Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight or its characters, but I do own the plot and Drake is mine.
"Isabella? Where have you been?" He demanded, holding me in place for a few seconds with his cold grey eyes.
"Hunting." I answered indifferently and made my way to the bathroom, across the expansive bedroom. He glared, but did not move from his position on the four poster bed.
My heels clicked lightly on the hardwood floors.
"You went hunting in high heels?" He continued his questioning from the bedroom, not bothering to raise his voice, sure that I heard every word.
"Drake, I'm a pro. Give me some credit. It's not that difficult. Besides, I was opting for a classy and elegant dinner." I answered sarcastically.
After washing my hands quickly, I slipped back into the bedroom to get something to change into. I glanced at his eyes in lightning speed so that even he wouldn't notice. They remained harsh.
"I don't like it. I don't like you hunting alone all the time. We do this in groups Isabella." His tone was harsh, marred by disapproval. I merely rolled my eyes.
"I can handle it." I said defensively, clearly annoyed.
"I don't doubt that you can. But, that's not how we do things. Why must you always rebel against me?" He continued on his tirade.
"You are my husband, Drake. Not my father. I don't need your permission to feed when I choose." I glared at him angrily and slipped back into the bathroom once I had picked out a satiny black dress.
"Isabella! I'm utterly tired of this. We need to stick together. Would you please do things the way they are supposed to be done? Why are you the only one who has these issues? We are a large coven, we can't have everyone running around doing whatever they want, when they want to." The annoyance in his tone was severe. I showered in seconds and toweled myself dry just as quickly. Slipping into my dress I went out to face him again, truly repulsed.
"We decide what we do and when we do it. Remember? That's one of the main reasons why I married you, so that we could combine our powers and run this gigantic coven together." I reminded him harshly.
"Yes, of course. But, that doesn't make you exceptional. You have to follow the rules too. In fact, you must set the example, Isabella." He leaped up from the bed, and was now inches from my face. The words that left his mouth were laced with anger and malice.
"It's Bella, for the millionth time." I uttered slowly, but with biting contempt.
"Oh stop it. Isabella is your real name. We won't have any of this nickname business. I've told you before, it's childish. It does not suit my wife."
"Drake, what is this about?" I knew his little outburst must have been caused by something other than my prolonged absence, for I knew that time apart from each other was always welcome.
He let out a slow breath and made his way to the bed, leaning on one of the posters, back turned to me. I folded my arms across my chest waiting.
"We're getting some visitors soon." His reply was so quiet; even I could barely hear it.
Title of story comes from Oscar Wilde's poem Panthea.