Run Away With Me

Chapter 2: Nao the Stranger.

When we reach a small plain of grass he drops me down, sitting down beside me. I notice a sheen trail of sweat trailing down his forehead as I sit up, wiping one of my own.

I take precautions against this unknown person and shuffle back, resting my back against a trunk of a tree, pushing my bag behind the arch of my back. My eyes travel over his appearance, trying to take in as much information.

A bundle of pitch black hair rests on his head, resembling the dots of freckles he has across his pale cheeks and nose. He has a muscled and strong body, yet coupled with a boyish look.

Eighteen years old, give or take.

I see how he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, resting his hands on his knees as if meditating. I study him for awhile, trying to figure out his angle. Of course I can't, since I'm not a mind-reader.

"Hey," I call, and his eyes snap open. I hold a breath when the brightest hazel registers on my color receptors, making me blink at the beauty of it.

On a scale of one to ten he's... a ten, maybe a twelve.

Good job, God, good job.

I wonder why he's staring at me when I remember that I called him. "W-why did you help me?"

He cocks his head to the side and points at my waist. I glance to where he's pointing and see the black bag peaking out. "I want that." I- I'm, uh, I'm slightly... um, urgh, distracted by his voice. If I manage to sell his eyes and vocal cords I would be rich.

But the issue at hand.

"What?" I didn't catch what he said at all, blame his smooth voice.

"I've been following you for a few days." Not only do I suck at being a wolf, but also at sensing someone tracking me. Hey, is that...? Yeah, that's my self-confidence reaching a new low! Yay, me. "And I've seen you use it." Use what? Sweetie, I didn't catch what you said because of your voice. "I want it." Want what?

"What do you want?"

"The bottle that erases scents." His face is calm and emotionless, what surprises me since I'm sure I'm being annoying.

At his request, however, I narrow my eyes, put off. He wants something I work an arm and a leg for every month so I don't have weres and other supernaturals fucking me?

"Get your own." I go to stand up, but my hollow stomach makes itself known and I stumble back down. I laugh; I actually forgot that I'm hungry. Sudden tears well up in my eyes when loneliness racks my emotions.

Being a lone wolf isn't so great. The imbalance it creates can make you break out in tears when you're having the best day of your life. This isn't really the best day of my life, but... anyway.

He falls silent at my sudden display of weakness and I don't have the strength to reprimand myself. I hold my index finger out and shovel in my bag for the now-scrunched-up bag. Inside there's brown bread, an apple, water and juice.

A small smile lingers on my face as I take a bite of the bread, tears still running down my eyes. Halfway through my food he speaks up.

"Are you okay?" His emotionless mask breaks when he eyebrows scrunches up in worry, I nod and finish up my bread in a bite, pushing it in my mouth and swallowing it. I drink a bit of the water.

The tears stop on their own, as always, and I get the reigns of my emotions again. "Why do you want it?" If I'm allowed to judge a book by its cover, he seems to be a strong guy, fast on his legs and appears to be able to fight. The potion is mainly used by sneaky or weak fellows and he doesn't seem to be either.