Love Is Flower Like

Chapter 15

Edited 05/30/21

Meadow sat quietly and took in the environment around her. She was sitting on a brick red couch, her hands grasping at the rough material underneath her fingertips. Her eyes glanced left and landed on Sam, who was staring at her with a contemplative gaze. She could hear someone, Emily, in the kitchen rummaging around. Pots and pans clattered together, and cupboards slammed shut and softly opened. There was a lingering smell in the air. It smelled like fruit, blueberries, and sugar. Muffins, Meadow concluded. She clenched her eyes shut as the barrage of stimulation entered her newly sensitive senses. It was overwhelming and she didn't know what to do about it.

The sound of feet slapping against the wooden floor pounded against her head until a soft thunk of glass hitting wooden laminate disrupted it. A hand was placed on her shoulders, causing her to flinch back and sit flush against the back of the couch. Emily stood in front of her with an apologetic smile and a guarded look in her eyes. She gestured towards a glass of water sitting idly on the small coffee table in front of Meadow and said, "I thought you might want something to cool your nerves. A lot of the boys, when they first phase, are on edge and the water seems to help. If only a little."

Meadow nodded her head in acknowledgement and accepted the offered drink. She gulped the cool liquid, refusing to take a moment to catch her breath. Her mind was still scrambled from earlier and she wasn't ready to converse with Sam, one of her least favorite persons in the world at the moment. She'd rather be in her room reading a book or at the beach watching the water sway back and forth than be in the same room as him. Emily grabbed the now empty cup and returned to the kitchen, only to come back out with a full glass. Emily Young was a tall reservation woman, though she wasn't from the Quileute tribe. She was from one of the neighboring tribes, the Makah tribe.

She had pin straight black hair that traveled down her back and ended above her waist. Her eyes were a dark-brown and full of mirth and care. She had a protective aura that surrounded her at every moment and a smile adorned her face as much as the sun shined through the open blinds covering the windows. The most prominent feature was the scar on the left side of her face. It started right under her left eye, making it droop just the slightest bit, and ended on the bottom of her cheek. It didn't take from her beauty, though. If anything, it added to it. She was Sam's fiancé, his imprint.

Meadow made sure not to stare at Emily's scar for too long. Not only was it rude, but Sam had a huge problem with it. The first time she'd seen the woman, she had blatantly stared at it due to shock. After a few seconds had gone by, a rumble started in Sam's throat and came out as a snarl when she refused to move her gaze. Hearing the threat in the noise, she had avoided eye contact with the woman and had meekly entered the residence. She was sure to never do that again.

Emily left the room shortly after setting the water on the table, leaving Meadow to face her fears. They sat in silence for a while, so long that Meadow wondered if he was waiting for her to start talking first. However, he was in for a rude awakening; she wasn't going to. It wasn't in her nature to be so confrontational unless she was emotional, and she wasn't emotional at the time. She was pocketing her emotions so as not to combust into a hairy wolf again.

"Do you have any questions for me?" Sam asked unexpectedly. His gaze failed to waver when her eyes met his. She shook her head and moved her gaze to her hands. She fiddled with them unconsciously, but when she realized what she was doing, she stopped. She wasn't going to let him know how nervous she was about it all.

"Usually, newer ones are jumping all over the place. Jared, Paul, Jacob, and Embry all did. Paul was the worst," he joked with her. She didn't know if it was his way of trying to get her to open up by getting on her good side, but it wasn't going to work. Meadow was making sure of it. Still, the image of Paul moving about in frustration and getting all worked up because he was confused caused a small smile to slip onto her face before it melted away a second later. She was still angry with him, with everyone who had kept her in the dark for so long.