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9
Lerin
Somehow, I was talked into a limo.
I didn’t want it. It gave the wrong impression of what I wanted from her, and what she should expect from me. My family was disgustingly rich, yes, and I had money of my own that could buy five streets of houses in her city, but that wasn’t why I wanted her to want me.
If she was going to agree to this, and to marry me, then I needed to know it was over an actual connection. I couldn’t trust a woman who just wanted me for financial security, especially since that kind of girl would resent me for rejecting the throne.
In the short time I’d known Olive, I already knew she wasn’t that kind of girl.
I could feel it deep in my bones.
I flew ahead of the car, mirroring the moon in my brightness. The closer I got to Springfield, the better I felt. She was an addiction, a powerful drug that pulled me to her without any sort of rational justification. I was dying to get to her.
My wings thundered against the air as I flew, and I willed my body to move faster. It was almost three in the morning. If I could get there while she was on her way to work, I could save us a whole day of waiting.
She didn’t even like that job. I could ensure she never had to do it again.
Although, I thought I might try to convince her into cooking for me once in a while…
Springfield was bright in the dark of the night. A dome of light pollution surrounded it, making it seem hazy and dreamlike in the distance. I’d only been gone a couple of days, but I was burning to get back there.
If this was what it was like after being around her for a mere few hours, I couldn’t imagine how it could destroy me over time.
The limo was behind, of course, since it had to follow the curves and crossings of the road. Thus, I couldn’t sweep her away immediately, but I was eager to be with her. I was over her street at ten minutes to three, so I plummeted down and quickly changed into my clothes quickly.
As I tugged on my shirt jacket, I could sense her.
Dark chocolate and citrus.
My mouth watered at the memory of kissing her. My imaginings drifted from those sweet lips to the scenes of what I’d do to her eventually. Walking after the scent, I followed it until I realized she wasn’t going to work.
After several unnecessary turns, I caught on to what was happening.
She was avoiding me.
The hunt was making it worse; my brain was now a brick wall of desire that I couldn’t surmount. Her scent was just barely getting stronger, but it was still strong enough to feed my appetite. Feeling rabid, starved, I upped my pace. After turning another corner, I could hear her brisk footsteps at the far end of the street.
“Olive!” I shouted after her.
She turned and glanced my way, the hazel in her eyes heightened by the glow of a nearby streetlamp. I wanted her in my arms.
As I rushed to her, she slipped through the front door of her bakery.
A glass door and a large window made up the front of the shop. If I wanted to, I could just bust through it, claim her, and make her know she was mine.
She’d never trust me again.
I approached the glass and tried to peer through. “Olive?”
“I’m working, leave me alone,” she called out from the back of the shop.
Her voice wasn’t completely steady, like she was trying and failing to build up the courage to make me leave. I didn’t want to go, though.
Did she still not trust me?
After all I’d showed her, did she still think Crystal Glass was made up?
