Revelations

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

When her eyes peeled open, she wasn't too sure where she was. The all too familiar feeling of disorientation rushed over her and she began to feel nauseous.

It took her only a few seconds to realize she was in a diner.

In the middle of the desert.

Blue eyes peered around and she found herself in one of those hole in the wall places. The kind that serves delicious food but no one ever knows about it because they never give it a passing glance.

She was surrounded by chrome and red leather seats. The floor was a sea of black and white checkerboard linoleum. An old jukebox sat in the corner.

Her eyes scanned around some more to land on the boy in the seat across from her. Somehow 'boy' felt incorrect. He looked young. Somehow he managed to look boyish while retaining an angular jaw. His nose was straight, his eyebrows turned up slightly in the outer corner giving him an impish look. He looked like a troublemaker.

His dark eyes were scanning the menu held up by long and slender fingers. The orbs turned up to look at her and she realized that she had been staring.

"Who are you?" She asked. Quiet but still trying to retain a demanding exterior despite how terrified she felt.

Something flickered behind his eyes and a ghost of a smile flashed, the corner of his mouth turning up as his gaze remained on the girl before him. Definitely a troublemaker.

Turning back to the menu he said, "I think I'll get the cheeseburger with," his sentence came to a pause as he squinted his eyes, "French fries? What the hell are French fries?"

She looked at him incredulously. He blatantly ignored herquestion and he didn't know what French fries were. She was in a coma for two months and even she knew what French fries were.

"It would be appreciated if you would stop staring at me." He snapped, his gaze still on the menu.

Her mouth popped open, releasing an indignant scoff.

"What?" He asked, sounding offended and slightly annoyed. The sunlight from outside sparked off his dark hair as he sat down his menu and turned up an eyebrow.

Her hand curled into a fist and slammed onto the table top. People turned and stared at her but she didn't care. She was angry. "Tell me who the hell you are and where I am." She growled. An attempt at menace fell flat in front of her and flopped onto the table.

The boy leant forward and brushed dark hair back in frustration. It only fell back to brush the tips of his eyebrows and he blew out a puff of air in frustration. "Oh, don't make a scene. That's why I brought you here."

She frowned in frustration. "That's it." She attempted to slide out of the seat, but long pale fingers made an iron grip upon her wrist. A burning sensation sprouted from where they press into the soft flesh. She gasped, her eyes turning up to his.

"You're not leaving." He growled out. It's an animalistic sound.

She wasn't too sure what to do, so she leaned back and yanked her wrist away from him, rubbing at the sores. The skin looked irritated, almost as if she had burned herself.

She looked up at him for a moment. The anger boiling away, frown deepening. "Can you at least tell me where I am?" She asked, attempting at a soothing tone.

He sighed, running a hand through his dark locks once again. She found herself watching him, the way his pale fingers brushed through the seemingly soft hair and the fluid way the hair fell back down. It's delightfully messy. The muscles in his arm rippled slightly under his red shirt.