He is standing right in front of me, blocking the door.
How did he do that? He had been standing more than ten feet away from me before.
I become like a sheep that has been backed into a corner. "What are you? What do you want from me?" I beg, my eyes drilling through his, pleading earnestly.
His eyes flash at my comment, then, strangely, he wears a resigned expression. "Come, sit down while I explain."
He leads me back over to the divan, and I cautiously sit down upon it. I have to admit, no matter how creepy this feels, I am shamefully happy to spend a few more seconds gazing at his enticing face. However, I try not to show it, instead displaying a dubious frown.
He takes a deep breath, and then speaks. "My name is Lucas, and I am what you would call a werewolf."
Shock and incredulity run through my mind, freezing me to the bone. Oh, what a pity, I think sadly, this incredibly hot guy, the only one that's ever talked to me, is a weirdo. I can tell he believes his outlandish claims too. His eyes are trying to catch my gaze, a hopeful expression displayed in them.
"Werewolves don't exist," I tell him slowly, as if he is a kindergartener. I know he doesn't deserve my disdain, but... really?
"Are you saying I don't exist?" he asks, irritated. I can't help but notice how cute he is when he is vexed, and I wonder if I really want to wake up from this dream.
"No, although you might need to go talk to a counselor or something about some mental problems," I automatically snap, then immediately wish to take back my harsh words. For me, insults are default, almost encouraged by people's equally disdaining response.
He seems frustrated now, a tiny pout on his plump lips, streaks of his blue hair falling into his eyes. The strange thing is, he doesn't seem to be angry or even annoyed by me, but by himself. What kind of guy is he? He is proving almost everything that I thought was true about every guy wrong.
"I guess I'll just have to prove it to you," he mutters quietly. His eyes fly shut, his lips pursed in concentration. He seems to be focusing on something, something I can't possibly detect.
"There is no way you can prove to me that-"
I am interrupted by his sudden transfiguration, staring in shock and amazement as the handsome man suddenly melts, his head tumbling into his body. It is like a waterfall, the way his body just crumbles into itself. However, there is a shimmer of light before he becomes a puddle on the floor, his-body-liquid-I-don't-really-know making a shape. Another millisecond and he is that shape.
A colossal wolf with sharp white teeth and dark eyes that matches his pupils.
I jump back in horror. Nothing I had read or seen about werewolves had prepared me for this.
It barks once, a deep sound that reminds me roughly of his baritone laugh, his shaggy fur a creamy light brown color that matches his skin. He, like his human counterpart, is absolutely beautiful. My breath is taken away as I examine him and his huge, graceful form. What absolutely astonishes me, most of all, is his authoritative aura, demanding respect even from me.
Similar to the previous morphing, he suddenly crumbles, falling towards the ground speedily. There is a flash of light, and he becomes the incredibly hot man he was before.
Scared, I take a step back, not watching where I am going. Lucas, no matter how beautiful, seems ethereal. Somehow, my brain refuses to believe that werewolves exist, and even though now I am given proof, it still is a lot to take in. It is almost too much for me to accept, no matter how true it is.
My feet slip out from under me as I collide with a hard, firm object. I feel the floor rush to meet me, my arms flaying about, trying to catch my balance.
A pair of strong, firm hands reach beneath me, propelling me back into my standing position. They feel warm, releasing shocks through my body. I am definitely aware of his presence.
"Please believe me," he takes his hands away from my back, coldness now flooding to the previously warm spot where his hand had been.
"I... I.." I mumbled softly, disconcerted by his close proximity, yet shivering from the absence of his big, toasty warm hands. He seems to sense that, leaning in and grabbing my right hand, heat spreading like wildfire throughout my body.
Nervousness takes me over and I yank my slender hand away. His eyes widen in surprise as I shove them in my pockets. "You don't want me to touch you?" he inquired curiously, "You don't trust me?"
Yes, I want you to touch me. Yes, I trust you. Although I have no idea why.
"I don't know you. Why would I?" I carelessly throw at him. He blinks once, almost from surprise rather than irritation. Bafflement is etched into his features, as if he is actually confused at the thought that I don't.
I begin to get angry at myself. Why do I have to be so bitter?
"Okay, I'll wait then," he grins faintly. Other than his slightly diminished smile, he seems undeterred, though, continuing almost as energetic as before.
Is this guy for real?
"Well, you might as well give up now then or else you'll be waiting forever," I look away, letting the harsh words leave my lips.
"Don't worry; I am prepared to wait forever. I have all the time in the world," he says softly, his words startling me.
Of course. How can I forget? He isn't even a human.
"I think you forget that I will die in about seventy five years. I don't have forever," I murmur, my voice picked up by his sensitive ears. Silence stretches between us as the seconds tick by. I feel uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but him.
He laughs again, a sound that starts to to melt my heart. "I think you underestimate me, Ava."
Whoa. Wait a second.
"How do you know my name?" I furiously demand. He winks at me in response, waving my school ID before my eyes. Narrowing my eyes, I hold out my hand towards him. "Give it back."
"Should I?" He teases, sparking my anger. I launch myself at him, and he smiles wickedly. "Oh, well this is getting interesting."