether I liked it or that I would prefer him yelling at me, anything. What happens now? We didn't know if Nathan was changing or not, and it was driving me crazy. He might become one of us. I didn't know if I would be happy or scared if that were to happen.
"Does he know?" Dad asked after he sat down on the sofa next to me, his hands rubbing his nervous face. "Does Nathan know?" he said again.
Tears were so close to falling down. "No," I croaked. "He doesn't."
"Go tell him," he said, nearly crying himself.
I shoot my head towards him. "What? Why?"
"He needs to know what he is, Scarlet. Even if he's not changing, there's a part of him that wants to be, that needs to be. If he doesn't know, his father might be in danger... or he might be in danger." And with those words, my father got up and went to his bedroom.
I drove over to Nathan's house. I bet I could even walk to his house if I was blind; I've been there so many times. But this time, I think this might be my last time here. He might never want to see me again.
Nathan's father let me in easily. He approves of me, I think. I slowly went up to Nathan's bedroom, my mind already regretting every squeak I make from the stairs. Soon enough, I was at the door. My heart wanted to jump out of my chest, and my head was starting to throb. Before it was too late, I turn the door knob and looked at Nathan's red face.
He winced at the sound of the door; it needed some oil. But when he saw that it was me, he forced a warm smile. "Hi," he whispered.
"Hi," I said, my voice cracking. Walking into his room, all I smelled when his smelly Axe. I grabbed the nearest chair, with was a wooden one, and sat next to him. I held onto one of his hands, and my other hand was wiping traitor tears that were already falling.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, worried but smiling. "It's only a fever, Scarlet. You don't have to worry. I'll be back soon enough."
"No," I cried. "No, you won't."
Nathan frowned, wincing as he did it. "What do you mean? What do you mean I won't?"
I kissed his hand and he gave me a reassuring squeeze. My tears fell on his hand, which began to hold my cheek, his thumb wiping the wetness against it. "You won't be back," I said. "Not in the same way. Remember when you ask me what I was?" Nathan nodded. "I'm a werewolf, Nathan."
His eyes didn't widen, and he kept his face clear of emotions. He wasn't surprised or anything. After a moment, he said, "I know."
"What?" I said, whipping my head away from his hand. "How?"
YOU ARE READING
Maybe
WerewolfHe was afraid of the storms in her eyes, but somehow, they were meant to be. [ warning: my writing was a complete disaster in 2013. read at your own risk. ]
