Blink || The Lost Boys

Don't Stop Believin'

"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, she took the midnight train going anywhere" 

                    Don't Stop Believin' by Journey

SEVYN WAS DISTRACTED when Dwayne caught her eyeing the prize at one of those booths where you knock down the bottles. He stood alone, suggesting they really were taking turns spending time with her.

It felt strange, yet unexpectedly pleasant to be slowly integrated into the group.

A particularly cute bat hung above her, catching her eye. Fanfiction had filled her head with scenes where one of the boys wins the girl a bat, but her independent streak demanded she win it herself.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on her side. By her third attempt, frustration was bubbling into a tantrum. Dwayne's imposing presence loomed behind her. His presence was undeniable – each of the boys were a larger-than-life figure, making you feel like you were living life on an amplified level when they included you.

"What are you trying to win?" he rumbled.

"Bernard," she replied, gesturing towards the bat.

Dwayne's expression was unreadable. "You named the bat Bernard? You haven't even won it yet," he teased.

"Manifestation, Dwayne. Manifestation," she countered, turning back to the game. Before she could pay for another round, Dwayne stepped forward, exchanging money for baseballs with the vendor.

"I can win my own prizes," she huffed, shooting him a sidelong glare.

"Who said this was for you? That's a bold assumption, Sevyn," he replied smoothly, using her words from the first night they officially met.

Flustered, she could only manage a scoff. Pink dusted her cheeks. What could she say? Now she felt silly for assuming he would win her a prize. Maybe it was for Laddie. This wasn't fanfiction. Mentally reprimanding herself, she braced for another round of teasing.

Dwayne, however, remained true to form. A smile played on his lips, but he said nothing. Picking up a ball, he launched it with pinpoint accuracy, sending the bottles clattering to the ground.

The look on Sevyn's face was priceless. Frustration had morphed into a mix of surprise and indignation. Her lips were pursed, a furrow etching itself between her brows. Yet, despite her expression, Dwayne thought she looked cute.

His goal tonight was to understand the woman beneath the awkward chatter, unrelenting energy, and petty thievery. An instinct told him her spirit mirrored theirs in some way. Lost souls were something he and his brothers could identify all too well.

When Dwayne gestured, the bewildered attendant forked over the bat. Everyone knew these games were rigged – a clean win was a rare sight.

As Sevyn initially assumed, Dwayne offered her the bat. "Here, hold this for me. Just remember to return it before you leave."

Sevyn rolled her eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Only if you promise to name him Bernard."

He took her free hand, guiding her through the crowd that effortlessly parted for him. He seemed to have a destination in mind, but kept it to himself. The silence, however, was comfortable. Neither felt pressured to fill the void. Sevyn took the opportunity to people-watch, the urge to steal was itching beneath her skin.

Sevyn's eyes scanned the vampire in front of her, she wondered if Dwayne had anything on him, but she lets the impulse pass in their companionable silence.