Fate Is Insanity.
But This Is Just Weird.
She was beautiful under the moonlight. Her hair was a wreck, it looked as though she had sobbed half the night away, and I definitely was suspecting that she was courting frostbite, but damn, did she look beautiful.
She was staring at me, an eyebrow arching, a defiant grin playing over her lips.
“Well?” she asked. “Is there a reason that you decided to watch me, try to sneak away, and then ignore me? You scared me, you know. Whatever you knocked into gave me a minor heart attack.”
“I…I’m sorry?” I asked. She was so straight forward.
She grinned suddenly and leaned forward, as if whispering a great secret. “I thought you were a zombie.”
“A zombie?” I asked.
She waved a hand nonchalantly, it was red and swollen from the icy cold, and it hurt me to even look at it.
“Or an alien, come to kidnap me to space and steal my ovaries.”
“Your…ovaries?” I whispered, shocked. I think that was the first time I had ever said that word out loud. Hell, it was probably the first time I even let the word cross into my mind.
She nodded and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“My ovaries.”
I blinked rapidly, the cold air stinging my wide eyes.
“I’m…sorry?” I asked again.
She flinched at my words and her smile faded. It wasn’t until her face was empty that I realized she was bluffing. Her charm overlapping the obvious fear, desperation, and the bitter cold that she must be feeling.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, stepping down into the snow. She wrinkled her nose slightly, and shifted her eyes to a point behind me.
“Oh, you know, walking.”
“It’s nearly midnight.”
“I’m a vampire. Sorry, should’ve mentioned.”
“It’s snowing.”
“Walking is healthy.” She shot back.
“In the snow?”
“In all weathers.” She smiled crookedly. Her mouth was higher up on the left side, a dimple pulling up the corner farther, giving her a permanent grin. Or smirk.
I didn’t answer, just watched. She seemed uncomfortable under my gaze, her dark eyes drifting to look at other things. She shoved her hands deep in her pockets, her feet shifting in the deep snow.
“Are you cold?” I asked finally.
At this, her eyes locked on mine. She lifted her chin and gave me a defiant, almost angry look.
“Excuse me?” she whispered.
“It’s snowing.” I waved the air around me.
She tilted her head back and I saw a sliver of pink tongue slip in between her lips and moisten them.
“Really? I never would have guessed. Are you a weather man?”
I rolled my eyes.
“If you don’t want my help…”
“I don’t need your help.” She whispered, her eyebrows twitched high into her bangs, her mouth scrunching into a perfect grimace.
I raised my own brows.
“Fine.” I said.
“Fine.” She replied sullenly.
“Well?” I asked.
“What?” she said impatiently, obviously not pleased where this banter was going.
“Are you coming inside?” I said, stepping closer.
She stepped back in a hurry.
“No.” she said loudly. Too loudly. “What if you’re a mass murderer who preys on girls like me?”
“I’m 17.”
“So?”
“I’m not a killer.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“To the girls like you?”
“To everybody.”
I had to admit, as aggravating as this was, she was pretty fucking clever. Always with an answer. Always a joke.
“What kind of girl are you anyways?”
She lifted her chin again. This time, looking me straight in the face.
“I’m the kind of girl that doesn’t need pity from boys like you.” Her voice was suddenly cold, her eyes, distant. Threatening me almost.
She stared at me one last moment and then spun on her heel and flounced into the cold night. Her back stiff, her shoulders thrown back, the very portrait of pride.
“Hey!” I called after her.
She didn’t bother to glance back as she threw me the middle finger over her shoulder.
She was staring at me, an eyebrow arching, a defiant grin playing over her lips.
“Well?” she asked. “Is there a reason that you decided to watch me, try to sneak away, and then ignore me? You scared me, you know. Whatever you knocked into gave me a minor heart attack.”
“I…I’m sorry?” I asked. She was so straight forward.
She grinned suddenly and leaned forward, as if whispering a great secret. “I thought you were a zombie.”
“A zombie?” I asked.
She waved a hand nonchalantly, it was red and swollen from the icy cold, and it hurt me to even look at it.
“Or an alien, come to kidnap me to space and steal my ovaries.”
“Your…ovaries?” I whispered, shocked. I think that was the first time I had ever said that word out loud. Hell, it was probably the first time I even let the word cross into my mind.
She nodded and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“My ovaries.”
I blinked rapidly, the cold air stinging my wide eyes.
“I’m…sorry?” I asked again.
She flinched at my words and her smile faded. It wasn’t until her face was empty that I realized she was bluffing. Her charm overlapping the obvious fear, desperation, and the bitter cold that she must be feeling.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, stepping down into the snow. She wrinkled her nose slightly, and shifted her eyes to a point behind me.
“Oh, you know, walking.”
“It’s nearly midnight.”
“I’m a vampire. Sorry, should’ve mentioned.”
“It’s snowing.”
“Walking is healthy.” She shot back.
“In the snow?”
“In all weathers.” She smiled crookedly. Her mouth was higher up on the left side, a dimple pulling up the corner farther, giving her a permanent grin. Or smirk.
I didn’t answer, just watched. She seemed uncomfortable under my gaze, her dark eyes drifting to look at other things. She shoved her hands deep in her pockets, her feet shifting in the deep snow.
“Are you cold?” I asked finally.
At this, her eyes locked on mine. She lifted her chin and gave me a defiant, almost angry look.
“Excuse me?” she whispered.
“It’s snowing.” I waved the air around me.
She tilted her head back and I saw a sliver of pink tongue slip in between her lips and moisten them.
“Really? I never would have guessed. Are you a weather man?”
I rolled my eyes.
“If you don’t want my help…”
“I don’t need your help.” She whispered, her eyebrows twitched high into her bangs, her mouth scrunching into a perfect grimace.
I raised my own brows.
“Fine.” I said.
“Fine.” She replied sullenly.
“Well?” I asked.
“What?” she said impatiently, obviously not pleased where this banter was going.
“Are you coming inside?” I said, stepping closer.
She stepped back in a hurry.
“No.” she said loudly. Too loudly. “What if you’re a mass murderer who preys on girls like me?”
“I’m 17.”
“So?”
“I’m not a killer.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“To the girls like you?”
“To everybody.”
I had to admit, as aggravating as this was, she was pretty fucking clever. Always with an answer. Always a joke.
“What kind of girl are you anyways?”
She lifted her chin again. This time, looking me straight in the face.
“I’m the kind of girl that doesn’t need pity from boys like you.” Her voice was suddenly cold, her eyes, distant. Threatening me almost.
She stared at me one last moment and then spun on her heel and flounced into the cold night. Her back stiff, her shoulders thrown back, the very portrait of pride.
“Hey!” I called after her.
She didn’t bother to glance back as she threw me the middle finger over her shoulder.