Bitten

Chapter Eighteen: Alive.

We sit down with our coffee and croissants. An adorable Australian Shepherd puppy lays on the bench beside me.

"So are you really staying here? Well in Shadowbank I mean. I remember Serena said you were just stopping by for a few days but that was months ago," I say curiously.

"Yeah well, it was supposed to be. But then something, or should I say someone, made me change my mind," he smirks. He is not talking about me. Why would someone who is free to go where ever they want, stay here just to be around a shy, boring girl like me?

I chuckle.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm serious," he states, "there is something about you I find very alluring, Rosalie."

I quickly take a drink of my coffee to hide my blushing face.

Yeah, there's something about you I find incredibly intimidating and all-consuming and suffocating yet at the same time safe and warm. I think to myself.

When I set my cup down he is smiling at me before looking away.

I pet the dog next to me to distract myself from him.

"So, do you always make a habit of writing about girls in your journal?" I ask, still not looking at him.

He chuckles, "only the ones that catch my attention."

I swallow.

It takes all of my courage but I meet his eyes and smirk, putting up false confidence.

"Right. And what is it about me that caught your attention?" I ask.

"Hm, let's see," he says, placing a finger on his chin, thinking.

An odd expression crosses his face before the smile retakes its place.

"I'll admit, it was first your remarkable beauty that attracted me to you. However, as soon as we spoke there was just something about you that made me feel... young again," he says. I furrow my eyebrows. Young again? How old is he?

He notices my confused expression.

"Well, how old are you?" I start to feel timid. What if he is actually older than I thought?

He smiles, showing off the pointed canine teeth.

"Probably older than you'd think," he asks. I swallow. I know age shouldn't matter to me, but I'm not sure how my Aunt Ruth would react to me dating an older guy and wouldn't it be kinda awkward meeting his friends and stuff. Oh my god, what if he is like 30! No, he couldn't possibly be.

"I'm twenty-one," he says smiling.

I breathe out a noticeable sigh of relief at his answer.

Okay, that's only like four years difference.

"Damn how old did you think I was?" He asks pretending to be offended.

I chuckle.

"No I didn't think you were that old but then you started saying you were probably older and I started second-guessing myself," I ramble.

He laughs.

"What?" I ask, even though I'm sure he's laughing because I'm rambling like an idiot.

"Nothing, you're just cute when you're nervous," he says. I raise an eyebrow.

"Who says I'm nervous?" I ask. He's obviously right but I'm not trying to be nervous, I'm trying to be the opposite, in fact.

"You're not?" He asks in a teasing manner.