Chapter 6 - Sylvia 3
Submitted June 28, 2009 Updated June 29, 2009 Status Incomplete | When tourists arrive in Anchor Cove, no one knows what else might come with them. Sylvia Forrester befriends a very odd, yet attractive, outsider.
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Chapter 6 - Sylvia 3
Chapter 6 - Sylvia 3
I couldn’t believe it. He was...he was a werewolf? No, he was using some kind of illusion to mess with my head. But how did he do that? I didn’t see any harnesses or anything like that. It was all real. It was all so very real. I peeked from around the corner into his room. He was already unpacking his things and putting them away neatly. He must’ve sensed that I was watching because he laughed and said, “I like your house Sylvia. It has a lot of unique touches.”
I swirled around and slid down the wall. I was in for it. I had a freaking werewolf living right down the hall from me. How much weirder could it get. He walked out of his room and stared at me. “Are you ready to eat?” I forced a smile at him. “Yeah, what are we going to eat?” he replied. “Well, someone tried to be a chef and make something in my kitchen while I was knocked out.” I retorted.
“Oh right! My soup! I left it on boil. It should be done now.” He raced past me and flew down the stairs. I took my time walking down the stairs trying to convince myself that what was happening was all real. By the time I had gotten into the kitchen, he had already set up two bowls of soup and two glasses of water. “Have a seat and enjoy.” He said pulling out my chair. Annoyed, but flattered, I walked past him and pulled out a chair and sat down.
He looked at me with confused eyes and then shrugged and sat down. I took my spoon a stirred it in the soup bowl. He greedily ate his food as if it was the best tasting thing on Earth. “You going to eat that?” he asked gulping down water. “Eventually,” I replied. “What’s your name?” I let the spoon clatter against the porcelain bowl. “Cimmerio James.” He sat his cup down and belched. “Excuse me.” He said before eating again.
“What kind of stupid name is that? Cimmerio?” I teased. His spoon clattered against his bowl as he glared at me. “Well what kind of name is Sylvia? It sounds like some kind of pain medicine.” He pointed at me with his long fingers. “Well how about Cimmerio? Sounds like a freaking infection!” I cried. “And for your information, I was named after my Grandmother.”
He scoffed and replied, “I was named after my Grandfather.” I rolled my eyes and picked up my spoon. Unaware that it had been in his soup, I stuck it in my mouth. Just as I did, the most amazing taste wrapped itself around my tongue. I swear it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. “Oh my God!” I cried. “What? You want to insult my soup, too!” he replied. I shook my head and scooped up a bunch of vegetables in my spoon and ate it.
“This...this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted! What did you put in here?” I asked. My eyes were wide and I my mouth was chewing away ate his delicious meal. “Um, it’s a family secret. I can’t tell you.” he said. “You made this? How did you make something so awesomelysupersensationalistic?” I picked up the bowl and scooped everything into my mouth. “Awesomely what?”He squinted at me.
He smirked as I finished off the soup. I licked around the rim of the bowl waiting to get more. “I want more!” I shouted at him. “There is no more.” He replied. “What?” I felt my heart stop. “You ate it all. Well, we ate it all.” He said. “But there was a big giant pot on the stove.” I whined. “Yeah, but I only put in a few things. All the extra space keeps the flavors mixing.” He leaned back in his chair.
I wanted to smack him in the head with my chair and demand where the rest of the soup was. It probably wouldn’t do me much good, though. Who knew? Werewolves can cook. I’m learning new stuff everyday.
Cimmerio had washed all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. I was in the living room sitting on the couch hoping that I could talk to him. He sat on the sofa directly in front of me. We were separated by a coffee table and air. “So.” I clapped my hands together. “You’re a werewolf? How...you know...how did you...um,” I was so confused that I didn’t know how to say it. “How did I become a werewolf? That’s an easy answer. I couldn’t keep my friend down there in my pants.” He crossed his legs, placed his hands under his head and leaned back on the sofa.
“You can actually do that?” My eyes would never return to their normal size again. “What sex? I thought everyone could do it.” He squinted at me. “Not that but transfer the curse thing like that. I didn’t know it was possible. I didn’t know that any of this was possible.” I scratched through my hair trying to believe it all.
“Yeah. You could think of it as an STD.” he replied. He seemed completely calm with the fact that he was a werewolf. But he had most likely spent years coping with it, so it didn’t bother him anymore. “When did you, you know, get it on with a werewolf?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “The year was 1587. I was 17 at the time and I was also very naïve.” He answered. “1587? Why does that year ring a bell?” I questioned myself. I closed my eyes to think of the answer.
“They now use the term the Lost Colony to tie back to the year 1587.” He answered the question for me. “You were part of the lost colony?” He was like a walking history book. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Well, how did the Lost Colony become the Lost Colony?” I was on the edge of the sofa now. He sighed and rubbed his head. “Um, I think they drowned.” He finally said after a minute.
“Drowned? Well that’s not very interesting.” I pouted. “Well, put about 115 people on a plot of land, let them run out of food, and then see what’ll happen.” Cimmerio laughed. “How can you laugh about something like that? Weren’t you with your parents?” I seemed to have struck a nerve because he automatically stopped laughing and bit his lower lip. He twirled a small lock of his hair around his finger.
He was looking at nothing in specific; just staring into space. His eyes didn’t even blink. I snapped at him. Nothing. I whistled at him. Still nothing. “Cimmerio? Cimmerio?” I called to him. He just sat there. I stood up and slowly walked beside him. I sat down and rested my hand gently on his shoulder. “Cimmerio?” I called softly. He woke out of his trance. “Huh, what?” he turned his head and looked at me.
“You...” I trailed off as his large, innocent brown eyes glistened with sadness. He was...extremely attractive. His oval shaped face was complimented by a set of full, luscious lips. They looked so tender and kissable. His high cheek bones made his manliness jump out at you. He had just a light touch of bristle hair on his chin. He had straight locks of brown hair coming down reaching his neck. He had a middle part made, but he had it pushed back. He was gorgeous. Just like an Abercrombie model. His skin had just a spot of tan covering it. His shoulder was firm and muscular. His arms looked strong. His body itself was a wonderland of muscle.
My mind was like scrambled eggs. I couldn’t think. I just realized that I wasn’t breathing. I met eyes with him again. “You, um, you spaced out a bit.” I said quietly. His eyes never left mine. “Yeah, I don’t to like talk about my parents a lot.” I nodded my head understandingly. “No problem.” Was it the animal that was attracting me? Whatever it was, I liked the feeling.
I swirled around and slid down the wall. I was in for it. I had a freaking werewolf living right down the hall from me. How much weirder could it get. He walked out of his room and stared at me. “Are you ready to eat?” I forced a smile at him. “Yeah, what are we going to eat?” he replied. “Well, someone tried to be a chef and make something in my kitchen while I was knocked out.” I retorted.
“Oh right! My soup! I left it on boil. It should be done now.” He raced past me and flew down the stairs. I took my time walking down the stairs trying to convince myself that what was happening was all real. By the time I had gotten into the kitchen, he had already set up two bowls of soup and two glasses of water. “Have a seat and enjoy.” He said pulling out my chair. Annoyed, but flattered, I walked past him and pulled out a chair and sat down.
He looked at me with confused eyes and then shrugged and sat down. I took my spoon a stirred it in the soup bowl. He greedily ate his food as if it was the best tasting thing on Earth. “You going to eat that?” he asked gulping down water. “Eventually,” I replied. “What’s your name?” I let the spoon clatter against the porcelain bowl. “Cimmerio James.” He sat his cup down and belched. “Excuse me.” He said before eating again.
“What kind of stupid name is that? Cimmerio?” I teased. His spoon clattered against his bowl as he glared at me. “Well what kind of name is Sylvia? It sounds like some kind of pain medicine.” He pointed at me with his long fingers. “Well how about Cimmerio? Sounds like a freaking infection!” I cried. “And for your information, I was named after my Grandmother.”
He scoffed and replied, “I was named after my Grandfather.” I rolled my eyes and picked up my spoon. Unaware that it had been in his soup, I stuck it in my mouth. Just as I did, the most amazing taste wrapped itself around my tongue. I swear it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. “Oh my God!” I cried. “What? You want to insult my soup, too!” he replied. I shook my head and scooped up a bunch of vegetables in my spoon and ate it.
“This...this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted! What did you put in here?” I asked. My eyes were wide and I my mouth was chewing away ate his delicious meal. “Um, it’s a family secret. I can’t tell you.” he said. “You made this? How did you make something so awesomelysupersensationalistic?” I picked up the bowl and scooped everything into my mouth. “Awesomely what?”He squinted at me.
He smirked as I finished off the soup. I licked around the rim of the bowl waiting to get more. “I want more!” I shouted at him. “There is no more.” He replied. “What?” I felt my heart stop. “You ate it all. Well, we ate it all.” He said. “But there was a big giant pot on the stove.” I whined. “Yeah, but I only put in a few things. All the extra space keeps the flavors mixing.” He leaned back in his chair.
I wanted to smack him in the head with my chair and demand where the rest of the soup was. It probably wouldn’t do me much good, though. Who knew? Werewolves can cook. I’m learning new stuff everyday.
Cimmerio had washed all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. I was in the living room sitting on the couch hoping that I could talk to him. He sat on the sofa directly in front of me. We were separated by a coffee table and air. “So.” I clapped my hands together. “You’re a werewolf? How...you know...how did you...um,” I was so confused that I didn’t know how to say it. “How did I become a werewolf? That’s an easy answer. I couldn’t keep my friend down there in my pants.” He crossed his legs, placed his hands under his head and leaned back on the sofa.
“You can actually do that?” My eyes would never return to their normal size again. “What sex? I thought everyone could do it.” He squinted at me. “Not that but transfer the curse thing like that. I didn’t know it was possible. I didn’t know that any of this was possible.” I scratched through my hair trying to believe it all.
“Yeah. You could think of it as an STD.” he replied. He seemed completely calm with the fact that he was a werewolf. But he had most likely spent years coping with it, so it didn’t bother him anymore. “When did you, you know, get it on with a werewolf?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “The year was 1587. I was 17 at the time and I was also very naïve.” He answered. “1587? Why does that year ring a bell?” I questioned myself. I closed my eyes to think of the answer.
“They now use the term the Lost Colony to tie back to the year 1587.” He answered the question for me. “You were part of the lost colony?” He was like a walking history book. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Well, how did the Lost Colony become the Lost Colony?” I was on the edge of the sofa now. He sighed and rubbed his head. “Um, I think they drowned.” He finally said after a minute.
“Drowned? Well that’s not very interesting.” I pouted. “Well, put about 115 people on a plot of land, let them run out of food, and then see what’ll happen.” Cimmerio laughed. “How can you laugh about something like that? Weren’t you with your parents?” I seemed to have struck a nerve because he automatically stopped laughing and bit his lower lip. He twirled a small lock of his hair around his finger.
He was looking at nothing in specific; just staring into space. His eyes didn’t even blink. I snapped at him. Nothing. I whistled at him. Still nothing. “Cimmerio? Cimmerio?” I called to him. He just sat there. I stood up and slowly walked beside him. I sat down and rested my hand gently on his shoulder. “Cimmerio?” I called softly. He woke out of his trance. “Huh, what?” he turned his head and looked at me.
“You...” I trailed off as his large, innocent brown eyes glistened with sadness. He was...extremely attractive. His oval shaped face was complimented by a set of full, luscious lips. They looked so tender and kissable. His high cheek bones made his manliness jump out at you. He had just a light touch of bristle hair on his chin. He had straight locks of brown hair coming down reaching his neck. He had a middle part made, but he had it pushed back. He was gorgeous. Just like an Abercrombie model. His skin had just a spot of tan covering it. His shoulder was firm and muscular. His arms looked strong. His body itself was a wonderland of muscle.
My mind was like scrambled eggs. I couldn’t think. I just realized that I wasn’t breathing. I met eyes with him again. “You, um, you spaced out a bit.” I said quietly. His eyes never left mine. “Yeah, I don’t to like talk about my parents a lot.” I nodded my head understandingly. “No problem.” Was it the animal that was attracting me? Whatever it was, I liked the feeling.
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