7: It can’t be
The sound of hurried footsteps follows. Waylen turns and sees her, waves, and seeing her distraught look, decides to walk over.
‘Maybe she wants to tell me something,’ he thinks.
Camilla takes a step back from him. His colleagues frown. What could be wrong with her? They pause their work to watch the two siblings.
“What’s wrong, Camille?” Waylen asks as he approaches her.
“No, it can’t be,” she whispers.
“Camille…”
“No!” With a vigorous shake of the head, she turns on her heels and is gone.
“What the..?” one of the carpenters say.
“What could be wrong with her?” Waylen thinks out loud. “I’ll have to follow her and talk it out.”
“It’s not closing time yet. You can’t leave before then and by the way, you haven’t even completed your work for the day,” their supervisor chimes. A tall man with snow-white skin and a broken nose, sometimes Waylen wonders if he’s an undercover vampire. The thought always made him shiver.
Seeing as there wasn’t much he can do before the day is officially over, Waylen grudgingly goes back to his work.
~~~
If only the breeze of the evening could calm her down, Camilla would be happy. Sitting in her backyard, she continues to remember the incident.
She thought finding your mate was supposed to be a thing of joy. She had always fantasized about meeting him: catching her breath when she saw him and he, the same. She had always wondered if he would be a man of her dreams or if she was going to have to put up with him. It seems none of those are the case.
Her forehead creases. “But how is this possible?” she asks the wind. She sighs. If only the wind could be of the same comfort it had always been in the past.
Sounds come from inside the house. She hears a door open then close. Without being told, she already knows who it is.
“Camille!” Waylen calls, worried.
Her throat runs dry at the sound of his voice. She maintains her silence, shrinking some more into the shadowy side of the wall. ‘Hopefully, he’ll get tired of looking for me and just sit,’ she says in thought but her mind knows Waylen would never do that.
True to her thoughts, the door to the backyard opens.
Waylen catches his breath. “Whoa, you scared me. I’ve been looking for you all over the place.”
“I want to be left alone,” she says.
Scratching the back of his neck, he takes a seat beside her on the steps leading to the door. “First of all, happy birthday, Camille,” he says.
“Thanks,” she replies reluctantly.
“Your gift is inside but let’s deal with the matter at hand first. What’s going on with you?”
Camilla scoffs. “What’s going on with me? Nothing, of course!”
He sighs. “Look, just tell me what the problem is. Is it because I wasn’t here to wish you in the morning? Or maybe it’s because I had to wait for you to come find me? Look, if it’s any of these then I have an explanation-”
“It’s not any of those. I don’t even care that you weren’t here in the morning. And you haven’t offended me in any way,” Camilla says bitterly.
“Then what is it?” he asks, his worry increasing.
“I’ve told you there is nothing wrong with me! What part of that don’t you understand?!” she yells.
“Well none of your actions make your words convincing!” he yells back, making her cower a bit. “You came to the carpenter’s shop today, made me think you wanted to see me, and when I approached you, what did you do? You stepped back with fear written all over your face. Then next thing I know, you’re sprinting as fast as you can away from me. What makes you think I’ll believe the rubbish you’re saying?”
Her tears are choking and she looks away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do any of that,” Camilla says in a low tone.
Waylen lets out a sigh. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for yelling too. It wasn’t necessary.”
Stretching his arm out, he draws her closer. Camilla shivers at his touch but keeps it together.
“If anything is bothering you, Camille, then just let me know. I won’t force you to tell me but I want you to know I’m here for you no matter what,” he whispers in her ear.
“Thank you,” she manages to say. Faking a tight smile, she looks up at him and says, “Why don’t we go inside and celebrate?”
With a chuckle, he replies, “Now you’re talking.”
The two go into their house to the living room. Camilla’s jaw drops at the sight of the decorations.
“What? How did you do all this in such a short time?” she asks, marveling at the ribbons hung around the furniture and the ceiling.
“It wasn’t particularly difficult, you know. I came home and walked in quietly because I knew you were here, I just didn’t know exactly where.” He looked around at his work. “I just checked the kitchen and everywhere else surrounding the living room.”
With a smirk on her face, she looks up at him. “But I could have come in here at any moment. What guarantee did you have that I wouldn’t walk in on you?”
He shrugs. “I just hoped. Going to your room to check would have simply wasted precious time and you know I’m not so quiet so the whole thing could have flopped if I did. I just had some luck on my side today.”
“Well, thank you,” Camilla says.
A small cake is on the table. It isn’t round like she expected. Instead, it’s actually two cakes of two numbers: 1 and 8 with candles lit on them.
“Happy eighteenth birthday, Camille,” Waylen says, giving her a side hug. “Make a wish.”
She closes her eyes as she blows out the candles. Waylen sits her down and cuts out a piece for her. “I’m glad you weren’t annoyed with my choice of decor,” he says as he hands her the plate.
“What do you mean?” she asks with a creased forehead and munching teeth.
“Never mind it