Big Bad Wolfie

After the dress, it was hair and makeup and this and that and all this stuff that actually did end up taking most of the day.

  I didn't get to look in the mirror much this whole time, but I caught a glimpse of myself in a window on our way to my aunt and uncle's office — which Jason has taken over — and I don't look terrible.

It's not what I would have done for myself — the makeup's a little heavy — but it could have been worse.

I will be wiping some of it off, though. They made my freckles disappear under all this concealer! That was probably the point, but I look weird without them. Like I'm my evil twin with really clear skin or something. Not to mention the blush. They went crazy with it. I look like a clown that just got complemented on my shoes, but they said, and I quote, "we've got to add some color to those lifeless cheeks."

Well I'm sorry, not enough blood flows through my veins for that.

The eyes are pretty loud too. Although, I'm afraid if I try to wipe off the blue-purple hombre thing going on, it will ruin everything and make me look even more like a clown. And that's not the look I'm going for either.

  The hair's fine. It's just two simple french braids running down over my shoulder and stopping near the middle of my back. It really makes all the different colors I have running through my hair look beautiful. The style's nothing too extreme. What they wanted to do at first though, was. They were so adamant about wanting to dye my crazy colored dark brown, nearly black hair, BLONDE. Blonde! Out of all shades! They ranted about how great it would be for the look and how it would make my green eyes pop and blah blah blah. First of all, my eyes aren't always green. Second of all. . .

  . . . Well, I just have no desire to be a blonde.

  And I'm afraid of commitment and change so I keep my hair the same forever, but that has very little to do with it.

  I literally had to pin the hair stylist's wrists behind her back to keep her from doing it. The warriors and Blondie tried to stop me(this also took up quite a bit of time) but I was not letting go until I knew for sure my hair wasn't getting dyed.

  And now, here we are. Walking down the hall to meet Wolfie. Hair still perfectly brown and rainbow.

  I wonder what he'll think.

  No I don't. I don't care.

  . . . Yes I do.

  But he will never EVER know that.

  Blondie knocked on the door.

  "Who is it?" Wolfie called from inside.

  "It's Emily."

  So Blondie's name is Emily.

  "Come in," he responded.

  We did as he said and opened the door. I looked around and noticed he hasn't done much to the office. He's sitting at the larger of the two desks — my aunt's — and he's moved it to the center of the room. There's also a bunch of papers — probably her stuff — that fill the trash can next to him.

Well, at least now my aunt's desk is finally getting cleaned out.

That's pretty much it of what he changed. My uncle's things haven't even been touched.

  We stepped into the room and found him looking down at a couple of documents. I recognize a few of them as my aunt's, and others I don't recognize at all.

  Blondie — or, Emily placed her hand at the small of my back and ushered me forward until I was in front of his desk. My eyes wonder down to some of his papers while he's busy.

  "I'll be done in just a second." He glanced up at us, then went back to his work. "I just need to —" he stopped and looked up again, seeming a little star struck. ". . . Finish this."

  Ha.

sat there staring at me for a bit. Eyes unblinking and trained

  None of his people seemed

with

it was giving me

He blinked. "Right! Wait, what time is it?" He checked his watch. "Four thirty two! We won't have any

  "Yes, alpha."

and there stood Happy, the

did he

I could even think twice about it, he was

his papers, and I'm just now noticing that he's not wearing what he was before. Now he's wearing black slacks and a white button

  Yum.

not even mad at that one. The way that shirt fits is not doing

grabbed his jacket, and I watched the muscles flex in his back and

  YUM!!

Okay, that one made me feel a little like a

He started making his long strides towards the door and grabbed my arm on the way, dragging

Stupid

  "Geez, how do you walk so fast?" I questioned, annoyed

up," he threw over his shoulder instead of

me? You can get back to me on that after you put on a pair

waiting a while from that. Might as well just speed up now," he

  Oh

yanked me forward, cutting off my mental

own feet. Stupid heels. We got to the stairs outside the house, and he started heading down them. Very quickly. I stepped down the

I waited a

  Nothing.

  What

peaked an eye

off the ground. I turned my head to see Jason, still with his hand around my forearm, but now, the other is wrapped around my waste, keeping me from crashing into the ground(because of course, what kind of hate-love story doesn't have someone falling helplessly into another someone's arms *intense eye roll*). He hasn't picked me back up, so we're still in this sort

Not frail, yet, we're here. With me hanging relatively helpless

Sounds like something a frail person would

I

Nevertheless, butterflies exploded in my

This is

They're beautiful.

I hate

gaze? This has never happened before. Is this all because of the stupid mate bond? That's how it works? It just makes him completely

And. . .

And beautiful.

And amazing

And —

undeniable beauty in his eyes and ability to make my

through the motions of things to fit in. You've seen nothing amazingly special about him he's courageous enough to act on. My reasoning: he took over a house to please his power hungry werewolf

in your life FOREVER! He is the most bestest, perfectest, amazingest thing in the universe. No matter how impeccably stupid and hard he is to get along