The Tragic Tale of Teddy Woven
Chapter 21
Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” was blasting through the speaker, much to Teddy’s annoyance. He made the mistake of stating he listened to nothing but classical music, so I was trying to liven up his house with jazz. After all, they were very similar, so surely that would not upset his nerves. The long frown on his face informed me that I was wrong, but I danced to the music next to him anyways.
“Come on,” I taunted with an urgent wave of my hand for him to come over. “Dance with me.”
“Sela, I am cooking,” he sighed out with distress. His statement was true, for he was in fact busily working over the stove-top to prepare our dinner.
I childishly lifted up his dish towel and smacked him lightly in the arm. “Dance with me.”
“Afterwards.”
“Promise?”
Teddy grabbed a hold of the towel to tug me towards him. “Promise.” He pecked his lips over mine with a sudden urgency. “Now, have a seat.”
“It’s not ready yet,” I complained. “Why must I sit?”
“The answer is simple,” he reasoned with a raise of his hands. “You are a distraction.”
“A good one though?”
normal music back on? I
laid a hand over his solid back and leaned over to kiss him on the side of his neck. “Yes, Teddy,” I purred in a naughty way, and then quickly scampered off before he
and near him all the time. He was the complete opposite this evening, but I knew there had to be a logical reason behind it. The music was switched back to his normal radio station, and then I turned the volume down since a commercial
humming an unknown song to counteract the droning of a nonsensical commercial. I paused in front of the staircase, and found myself humming with tighter lips. There was an eerie feeling when I looked up at the staircase; a chill ran down my spine that was beyond explanation. I looked downwards at my bare feet, taking in the coldness of the floor. My mind suddenly recalled the first time I met Teddy, and his familiar voice wafting
scenario that happened some time ago. “Teddy,” I called out. He was too focused on stirring around the mashed potatoes to
forward to peck a
butter and herbs that he had just added to give the mashed potatoes more flavour. I leaned against
live alone,”
“Always?”
“Yes, of course.”
hand froze for a moment, and then he darted his eyes
“No, I live alone.”
Her white fur was brushed off
side of the pot. “What is it?” groaned Teddy with his posh
here on Monday, I thought I heard you talking to a
“But that’s impossible.”
I blinked nervously in front of him.
a sharp
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