Chapter 253: The Sock Incident
Vivian’s POV
Joshula was seriously pushing my last nerve.
"What do you think about these?" he asked, holding up a pair of neon green socks.
"They are... great," I sighed, hoping to get this over with
"And these ones?" he asked again, lifting another pair up
"Very bright."
"If you do not tell me the truth right now, I swear I will smack you upside the head with these socks," I hissed, my patience snapping like a brittle twig.
He blinked at me, totally startled. "Uh... what?"
Exactly.
I dropped the ridiculous pair of socks back into the chaotic cart pile and turned to face him, my expression entirely deadpan. We had been at this bustling mall for two whole hours. At this point, I could already picture myself calmly explaining to Zahliver how his long-lost brother had tragically perished in a sock-related accident. A tragic, colorful, and completely avoidable accident.
"Joshula, you are legally allowed to not like things. No one in this pack is going to judge you if you say no to socks covered in tiny muffins. Seriously, it is okay to have personal preferences."
From somewhere behind us, Johnson let out a sudden, loud snort. If he did not stop laughing at my misery, he was going to be next on my hit list, I said in my mind
Joshula gave me a cautious look, like he was not entirely sure if I was being sincere or laying a clever trap for him. But eventually, he nodded slowly and started pulling other random items out of the cart things I was willing to bet real money he had never actually wanted in the first place.
"Thanks for helping me with all this, by the way," he said as he examined a burnt-orange shirt, then tossed it aside. "I am guessing shopping with Zahliver is not this much trouble?"
I paused, actually thinking about that question. "We have... never gone shopping together."
Huh. I had not even realized that until just now.
The thought made me curious what kind of shopper would Zahliver even be? Would he be methodical and quiet? Impatient and grumpy? Would he hate every second of it or secretly enjoy watching me lose my mind in the aisles?
Maybe I should get him a little surprise gift. I had already picked up a few small things for other people while we were walking around the mall. It felt kind of weird not including him in the loot.
But what do you get the all-powerful mate who literally owns everything?
Socks? my inner wolf suggested helpfully, not even trying to sound serious.
You are hilarious. Truly.
Okay, fine. What about shorts?
A weird choking sound escaped my throat. I cringed hard at the mental image, feeling entirely horrified. Shorts? On Zahliver? Have you lost your furry mind?
Just putting options on the table, Miss Judgmental.
Yeah, well, burn the table.
So what would you give our beloved Alpha King then?
Before I could think of a single good answer, I heard my name called out sharply.
"Vivian?"
"Huh?" I blinked and looked over my shoulder. Joshula was staring right at me, his brow arched in a way that was the exact mimicry of Zahliver’s favorite expression. Was that some kind of genetic thing?
"I asked what we are doing next," he said, gesturing vaguely to the shopping cart, which was now noticeably lighter than when we had started this nightmare.
Right. Next stop.
"Oh! I will go pay for these items right now," I said quickly. I turned around, scanning the busy store until I spotted Luke standing guard near the front entrance. Perfect. He was way more suited for this next awkward part than I was. "Luke!"
He rushed over immediately, alert and ready, his eyes flicking to Joshula with instant suspicion. Great. Just what we needed tense pack dynamics playing out over a shopping cart full of clothes.
"Luna?" he asked, his voice low and formal, though his dark gaze remained narrowed.
Yeah... my pack guards still were not quite sold on the idea of Joshula being completely trustworthy yet. Our fifteen-minute car ride together earlier certainly had not helped matters either. Let us just say that car games are a terrible idea once you pass the age of eight.
"I am heading up to pay for this stuff," I said quickly. "Can you, um... help him pick out... you know... undergarments?" I flailed my hand vaguely in the general direction of Joshula’s waist.
Both men blinked at me in total silence.
"You know, like... the shorts that are not really shorts... but go inside pants?"
Still nothing from either of them.
"The, ugh... the thing that holds your... junk... in place?" I whispered fiercely, my face burning red.
Luke’s frown deepened into a scowl, and Joshula’s head tilted sideways with slow, painful confusion.
"Oh, for the love of the goddess boxers, briefs, boxer briefs! I do not care! Just help him pick some out! I am not standing there asking him if silk makes him feel supported or if cotton brings out his inner warrior!" I hissed, barely managing to keep my voice low.
My cheeks were practically on fire. I turned on my heel and marched off toward the register before either of them could say another word.
If anyone in this pack deserved a long nap after today, it was definitely me.
I stormed off, practically yanking the heavy shopping cart’s handle out of shape when I jerked it sharply to the right.
"Seriously, why is it always so hard for guys to take a simple hint? Do I need to spell it out with giant neon signs or something?" I muttered under my breath as I finally stepped into the checkout line.
A few pack members standing nearby glanced my way, either smirking or quickly looking elsewhere to avoid my heated glare. Still, I could feel their amusement crackling in the air like static electricity nobody was doing a very good job of hiding their giggles.