Exception [discontinued]

11. Nostalgia

(Nico)
I felt the bed shift suddenly as Will stood. I listened curiously to his quick, almost frantic footsteps toward to the far side of the room, the bathroom door slamming shut. Only then did I sit up.

I looked over my shoulder at the place that beast had been moments ago. I wondered briefly what had made him leave so quickly before reminding myself that I didn't care. I huffed. Okay, I was a little curious.

Bored, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and started looking through the drawer of the nightstand. In the top, I found a small, leather-bound book that had been turned over I couldn't see the title. I, being nosy, picked it up, turned it over in my hands, and nearly dropped it when I saw the words printed in shiny golden lettering.

Holy Bible.

I'd never thought a vampire could be religious. Then again, I'd also never thought a vampire could be peaceful, yet here I was. I set the book back into the drawer and slipped off the bed onto the floor so I could open the one below it.

Newspaper articles. Lots of them. Some from New York Times, others from National Geographic. A few were in languages I didn't recognize. Upon closer inspection, I found that they all had on thing in common; they all involved unexplained injuries of people or animals. One in particular featured a park in which over fifty rodents and birds had been littered dead, all of which had the same two puncture-wounds. The article explained that it was most likely a hawk's doing, but to me, it was obvious. Why did Will have all these? Was it a reminder to stay under the radar? Just a hobby? I didn't understand. Frustrated, I closed the drawer just as Will's voice echoed across the room, startling me into standing and whipping around to face him.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," he said, wiping his mouth with his hand. Some part of me, in the back of my mind, wondered what he was wiping away.

"Yeah, but satisfaction brought it back," I said, finishing the phrase sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes. "Smart boy; not many people know the whole thing." I nodded at the complement. At least, I thought it was a compliment. "May I ask why you were looking through my bedside table?"

I shrugged in what I hoped was convincing indifference while I prayed his wasn't going to lash out at me or something. "I got bored." At least I had experience keeping my voice steady while facing these beasts. I stared him straight in the eyes. Why was he smirking?

"Your heart is racing," he said. I could tell he was having trouble containing his mirth as my face flushed. "I'm not going to rip your head off, Cutie, I just wanted to know why you were going through my stuff is all." Well, he sounded light-hearted enough.

I sighed. "Well, I was telling the truth. I got bored. Also, there's this thing called scientific curiosity."–he snorted at my joking tone–"Just what do vampires keep in their nightstands, huh? What is the norm as far as personal belongings go? You did bring me here to learn more about about your exotic culture, after all." He was laughing loudly by the time I finished talking.

"He can joke! It's a miracle!" he practically yelled. I couldn't help but agree with him just then. I couldn't remember the last time I'd really joked, and it felt incredibly good. I felt the corners of the my mouth twitching upward. "AND HE HAS A BEAUTIFUL SMILE!!!"

"Sh-shut up," I stuttered, covering the lower half of my face (including my heated cheeks) with my hand.

Will just chuckled, ruffling my hair with his hand. "You're so cute."

I slapped his hand away and shot him a death glare. "Get off!" He chuckled again. What was with this guy?

(Will)
"Okay, Cutie, why don't we go get some breakfast, huh?"

Nico just rolled his eyes and gestured at the door. I rolled my own and made my way to the kitchen, looking over my shoulder to make sure he was following. I had to resist the urge to grab his hand for fear of coming on too strong.

"I hope you like pancakes and bacon," I said over my shoulder, "And maybe eggs, though it's all I've eaten all week, and frankly, I'm sick of it."

"Er, yeah, that's fine," he said quietly, causing me to look over my shoulder. What happened to the sarcastic joking boy I was talking to moments ago? Was Nico bipolar or something?

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked.

He seemed a little too surprised by my concern. "Yeah, why?" Yep, far too startled. It was like his was afraid of me, or rather, my anger. I couldn't really blame him, but it still stung, still reminded me that I could, in fact, hurt him easily if I wanted to. I hated it.

I let the subject drop, however, and snatched the eggs from the refrigerator.

"I thought you didn't want eggs," Nico said sheepishly. I wished he was more confident.

"I don't; I'm making the pancakes," I said, grabbing the flour.

Something stirred in Nico's eyes. "You're making them from scratch?" he asked with sudden interest.

"What, do people not do that do that anymore?" I asked with a smirk that would hopefully encourage this behavior, hopefully help him to see me as more of a human than a monster.

It worked–he chuckled. "No, not really," he said, smiling nostalgically, "My sister used to make them from scratch. Heh, she would add something sweet like caramel or cinnamon on special occasions. She did have a sweet tooth..." He trailed off and caught himself, his expression becoming guarded, desolate. It made me sad.

"What did she look like?" I asked. I wanted to break down at least part of this wall that he'd built up around himself; I wanted to figure him out.

He stared blankly for a moment, then his hands darted to his pockets. "Um.." He extracted a folded bit of paper and handed it to me. "Here."

I unfolded it and gasped. A young girl, maybe twelve, smiled up at me. She had Nico's striking chocolate brown eyes, but her skin was a bit a darker, and her hair, pulled into a lazy braid over her shoulder, was a bit more on the brown side. Her wore a beige pea coat with a matching skirt. The clothes she wore were simple, and her feature weren't quite developed in her young age, but she was beautiful. Then I realized it was a coloured pencil drawing. "Did you draw this?" I asked, awestruck.

He nodded sheepishly. "I drew it two years after she died. My dad destroyed all the pictures off her before he disappeared. I found that one in the bottom of a closet and decided to draw it. The day after, one of my dad's friends saw me looking at the picture and ripped it up. So now I just keep that one on me."

"Wow.. How old were you? When she died, I mean."

"I was ten," he said, staring at the floor.

I made a sound a distaste. "That's way too young to deal with those things.." I put a hand on his shoulder and heard him sniff. I lifted his chin with my thumb and forefinger to confirm my suspicions; he was crying. I cupped his face and used my thumbs to wipe his tears away. "You know," I said, "I don't have any caramel, but I do have a surplus of cinnamon." He smiled back, this time a larger, toothy grin.

"Okay."

"You have your sister's smile..."

Word count: 1309

I MADE AN EXTRA LONG CHAPTER TO MAKE UP FOR NOT UPDATING ALL WEEK!!!

I am a lazy author.....