Dealing With Him

XVI

After being stuck in the hospital for seven days, the pack doctor finally lets me go home once again. It felt weird seeing everyone bow their heads when I passed them and wish for me to get better. I'm their Luna, however, so I should be getting used to it.

"So," Brianna told me, pushing her large reading glasses up as she read about shadow hounds, "It says here how newly transforming shadow hounds will be positive to experience dreams of which they are scared of happening in real life."

I slowly nodded my head and sat in the car, sighing and closing my eyes.

"I was already told that. Continue, though."

Brianna nodded and looked down at the book. Trey sat in the driver's seat and started the car, looking at me quickly before pulling out of the parking lot.

Because our pack was so large, we needed at least two hospitals on the north side and south side. Dylan told me how he was planning to add another hospital for the east side; which is the area that we live in. It all sounded like something from a TV show, I know.

"Oh," Brianna said and I heard her flip a page. "Oh?"

"What?" Trey and I asked at the same time.

"Apparently there have been times where a shadow hound experienced real incidents that were almost exactly like their dreams. But--"

"My life is done for," I muttered, scared. "I might as well say goodbye to life as I know it."

Trey snorted but quickly recovered with a cough. "Sorry."

"But," Brianna repeated, glaring at Trey, "It is most common with fire hounds and water hounds."

I sighed and felt myself relax. I knew there was more to it than that, but it was better than Brianna was trying to make me feel better than tell me the entire truth. Even though that mostly wasn't good, it was better than nothing.

Finally, after talking the entire way to the house, we finally arrived home. I quickly got out of the car and walked to the front door, opening it and looking around.

It was hard to think that I haven't seen this house in just under six weeks because of the kidnapping and the coma. I missed this place... and it's food.

I laid on the couch and closed my eyes, a smiling growing on my face as the scent of burnt log, spice, and morning dew. Three seconds later, I was being attacked with kisses.

"I thought you weren't coming back until Saturday," Dylan said with a smile and sat me up. He quickly pulled me on his lap and laid down once again, rubbing my back.

I smiled lazily, feeling myself getting tired.

"They said I was able to go today," I said and yawned. "Something about how I was healing faster than normal. They told me how instead of it taking three weeks for me to fully heals; it will only take two."

Dylan's smile widened and slowly, his hand went under my shirt and he began rubbing my bare skin, sparks trailing after where he touched. I hummed with relaxation and closed my eyes again.

"Just don't unhook my bra," I mumbled, tired. "I don't trust you."

Dylan chuckled and continued to rub up and down my back. Slowly, I began to fall asleep.

It wasn't long until I woke up with a jolt, looking around quickly. I expected to be in a hospital bed with white walls surrounding me, making me slowly go crazy, but I was in my bedroom with my favourite silk blanket. Dylan was in my bedroom with a book in his hands as he read quietly, one of his hands playing with the ends of my hair.

"It's about time you woke up," Dylan said, not looking at me. "You've been knocked out for thirteen hours."

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked around for my phone. Once I spotted it on the nightstand, I grabbed it and checked the time: 6:40 p.m. I groaned loudly and put my phone back on the stand, burying my face in my pillow.

"Don't fall asleep," Dylan complained and slapped me on the back of my head with his book. "There's soup being made for you downstairs."

I groaned and rubbed my now throbbing head.

Asshole.

"Leave me alone," I grumbled, "You're not the one who was kidnapped a month and a half ago. You're not the one who was stabbed with a crusty knife. You're not the one who was in a coma for three weeks. You're--"

"I get it, I get it. Sheesh."

I grinned triumphantly and closed my eyes again. I wanted to slap Dylan. Hard. My eyes snapped open in annoyance.

"Leave me alone, Dylan," I snapped.

"Mhm," he hummed and continued to slowly and torturously kiss my neck. I wanted to hurt him so much but I was a puddle under his touch, my body responding the way my brain wasn't.

"D-Do you want something?" I managed out and cursed to myself when I began stuttering.

Dylan lightly nipped at my neck and I moaned into the pillow.

"I want you," he whispered deeply into my ear, "to get your ass up so you can have some soup."

And, just like that, he was up and leaving the room. I groaned angrily at both myself and Dylan and stood up, stomping out of the room, being sure I wouldn't hurt myself.

No one was heard when I descended the stairs. Not Brianna, Trey, or Owen. Even though Brianna and Trey didn't live here, they were here most of the day.

"What kind of soup do you want?" I asked Dylan when I saw him in the kitchen, taking two bowls out.

"Chicken noodle soup," he answered and handed me a now full bowl. "Here."

I thanked him and grabbed a spoon, putting it in my mouth.

"It's really good," I mumbled and closed my eyes, a smile growing on my face.

Dylan grinned, "I know."

I rolled my eyes and walked to the couch, carefully sitting down. I grabbed the remote and turned the television onto Netflix.

"I'm going to be babysitting you until you're healed," Dylan suddenly blurted and looked at me with his bottom lip between his teeth.

My jaw dropped and I turned to him with furious eyes.

"Do I look like I need babysitting!?" I snapped, turning the volume of the TV up so I wouldn't have to hear his answer. I could hear Dylan chuckle and he turned the volume down, pulling me on his lap and burying his face into the crook of my neck.

"I don't have to be called your babysitter," he mumbled, his lips brushing along my skin.

I felt my body go tingly.

"I can be..." he paused. "The person you'll hang out with so you're less bored."

I giggled and shook my head, turning my head to look at him.

"Fine. Just... don't try anything."

Dylan groaned loudly and turned me around so I was straddling him. I could feel the bulge in his pants and it took everything in me not to forget what the pack doctors said about no physical activities for the next two weeks.

Oh well, doctors-shmoctors, Clarke muttered. We won't die.

Clarke, I have come to the conclusion that you are never relevant unless I'm horny.

"It's so hard," he muttered through gritted teeth, his hands sliding up and down my body, "considering how you're dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt and a pair of underwear." He breathed in sharply and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were a light brown. "I could take you here right now if I wanted to... but I'm going to be nice."

I slowly nodded my head and crawled off of him... or tried.

Dylan kept his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him, resulting in me moaning from the feeling of rubbing my lower region against his harder one.

"Stop," I scolded and smacked him. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Dylan chuckled and pressed his lips against mine briefly before pulling away and putting me on the couch again, handing me my bowl.

"Don't expect me to be gentle when you're fully healed, love," he whispered into my ear with a grin before pulling away and watching a show.

Oh...

Is what you'll be moaning out in the next two weeks, Clarke declared, smirking.