For six years I have been alone – the first four years not counting because my benefactor, Monra, was a lit guy – and while I always craved to be with someone I always held myself back.
When Monra died I was so lost that I created thick, iron walls around me, refusing the help of his relatives. It's not like they wanted to help me anyway, they only thought of me as Monra's pest.
It made me so afraid that they would drive a knife in my back before I even turned eleven, so I ran away. I ran away because I was scared, I ran away because I'd rather be alone than be rejected.
So I'm currently in a stalemate.
Do I honor the vow I made when I was ten years old or do I change my ways and be what my nature orders me to be?
The fact that old memories are resurfacing when I already half-convinced myself that I would stick to Nao like bad luck does to me, is scary, like I myself am telling me that what I'm sticking a foot in is bad.
I pause from knocking on the door, thinking my life choices right in the middle of Georgy, the city of organized crime, or as I'd like to call it. The door, if opened, leads into the home of an excellent information dealer that beat me half to death once.
Raquel Vasquez.
Also a bit of my mentor.
I swallow the lump of indecision down and knock. I take a step back on the porch and wait for the grizzly old man to open up.
A young petite woman with electric blue hair opens the door, cracking a smile when she sees me. "Loopie!" she smiles, opening the door wider for me to enter. I've never seen this woman before in my life. Raquel never had friends, if you know what I mean, and guessing by her familiarity and wide grin, this must be his new guise.
"Oooh, I didn't know such a hot one would be your new face." She comes on par with me on height, our head on the same level, but her body is covered with curves and meat, a sharp look making her sexier. I know Raquel worked hard to create his new body and he succeeded, aesthetic wise.
"Merci, I did my best with this one and I swear, people have been treating me like I'm the Sun." She winks at me from over her shoulder and pulls me into the dining room, cookies and a single cup of tea on the table.
This is going to get some getting used to, since Raquel was a somber old man.
Raquel, or whatever his name is now, is what the people in the supernatural community would call a body shifter, and falls under the same category as werewolves, werecats, bird-shifters and the likes.
This basically means that he can change and personalize his body at will, but this is a difficult process that if gone wrong will make you look like a deformed human for quite some time.
He made such mistake five years ago. He tried for a sixty-something divorced man who came to live in Georgy. The body came out with a crooked jaw and one eye, but he seemed to like the appearance and so did most of the people in town, so it didn't bother him so much.
"With who do I have the pleasure?" I couldn't exactly keep calling him Raquel. The change of persona didn't only influence him, but also the people around him who knew of his true identity. It's a bother and quite difficult to change habits, but it is something that's needed.
Besides, I respect him enough do to it. He's great at what he does, employs me from time to time and his acting skills are phenomenal, to the point you have no choice but to go along with it.
"Bonjour, je suis la nouvelle assistant de directeur de la boutique de vêtements au centre commercial, Claudette Bleu." I laugh at her exaggerated French accent that she rocks. I understand every last word that she says, having been taught the language by Monra.
YOU ARE READING
Run Away With Me
Werewolf"Fishy kisses are better than kisses," I say, the words coming out of nowhere, "and like that, two people together are better than marriage." "What are you talking about?" "Nothing really," I sigh, hunching over myself more to trap the warmth, "it'...
