Zelena.
Once again, the conversation picked up, filling the room with chatter. Not long later, Roe and a few she-wolves brought out the food. I sat and watched, eating quietly as the rest of the table laughed and joked and talked with each other. Gunner, as per usual, would occasionally brush my cheek with his fingers, or lean over and whisper that he loves me, or squeeze my knee, or rub my belly. He never went more than a few minutes without touching me in some way. It was the little things that he did without realizing, the small displays of love and affection, that meant the world to me. The feeling of joy and happiness that Gunner and everyone else at this table instill in me still feels so foreign. There are times when I wonder if I deserve this. To be this happy, to have these peopl
