In The Gazebo - Wren’s POV

 Wren almost cowered. The garden was so big. Flowers as far as he could see with small trails through them, some brick, some dirt. Every breath brought more information to him. Lavender, honeysuckle, lilies… Fresh, overturned soil. The pine trees in the distance. The sky was so high above. There were no walls to hide in. Nothing. Just space, and room… He focused on Jackson. Followed Jackson in the right position. Let his entire world shrink down to just Jackson.

His panic diminished once they stepped into the gazebo. It was a small space. Enclosed. Safe.

He loved being outside. He just needed a smaller amount of outside. But… Feeling that breeze. Listening to the leaves of the vines rustling. Slowly, his heart rate returned to normal and he risked looking up at Jackson.

Jackson was completely turned away from him. Wren followed his line sight to see a little pond in the not too far distance. It’s surface was highlighted orange from the setting sun. With careful glances, he tried to take in the rest of the area.

There were so many flowers. So many colors. He couldn’t imagine the amount of work that went into keeping them all looking so nice. The wind rustled the flowers, pushing them down and swaying them back up and Wren let go of some of the tension in his shoulders.

It was nice out here. That feeling wasn’t familiar with him, the way he felt almost settled. Almost… at peace. As that thought entered his mind, a rattling caught his attention. Every bit of peace he’d thought he’d found fled. Jackson turned back around and Kia entered their gazebo.

His mouth filled with saliva as she laid out the various snacks. “Do you like tea?” Yes. Wren wanted nothing more than a cup of that tea. It smelled like what his mom used to drink in the evenings before bed and his heart ached at the memory… but if he said yes, if he said he liked it and wanted it… He kept his mouth shut. Jackson would either give it to him or not.

“Here, drink this and eat as much of this as you want.”

Wren took the cup from Jackson, carefully so as not to touch him and anger him. The first touch of the liquid on his tongue was heaven. The taste wasn’t quite the same as what his mom made, but the scent was close enough. He never took more than a small sip at a time. He didn’t want Jackson to think he liked it too much. He didn’t want it taken away.

Kia moved forward suddenly and pointed at the pile of pastries. “Eat that one. Jackson prefers the chocolate chip, but Margaret’s honey lemon scones are the best.” They smelled delicious, but he didn’t dare. A glance at Jackson didn’t give him any indication on if he should obey the other wolf or not, so he stayed still.

“Eat it.” Jackson didn’t sound happy about giving the command, but a command was a command. Wren chose the smallest one, the one least likely to make him mad for wasting the good food on a wolf.

And god… The scone crumbled in his mouth in a perfect mix of butter, honey, and lemon. Just sweet enough, tart enough. It was gone too soon, even though he’d tried to make it last.

“Do you like the tea? The scone? Do you want a cookie too?”

Wren was frozen in indecision. Yes. To all of it. If he said yes, it was just giving Jackson more power over him. The ability to take away something that he knows Wren likes. Wren heard a grunt and glanced up in time to see Kia removing her elbow from Jackson’s side.

Jackson’s let out a slow breath. “Eat one of each then tell me your favorite.”

The choice was taken out of Wren’s hands. He ate one of each. The chocolate chip cookies were soft, but a little too sweet. There were a little too many chips in them. The peach filled was again, a little too sweet when compared with the honey lemon.

Not that they weren’t all delicious. There was more flavor in each of those than in any meal he’d had since he was 8 years old. The sweetness was just overwhelming to what he was used to. Now he was supposed to tell Jackson his favorite. His heart ticked up and he cleared his throat to give himself just an extra second. “The first one,” he forced the words out.

Kia said something in an excited voice, but Wren didn’t pay attention to the words. His heart was racing. The world felt too big again, even in the enclosed gazebo. The space was pressing down on him. He carefully controlled his breathing, the same way he would before each fight. Slow breaths to settle his mind. Slow, even breaths.

“Do you like the tea? Answer.”

“Yes.” He didn’t allow himself time to think. He answered and took another drink of the tea, which, remarkably, did settle him just a smidge.

“There is no wrong answer. If you don’t like it, then I don’t care. We can get you something else.”

God, did he have to answer? Jackson didn’t tell him to say anything. He liked the tea! It was good and… and Jackson was leaning forward. Leaning into his space. He forced his breathing back to slow, deep, and even and took another sip of his tea. The cup was nearing empty now. He wanted more.

Jackson grabbed a cookie and sat back again. The evening passed in relative silence. Crickets started chirping and fireflies danced above the flower gardens. The distinctive sound of a bob-white called in the distance.

It was the closest to nature Wren had been since he was 8. He stopped worrying about Jackson and Kia and any future punishment he might get. He let himself look, and breath, and be at peace. For just this moment, he would let himself be at peace.