The Art of Warren

Forty One

"Would you like another tissue?"

War snatched the tissue from the priestess and blew his nose for the umpteenth time. He was really a mess. A jumble of live wires tangled in shit memories and suppressed nightmares  ready to explode and he let loose. He let loose to the elderly priestess who was about half the size of him in width and height.

He had been seeing Priestess Josefina, for the past two weeks and each time he stepped into the damn room and she talked so softly and just shit. Was this what getting your shit worked out felt like? War felt like she was pushing buttons and making him fall apart and then slowly they were putting pieces back together. Not all of them but some...

"Thanks," he sighed in exhaustion. He had a full day of work. Full day. One of the humans he worked with broke some bone and he had to finish his job and the humans own project. He had cement and sawdust up his ass...but he was making an honest living. Well he was getting paid under the table but still that was enough for him.

Pomelia was talking to him. He still hadn't been able to hold her in their bed in...well a long time but he continued sleeping on the couch in their room. They spoke a lot more often. It was no longer 'Goodnight' then lights out.

They had actual conversations, and War initiated them. It wasn't Pomelia talking to a brick wall. She hadn't touched or kissed him since the night he held her in his arms til she cried but that was okay.

"You seem to be doing well, Warren of bane pack. The goddess smiles upon your candor," She spoke as she gave him a smile. Her smiles were warm and although she was old he was sure the crows feet around her eyes would worsen from the way she wore that smile constantly. Maybe  Pomelia would have the same problem when they grew old together...

"Thank you...is it something I can buy Pomelia to, to show her how much I love her?"

The older woman chuckled. "Well, unfortunately I have not met your mate before. I do not handle novices. You know her best, yes? So think of something she likes and grab that for her."

War frowned. What did Pomelia like? She likes to cook...but would a pan show her his unyielding love for her? She liked to do laundry, she even sang as she did it...but would laundry detergent tell her he would rather die than have her out of his life? She did enjoy him eating her out...although War couldn't think who enjoyed it more?

Maybe he and his wolf being able to satisfy her and dig their tongue into a place where no one else dared to go, or slurping up her juices... That was a big no, his sweet Pomelia was in the process of forgiving him and he was sure she didn't want him between her legs.

"I don't know what she likes..."

The older woman frowned. "Well how about flowers? Or chocolates? Or you say she likes to cook right? Make her dinner for once."

War grinned. Last time he made her breakfast she was overjoyed. He was sure he could pull together some food for her. Maybe something chicken like? Last time she had chicken and mashed potatoes she was happy. She was even humming. He could kind of replicate that...

"I'm going to do that. Thank you..."

Her eyes crinkled into a smile as she rose to her feet along with him. "You're welcome! Remember talking is the remedy to longevity."

War repeated that a few times in his head before she patted him gently on his arm. "I can come next week?"

"Anytime, Warren."

They said their goodbyes and War made his way outside towards Trent's car. On his way, he heard his phone buzzing and almost dropped his phone in surprise of who it was.