Another chapter! Yay! Sorry if it's sorta short - I've been busy! Thanks!
~Lissa
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That night, I didn't return to my apartment.
I lived in a small, cozy apartment on the outskirts of town at the highest story - it provided a beautiful view of the nearest streams and buildings. While I loved my place, from the many pictures decorating the walls and various candles, it was too quiet. Back in high school, I craved quietness; it was difficult to have a laidback, relaxing day with my siblings and frantic friends. Now, there had been too many days of silence, of being by myself - being lonely. It allowed insane thoughts and feelings, so given the opportunity, I usually crashed at my desk in the facility. It was located in the corner, cramped with the ticking sound from the vent above me; most would've found it annoying, but it saved me from silence.
I awoke to my shoulder being nudged, hard. I jerked awake with a moan, slowly raising my head from my tangled arms. My hair was matted to my sweaty forehead, yesterday's makeup felt sticky on my face, and my back was aching from my terrible posture. I blinked away the blurriness in my vision and looked over my shoulder, yawning. Temp was standing behind me, a frown on his face. He was wearing a black t-shirt, revealing the scars on his arms, and a pair of black pants. Exhaling loudly, he reached forward and yanked a sticky note off my cheek. "That's cute," he said, sarcastically. "And, you wonder why you're single."
"Shut up," I retorted, too tired to think of a comeback. He dropped the sticky note onto the floor and looked around at the people beginning to show up. "What do you want?"
He pinched his lips together. "Something is up."
"What are you talking about?" I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair. "It's too early to deal with your weird behavior, Temp."
"I tried reading Subject 106's thoughts yesterday," he started, appearing frustrated. "His mind was blank - actually, when I tried, I heard this buzzing sound and after a minute or two, my ears were bleeding."
I shrugged. "Maybe your gift doesn't extend to the supernatural."
"I've read other werewolves thoughts," he argued, his eyebrows knitting together. "He's the first one that I can't - and my ears bled, Blue."
"It's probably a sign that you should stay out of his head," I told him, pushing my chair back. He stepped away and slowly, I rose to my feet. I stretched my arms and twisted my back, carefully. He watched with an ugly scowl on his face, though still looked freaked and confused. "He's centuries old, Temp - maybe he's bumped into other mind-readers and learned to control his thoughts. And, I imagine his thoughts are scary; from what he spilled about his family yesterday, his past isn't too great."
"But, if I was able to read his thoughts, there wouldn't be any need for you to go in there and ask questions," he said, tossing his hands into the air. "Things would be done faster."
I walked over to my cabinet and unlocked it, yanking out my heavy purse. "Well, why does it matter? He's cooperating, isn't he?" A few people passed by, looking at the two of us in shock; it wasn't very often Temp was found at my desk, willingly. I flopped back down behind my desk and fixed the position of my mirror near the screen of my computer. Seeing my disgusting appearance, I started fixing my makeup, applying some powder to my face and another coat of mascara. Temp watched, his arms folded across his chest and his lips pinched together. "I think you're overthinking the situation."
