*Ethan*
In my library, I splash scotch carelessly into a glass and down it in one long swallow. I welcome the burn, the heat, anything to counter the anger coursing through me. Anger at myself because sharp disappointment gouged me when she rejected my gift.
It felt like a rejection of me. Especially since I had spent nearly an hour striving to find the perfect necklace for her. The red had to be the right shade, the diamonds not too many. The piece itself could not be overwhelming and yet it needed to be noticeable. Barely.
I pour more scotch, toss it back. Generally, when I select jewelry for a she-wolf, I purchase the first piece I see. I don't care if it's gaudy or too small. I don't care how it will fall just below her neck. I don't give any thought as to whether she would like it
