"You say this now, but it'll happen. It always does, whether you want it to or not."

Well, it's true, and I'm well aware that sounds like a cliché response. Sometimes cliché's hold a kernel of some truth. It's not surprising that he's admitting he had been in love before, or at least had a crush. I would assume it would be difficult for him. After all he seems terribly moody and aloof. So, it would be difficult for a girl, or a guy if he swung that way, to get so close to him in that particular manner. If no one would approach him in such a manner then he would have to do it himself. Although I don't foresee that happening any time soon either. Most would be a bit nervous if he made their approach to him. At least I know I was. But with a little bit of alcohol...okay a lot of alcohol, he really wasn't all that bad as his appearance makes him out to be. He could laugh! Who the hell knew he had such a warm and joyful laugh. You wouldn't be able to see it. I am pleased though I could at least make him appear happy. I thought the story about my first crush would help soothe whatever angst he had against my creator.

It's a very good thing that the chocolate batter tasted delicious, because I am pretty sure that small simper on his face would be replaced with an irritated scowl. I am pleased though that he isn't too upset that I messed up his pretty mug. I managed to wipe the chocolate off of him to at least let him keep that clean appearance. Being bestowed my own chocolate whiskers I can't help, but feel like I finally belong somewhere. It's actually quite a nice feeling hardly something I'm accustomed to experiencing in the first place. That I would be considered to be a cute cat caused my cheeks to flare a bit red, embarrassed, but appreciating being called such a thing. He thought I was cute. Come on self, stop that. Turning my head away from his I return to the task at hand, looking at the side of the bowl that shows my reflection. After all he doesn't need to see me looking like a silly little girl...although I'm still wearing chocolate whiskers on my face. His question about whether or not my new distaste of meat was true was answered by a solemn nod. What fool would lie about being unable to withstand meat! With a shrug I offer him a little bit of clarity.

"I can tolerate seafood, but only small portions. I can eat fruit and vegetables until I throw up, but there is only so much you can do with those food groups."

With all the batter in the pan I carry it over to the oven. Pressing the timer on the clock, I close the door and head on over back to the countertop. I am a bit hesitant about creating the icing. Usually I just use whatever I find at the store, but thankfully the ingredients for this is on the next page. Thank goodness, because it would be a terrible sin if I created nasty tasting icing, and ruined the entire cake. At least he is capable of sympathizing with my ordeal about meat. It was his next comment that made me still only for a moment. I could imagine every single dish in hear the main course is meat. That would be quite sickening for me. I can't even walk into a steakhouse I doubt I would be able to walk in here. I nod solemnly in agreement, but my eyes don't met his own, when I look up at him.

"I probably would. A prey animal trapped within the predator's lair."

I don't mind sending him away to go and get more alcohol. We are out after all, and I think the liquid is helping us both become more relaxed with the other. His suggestion that we use some alcohol in the icing made me quite anxious. Well, great...that's just great! I don't know how to make icing and here I am going to be making icing the first time and dumping alcohol into the mixture. That's something that a more talented cook should be doing, not a novice like me. But before I could turn down such a silly idea he's already gone. Well, great...just great. Shaking my head I busy myself trying to grab the ingredients and finding the tools necessary to accomplish the task. Grabbing my phone I do a quick google search on my phone on how to include alcohol into cake icing. Turning on the stove I dump blocks of chocolate and butter into the pan letting them both melt together. Turning the spoon around the sauce pan I look up to see that bottle of Bacardi he placed saying it would be what I'm supposed to use. But my eyes waver over to that special encased bottle Now, I'm not an idiot, but I am fairly certain I'm not supposed to be drinking something like that with him. Now I'm not going to question just who gave him a gift like that, but I am pretty damn sure, that if I was the one that gave someone a gift like that...I'd expect to be given a taste.

"Um...I'm pretty sure who ever gave you that gift wanted you to treat it on something special, that's not really something you should waste."

Well, apparently my words held no meaning, because there he goes pouring me a bit. Moving away from the stove to allow the contents to get warmer, I grab my glass and set it down beside the stove. Turning it off, I move the sauce pan over to another part of the stove to cool, as I work on opening up the bag of cocoa and icing sugar, to sift it all together in another bowl. That question about having another pack made me casually shake my head. You know, I don't think I really had a pack in the first place. I mean I never saw the other members in Frost's pack. The only connection I felt was to him, and I could feel some sort of invisible thread be split into different directions, which I could only assume it would be tethered to those other members. Since I left I never really found my own place. I tried, I guess one could say I am still trying, but without much luck. With a shrug I sift the cocoa and icing sugar together, gently as I nonchalantly answer his innocent inquiry.

"When I left Frost all those strings snapped, but I still feel his, barely though. I take care of some horses at the stables in the South, there like a replacement for a pack I guess. And, I don't consider it pack, but I was supposed to be trained by a Dark Hunter to help since I'm a horse, but she left. So, no not really, I don't belong anywhere, and I don't belong to anyone."

It would take a while for that chocolate and butter that I warmed and stirred together to cool, and we still had a lot of time to wait for the cake to finish baking. Grabbing my glass and leaning against the countertop, I gingerly take a sip, which then turned into a wide gulp. My eyes widen at surprise of the smoothness and the crisp taste, far more exquisite then whatever bottle we had emptied together earlier.

"Jesus Christ, this tastes very good!"

Calliel Alosi

Now I'm Unbreakable, It's Unmistakable