Alejo

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"You fucking should have told me," Morana swore at me while we stood still, hugging each other in the living room.

She was right, I should have. It probably would have gone better if she had been more prepared. I had tried to get myself to explain the few days that had been leading up to the dinner, but I had never managed to get the words out. It was all just too shameful. Too embarrassing.

I hadn't been able to bring myself to explain how pathetic I actually was.

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"Don't apologies! They are the assholes. Hope you're fine with that I'll never have dinner with them ever again."

I smiled at her words and at how I could feel her hands, which were on my back, fist the fabric of my shirt. It was as if she held onto me in an angry, caring sort of way. It made me feel secure. At least she hadn't given a damn about what I assumed they had told her about me. She hadn't let their words poison her against me.

"That's very fine."

We reheated some leftovers and ate while a movie was going. As we ate, she was on the couch next to me, but that made me feel empty. I needed her closer. Needed to hold on to her and have her center me. Needed to make absolute sure that none of their words had gotten to her.

"Morana," I said when we had both finished eating. "You know that what Astria said isn't true, right? About that I don't care about you. I do view you as a friend. As the best of friends."

Her reaction was better than I had hoped for. It was almost as if she read my mind and knew what I needed in that moment. She moved, so she sat on my lap and leaned her head on my shoulder.

"Of course I know that, silly," she answered. "I know they are just idiots."

I leaned my cheek on the top of her head and held her. "What have I done to deserve to have you in my life?"

"Probably saved the whole earth in your past life," she joked, and I smiled.

She burrowed her head closer into me. Bended her nose up a bit and seemed to be sniffing at my neck.

"What are you doing?" I laughed as it tickled and tried to move away a bit.

"You just smell nice, that's all," she answered and followed my movement so she would be able to have her nose by my neck.

"Yeah?" I said amusedly. "What do I smell like?"

She went quiet for a while and I could feel her taking deep breaths.

"Strawberries," she finally said.

"That's very girly," I answered, and she straightened herself and gave me an annoyed but playful look.

"I'm not done!" She leaned back in and took a few more deep breaths. I felt the heat from them, from her closeness, and knew goosebumps erupted on my skin. "Petrichor."

"What?"

"Petrichor. The smell of sand after rain. And..." she went silent a bit again. One of her hands rested on my shoulder and I moved to take it and then draw circles with my fingers on the back of it. "Tobacco."

"That's an odd combination," I laughed.

"But it fits you perfectly. Sweetness, calmness, and safety."

"Safety?"

"Mmm, that's what tobacco makes me feel. Safe. I don't know why though."

I thought it over a bit. It did sound pretty wonderful and as long as she liked how I smelled, that was all that mattered. As long as she thought of me as sweet, calm and a place for safety, it didn't matter what anyone else thought.

"You also smell nice," I told her and took a deep breath right by her hair.

She straightened herself again and her eyes shone with excitement. "What do I smell like?"

I bent my head down to her neck to smell, just like she had done to me. It really was strange how much stronger her scent was there.

"Old books," I murmured against her skin as I took in her scent. "Orange juice. And... chili."

"Chili doesn't smell of anything," she laughed.

"It does!" I protested. "And that's anyway the best way I can think to describe it."

I straightened myself again and our faces ended up very close to each other. It was then that I realized how intimately we had acted and also how natural it had felt. Like everything was with her. Though this also felt very different.

My eyes wandered down to her lips, and I really wondered if she would taste like she smelled. Maybe only of the orange juice, of curiosity. Because just like she had put traits to the scents, I could as well. The old books were for her kindness, the orange juice for her curiosity, and the chili, of course, stood for her temperament.

The three things about her I treasured the most.

I saw her lick her lips, and it made me swallow. It would be so easy to kiss her and it felt so right to do. Except that it wasn't. It was anything but right.

She wasn't mine. She belonged with someone else. I couldn't start a relationship with her that I knew was doomed to fail. I couldn't stand the thought of getting to taste all of her to one day have it ripped away from me.

I cleared my throat and looked away from her.

"It's late," I said. "We should sleep."

"Yeah," she answered and I could hear the disappointment in her voice, hear that she had wanted to kiss me as much as I had wanted to kiss her.

She didn't say another word, but got off my lap and disappeared into her room. I leaned my head into my hands and sighed. This was all getting too difficult, and I knew it was time I told her about mates. If I didn't, I would probably end up hurting her time and time again at this rate.