The Search For Dakota Thompson

Chapter 17:

"One person's decision may change the fate of another. And one moment can entirely change a person. So much so their previous self can no longer be recognised. One person can be lost as another resurfaces. A single action can change someone and everything known to them."

He laughed at the excerpt in the paper. Leaning over the table, tipping the paper as I did, I was confused entirely, "you speak french?"

Lykan eyed me through a hooded gaze. "Don't underestimate me Cali. That's your first mistake." He smirked with a sly wink, my eyes rolling in response. His words were cold but his expression was playful, and my response suitably so.

That night was odd. We both lay awake, in silence almost, listening to each others heartbeats. It's as if laying there that night, knowing-yet not knowing-our own thoughts, revealed more of ourselves than we had wished to.

Lykan had became more relaxed and in turn so did I. Yet when left with my thoughts I spaced. It was a dark place, and I was starting to loose grip of it. But Lykans new found attitude helped. It helped a lot.

"I lived here for just over a year. I only know how to read French though." Lykan hummed, folding the paper and setting it on the table.

We were at a café. It was small, quiet, content. It seemed as if Lykan had changed. He was calm. He was being nice to me, for the first time since I met him, I think.

It was as if last night had changed us both. I was absent while Lykan was present. I was cold-hearted while Lykan was comforting.

I know we both realised something. Both different that each other's realisation. I knew my own, but what he realised played on my mind. What could a man who seemingly knew everything he could, realise something?

The bitter taste of black coffee poured at my lips as I simply observed Lykan. The way he drank his coffee with a look of distaste on his face. How carefully he held the cup, as if his touch would break the ceramic. Both arms raised, both holding his coffee, clasped around one another, raised to cover his lips and his nose.

The small scars which lined his cheekbones and the ones which grazed his knuckles. How his jawline defined his neck and where his dark hair faded into his hairline. How strong the bridge of his nose looked despite the many times it had been broken.

I watched him. How his eyes closed so softly when he blinked, and how his gaze was directed to the table. The way his grip slackened on the cup, lowering it slightly. And how his lips curved as he raised his gaze to mine, the cold blue looking oddly warm; the way the shade had changed, the way it was darker, happier. His knowing laugh, which resonated in my ears, matched the expression in his eyes.

Wait.

He was looking at me. Immediately I looked away. I felt the hot flush of embarrassment rise up to my cheeks. Oh God.

"And to think," at his voice I swallowed hard and avoided his gaze, "I thought you weren't attracted to me." I looked back at him. His eyes were laced with amusement. After a few seconds Lykan began laughing, deeply and lightly. I tried my hardest to bite back a smile but I couldn't, not when he was looking at me like that, with light in his eyes.

"Who said I wasn't attracted to you?" I hummed, not once regretting my words.

His eyebrow shot up, a smile on his on his face. "So you are?"

I cleared my throat, standing from the small table we were seated at. Lykan remained seated, laughing as if I was the one to make him laugh. As if someone like me has the capability to make a boy like him smile, to offer him a flicker of light in his dark world.