An hour and a half later, I was ready and waiting for him in our living room. I sat on the couch with my legs curled under me and watched the flames dance in the fireplace. They were mesmerizing and watching them kept me from thinking about anything too heavily. The doorbell rang right on time, breaking through my mind. I sighed heavily and got up to answer it.
When I opened the door, there stood Wells. Dressed in freshly pressed jeans and a deep blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows. In his one hand, he held a small bouquet of wildflowers that he practically shoved towards me. I took them automatically and opened the door wider for him.
He walked in and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, "You look absolutely stunning tonight, Clarke."
"Thank you, Wells," I said, quietly. "Let me just place these in some water and we can go."
I turned to head to the kitchen, but was stopped when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I stiffened when he bent down and kissed the side of my neck. My body shivered at the touch, but I felt nothing emotionally. He sighed and let me go. I walked into the kitchen and he followed me.
"How was your day, beautiful," he asked and smiled wolfishly.
"The usual," I replied as I filled up a vase. "I finished the last painting for the gallery opening today."
"That's wonderful," he replied. "When's the opening?"
"Um, next Friday, I think," I said. "Rachel wants the work there by the end of this week, though. Raven should have my truck ready by then."
"You know, I could drive you down there, if you'd like."
I shook my head and gave him a small smile, "That's nice of you, Wells, but your dad keeps you pretty busy at the office."
"I think I could probably persuade him to giving me the day off," he said with a grin. "You know, make it a little holiday for the two of us."
"Maybe," I said as I arranged the bouquet in the vase. "Are you ready to go?"
He stood up and smiling down at me and replied, "Absolutely. You're going to love it."
"Can't wait," I said and we walked out of the front door.
He held the passenger side door open for me and I glided in. I barely had time to pull the dress completely in before he shut the door. I sighed and took some calming breaths as I pulled the seatbelt over me. He got in and started the car. The radio blared to life and I had to stop myself from turning the volume down.
"Wells," I said. "Can you please turn the radio down? It's kinda loud."
"What," he asked, grinning at me.
"The radio," I said louder. "Can you turn it down?"
"I love this song," he said, ignoring me and turned it up louder.
I growled under my breath, clenching my hands tightly, as he turned the car around and we drove down the hill. Fifteen minutes later, we were pulling onto a deeply rutted road that threw me this way and that, further souring my mood. We were indeed, going to the mill pond and I started to feel sullen and angry.
He stopped the car in front of the pond, illuminating the mill that was on the other side. I unbuckled and waited impatiently for him to open the door for me. Instead, he popped the trunk and started pulling things out of it. I looked behind me, but I couldn't tell what he was doing. He slammed the trunk, making me jump and wandered off a bit to the side. I growled menacingly and opened the door. I stepped out and slammed the door forcibly. He looked up from what he was doing and I could see the scowl on his face.
Instead of saying anything, he turned back to what he was doing and I could see him lighting a couple of lanterns and laying them across from one another. I walked over and saw that he was laying out a picnic dinner.
"You were supposed to wait in the car, Clarke," he said, growling slightly.
"I waited as long as I could, Wells," I replied, icily. "You should know better by now that I don't like to wait."
He stood up and glared at me, "Well, you know better than to cross me."
I scoffed and said, "Are you really going to get mad because I got out of the car without you, Wells? That's childish."
He glared at me a moment and then suddenly he relaxed and smiled, "No, of course not, Clarke. I just didn't want you to see the surprise I had planned for you. For us."
"If that's the case, I apologize for ruining it," I said with a small smile. "What's all this?"
His smile turned into a grin and he helped me onto the blanket, "Since this is a momentous occasion, I had our cook prepare your favorite foods."
"Burgers, fries, and pizza," I said, jokingly.
He forced a laugh and replied, "That would be silly, Clarke. Nope. Cook made some kind of rabbit stew, some pasta, bread, steak, and some kind of desert. All Italian. Your favorite."
"Oh, that's wonderful, Wells," I said. "Did he give you anything to drink with the meal."
"Yeah, he did," Wells said shrugging. "Some kind of red wine. I don't know. But it's back in the car. I don't really care for wine and honestly, beer goes with everything. So, I brought some beer."
"Beer," I said, miffed. "Beer's just great. It's perfect, babe."
"Awesome," he said, gleefully. "Well, let's eat. I'm starving."
"Sure," I said and waited for him to pull out the food containers.
He didn't and I looked at him pointedly, but he just smiled and stared at me. I choked down a growl and took everything out of the basket. Everything was already split in two, so I just separated them. I leaned over him to reach for the beer and I heard him inhale deeply and my body shuddered in revulsion. He probably thought it was for another reason and I could smell that he was already becoming aroused. I pulled back quickly and handed him one of the bottles. He twisted the top off and guzzled it down, letting out a huge belch. Now that I'd already served him, he reached for another one as he opened up one of the containers. He took a sniff and made a face of disgust and tossed it aside. He opened up another one, the Fiorentina steak, and practically shoved it in his mouth whole. I looked away in disgust and opened up my container of braised rabbit stew. It smelled delicious and I eagerly started eating it. I avoided looking at Wells as he tore through his portions like an animal.
"Hey, Clarke," he said, mouth still full of food. "Are you going to eat that?"
"What," I asked looking at him and wishing I hadn't.
"Your steak. Are you going to eat that?"
"I was planning to, yes," I replied warily.
"I'm sorry, but I'm still hungry. I'm just going to take it, okay," he replied and snatched it before I had a chance to protest.
I growled low and my hand clenched the spoon I was holding until my knuckles were white, "I said that I was going to eat it, Wells. You still have your ziti and braised rabbit stew by you. You could have eaten that."
He made a face at me and replied, "They both smelled like shit. I'm not going to eat shit."
"Seriously?! Your cook took the time to prepare this food and you're just going to waste it. The stew and the ziti are both very good. You should really try them," I said, trying to calm myself down.
"I don't eat shit, Clarke," he said petulantly.
"Fine," I said angrily. "Whatever."
"Don't take that tone with me, Clarke," he said angrily.
"What tone," I asked, still angry. "You mean the tone that I use when you're acting like a uncivilized, idiotic man child. That tone?"
"You have no right to talk to me in that manner," he said, trying to stare me down.
"Excuse me?! I don't have the right to tell you the truth," I said, refusing to glance away. "You are an overbearing, unimaginative, stupid, idiotic, insolent, callous, rude, man child! You wouldn't know which shoe goes on which foot if it wasn't labeled for you! If Jaha wasn't your father, you wouldn't have a job! No one in their right mind would hire such an imbecile! I can't believe that I've dated you for four fucking years!"
He growled menacingly at me and stood up to tower over me. I got to my feet and met him glare for glare. He tried to intimidate me with his size, but I ignored it and growled threateningly. I noticed him clenching and unclenching his hands as he tried to decide what to do. He suddenly raised his arm and slapped me across the face. I went sprawling on the ground, my head hitting it. I pushed myself up and spit out blood. He had split the inside of my cheek opened. I growled even louder and got back onto my feet. I leaned back a bit and kicked him in the groin. He howled at the pain and doubled over. I grabbed his head and slammed it on my knee. I felt his nose break and he toppled over.
I ran over to the car to try and get away, but he tackled me and slammed me into the door. My head hit the window, shattering it. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me from the car and closer to the pond. I struggled to get loose, but his grip was too tight. He threw me in front of him, by the waters edge, and started punching me. I pushed him off of me and followed him, landing on top and started my own assault. He slammed his fist into the side of my head that hit the window and I howled out in pain. He took that moment to grab my throat and slammed me into the ground. He started squeezing and I found it hard to breathe. He was straddling me so I couldn't use my legs. Since I couldn't dislodge his hand, I reached up and pressed my thumbs into his eyes. He let go as he clutched them and I was able to shove him off of me. I ran again and then there was a howl that chilled me to my bones. I looked back and saw him shift. I skidded to a stop and knew that I had to fight him. Really fight him.
I shifted and charged at him. He lunged at me and I side stepped, slicing my claws along his side. He howled in pain and we both turned to face one another. He came at me again and when I tried to get out of the way, he turned his head and clamped down on my shoulder. The pain was intense and he wouldn't let go. Instead, he started to shake his head, clamping down harder and I could feel my shoulder start to crack from the pressure. I took a deep breath and moved my head until I could clamp my own jaws around his neck. I bit down hard and I could feel his blood start to drain down my throat. I let go immediately and he dropped me like a stone. He staggered back, looking at me and slowly shifted. He stared at me in shock as his hands went around his throat to try and stem the blood flow. I shifted immediately and ran to the picnic. I tore the blanket and ran back to him. He had fallen, but was still holding on to his neck.
"I'm sorry," I said, crying. "I'm so sorry, Wells."
He opened his mouth a few times to try and say something, but couldn't. I wrapped the piece of blanket around his neck and held it there. I held it there even after he had taken his last breath. I continued to hold it there all night, crying.