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?”
my normal music 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 could
as I approached the open doorway. My mood had lightened since Teddy and I made up, and now all I wanted was to be incredibly affectionate and near him all the time. He was the complete opposite this evening, but I knew there had
swayed her from side to side as I walked down the long hall, 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
I called out. He was too focused on stirring around the mashed potatoes to
his face and he leaned forward to peck a kiss over my brow. “Yes, my
mixing in the butter and herbs that he had just added to give the mashed potatoes more flavour. I leaned against the side of the countertop and looked down at Luna for some extra strength. “Does
alone,” he
“Always?”
“Yes, of course.”
moment, and then he darted his eyes in my direction for half
“No, I live alone.”
Her white fur was brushed off the front
on the side of the pot. “What is it?” groaned Teddy with his posh accent
on Monday, I thought I heard you talking to
“But that’s impossible.”
I blinked nervously in front of him. “No one lives
taken up from the pot with a sharp movement of his wrist. “You must have
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