Pecan's pov
The day felt like a whirlwind of emotions. I was caught in the middle of a strange, chaotic mix of excitement, frustration, and sadness. It was like a puzzle that didn't quite fit, and I was standing in the middle of it, unsure where the pieces would land.
The news had come that the fumigators were only two houses away from ours, and it was like a weight had been lifted from my chest. Finally, our time in the pack house was coming to an end. I couldn't say I'd hated being here, but it hadn't been easy either. The constant feeling of being out of place, the odd stares, and the knowledge that Paul could walk in here anytime without anyone batting an eye, it all left me feeling... unsettled.
I stood at the window for a moment, gazing out at the lush expanse of the pack lands that stretched beyond the pack house. It was beautiful, sure, but it was not my home. My home was somewhere small and quaint, somewhere with a familiar smell, the echo of my own footsteps filling the rooms. The pack house felt too big, too open.
I sighed and turned away from the window. Soon, I thought. Soon, we can leave this place behind.
With that thought, I made my way downstairs. My feet moved almost automatically as I walked through the grand hallways. I was trying not to think too much about the fact that summer break was coming to an end. I had always loved school; the routine, the structure, the quiet moments between classes when I could simply drift in my own thoughts. But this summer had been different. It had been filled with uncertainties, with the fumigators, pesky neighbors, the pack house, and everything that had happened with Paul.
I shook my head. I couldn't let my mind wander to him right now.
As I made my way down the stairs, my footsteps seemed to echo through the large house. I wasn't exactly sure where I was headed, but I figured I'd go see Noah. He'd been keeping busy with the upcoming camping retreat, something that everyone in the pack had been looking forward to. It was an annual event, and every year, Noah took it upon himself to make sure everything was in order. I needed a distraction, and Noah was always good for that.
I pushed open the door to his office, and there he was, sitting behind his desk, surrounded by piles of papers. He barely looked up when I entered, too immersed in what he was doing to notice my arrival.
"Busy as always," I said with a small smile, leaning against the doorframe.
Noah looked up at me, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, someone's got to make sure the retreat doesn't turn into a disaster," he replied, the teasing edge to his voice unmistakable.
I walked into the room, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear as I took a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Sounds like fun," I said sarcastically, though I couldn't help but appreciate how much effort he put into everything he did. It was one of the reasons I always respected him.
He chuckled, rubbing his temples. "I'm telling you, organizing this thing feels like planning a war sometimes. The food, the tents, the activities, the security... if I miss one thing, I'll hear about it for the next year."
I smiled. "You're not alone, you know. I'm sure you've got it covered."
Noah paused for a moment, giving me a long look. "You're not here just to watch me drown in paperwork, are you?"
I shrugged, trying to suppress a grin. "I figured I could offer moral support."
He raised an eyebrow. "Moral support? In what way?"
I leaned back in my chair, stretching lazily. "Well, I can always distract you. Maybe even organize a few things for you."
He shook his head, chuckling. "I think I'll survive without your help, but thanks."
I laughed softly, and for a moment, it felt like everything was normal again. But then the weight of my thoughts crept back in, tugging at the corners of my mind.
I stood up, deciding it was time to go for a walk. "I think I'll go check out the rest of the house. I haven't had a chance to really look around."
Noah glanced up from his papers. "Alright, but don't get lost in this place. It's huge."
I gave him a playful salute and walked out, the sound of my footsteps lost in the vast, echoing halls.
I couldn't help but feel a little bit like a stranger in this place. The grand rooms, the tall windows, the polished floors; it was all so... overwhelming. I walked aimlessly through the hallways, taking in the lavish decor and ornate furnishings. The pack house was impressive, but it didn't feel like home.
I made my way to one of the rooms near the back of the house, and that's when I heard footsteps behind me.
I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"Paul," I said quietly, keeping my back to him.
There was a pause, and then his voice rang out, low and calm. "Pecan."
I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn't dare meet it. Instead, I kept walking, the sound of his footsteps following me as I tried to push the anger and confusion aside.
"How are you adjusting to the pack house?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
I couldn't tell if he was trying to be polite or if there was something more behind it. But I wasn't in the mood for small talk. "It's fine," I said curtly. "It's not like it's my home anyway."
There was a long pause. I could almost hear the unspoken words between us, the tension hanging thick in the air.
"You don't have to stay here forever, you know," he said, his voice suddenly quieter. "Once the fumigators are done, you can go back to your house."
I clenched my jaw, unwilling to let my emotions show. "I know."
But it wasn't just the fumigators that had me unsettled. It was the fact that he could waltz into this place like it was his own. Well it was his, but...
That he could interact with everyone with such ease while I was left on the sidelines, always a little bit too distant.
I was almost at the stairs when I turned around, facing him for the first time since we'd started talking. "You seem pretty comfortable here," I said, trying to sound indifferent, but my voice was tight.
He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. "It's my pack house," he said simply.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Must be nice," I muttered under my breath.
Paul's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything more. Instead, he stepped closer, and for a moment, I thought he might say something that would break the tension between us. But then he just gave me one last look, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and walked away, disappearing down the hallway.
I watched him go, the heavy feeling in my chest growing stronger. Why did I still care?
With a sigh, I turned back toward the stairs, heading back to the one place I could find some semblance of peace, Noah's room.