Camp Half-Breed

#8 - Under a spell.

A/N - Tell me a random fact, anything that comes to your mind :P

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╰☆☆Chapter Eight☆☆╮

╰☆☆Under a spell☆☆╮

I had taken a shower that evening, and when I began to walk back to my room, I spotted that faun again. He was leaning against a wall, drying his hair with a towel. And he was shirtless.

Don't look at his chest. Look anywhere else! Holy shit, though, those are nice abs.

"I don't think your boyfriend likes me very much."

I glanced up from his abs; his dirty blonde hair was damp, making him even hotter. "Hang on," I said, confused about what he called Steve. "What did you just say?"

"Here I was thinking vampires have perfect hearing," he said, rolling his eyes, tossing the towel over his left shoulder, and flexing his abs. "I said your boyfriend doesn't like me." As I said, he has nice abs. "My face is up here; wanna quit staring at me like that and use words to respond?"

I blinked.

Was I staring? Yes, Elysia, yes, you were.

Ops?

Then it hit me. "Wait, you think that Steve and I are...?" I couldn't help but laugh. "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm the type of person to waste my time on humour?" His facial expression - or lack of expression - answered his own question.

"Well, Steve isn't my boyfriend," but you could be. Okay, so maybe I kept that last part to myself. "What's a faun doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be kind and gentle?"

"According to human myth, vampires are supposed to drink nothing but blood and burn in daylight, yes?" he shot back.

I leaned against the opposite wall to him. "What's your point?"

He took two strides and stood before me. Too close, too close! "My point, Elysia, is never believe what you hear," he whispered, so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my face. Hang on, how did he know my name? Not that it matters. "My people are far from being kind and gentle," he whispered. "I can be rough."

To say I was surprised by the last part would be an understatement. I can be rough. Was he referring to sex?

For some unknown reason, my hands found their way to his bare chest. I must say, his skin is soft but at the same time hard. Using all the strength I could muster, I pushed him backwards until his back slammed into the wall across the hallway. He didn't attempt to stop me, nor did he try to move when I trapped his body between myself and the wall.

Licking my lips, I moved my head close to his. "I can be rough, too," I told him before turning and walking away.

"I'm Buck Schoof, by the way." He introduced himself.

I didn't stop walking, though. "I didn't ask!" I said back.

Tomorrow will be interesting.

~..~

Upon returning to my room, Steve stood before our arched window. Light shone through the tinted glass, and I was surprised to find out that, technically, it doesn't get dark here. Time flows differently in Camp Half-Breed.

Maybe it was how the light reflected on Steve's hair or how he stood with his arms crossed, but I stared at him for longer than intended. Even though Steve stood with his back to me, I could see that he was built differently than Buck, a lot different. He stood taller than the faun, and his shoulders were even broader.

"Are you done staring?" He turned and almost knocked the air out of my lungs. Rays of light shone on his cheeks, causing dried streaks of tears to shimmer like diamonds. He held a photo in his hands, and as soon as he noticed I saw it, Steve quickly tossed it onto the floor.

As the photo flew through the air, I saw the faces of two people.

His parents?

I opened my mouth to ask, but he cut me off. "Just don't."

Ignoring him, I walked over to where the photo had landed on the black rug between our beds. Bending down, I attempted to pick it up, but Steve's hand landed on it at the same time as mine. Our skin touched, and the impact sent a wave of electricity through my body, lighting it on fire.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say as Steve snatched the picture away. We both stood to our feet, and I realised that he lost both of his parents, and I'd been treating him like shit. I'm such a bitch. "Steve, I-"

"Forget it; I don't want your sympathy." He attempted to walk away, but I grabbed his wrist.

Don't ask why I did it.

My fingers firmly wrapped around Steve's wrist, and he didn't pull away for some unknown reason.

"I won't give you any sympathy then," I told him, confusion flashing across his facial features. "But I can make you a promise."

"What would that be?"

I loosened my grip on his wrist and gently stroked it with my thumb. 

What the fuck am I doing?

"Even if you don't believe me and still think I killed them. I promise you, Steve, I will get to the bottom of it, and I promise I'll find the true murderers."

Our eyes locked.

Here we go. Steve is going to say I killed them.

I watched as he inhaled and his lips parted.

You killed them.

Three words.

Say it.

A soft sniffle caught my attention. Glancing up, I noticed tears forming in the corner of Steve's eyes. In this light, his orbs seemed more green than hazel, but maybe it was due to the redness of the whites surrounding them.

"Steve?"

He did the unthinkable.

Steve pulled his wrist from my grip, and well, then I felt both his arms snake around my body and pull me flush against his chest.

He was hugging me.