Aliens
Eddison Cognitor
We were foreign here among these people. And they made sure we knew it. Though it was only Steele's waitstaff, they met us with shifty eyes, sharp words, and stopped talking whenever we walked into the room. Brooklyn had been trying to figure them out for hours, hiding in our room while I ventured the vast expanse of land Steele owned. I could get no one to respond to me when I asked a question. Truthfully, they didn't speak to us at all. They showed us to our room and announced when meal times were. After that, they only spoke amongst themselves.
I had no idea what could cause complete strangers to turn up their nose to us without even really speaking a word, but they all did just that.
We arrived two days early to Adamas' address; this is what I was hoping caused the odd behavior. I had planned on stopping and getting a hotel room for Brooklyn and I for the two nights on the drive down here, but she insisted we keep on the path. She was too nervous to stop and try to sleep. Though she didn't admit this out loud, I knew she couldn't have slept even if we had a bed to lie on because she didn't sleep during the whole trip. She would pretend to, probably more for my sake, when it was my turn to drive, but I knew her too well.
What really worried me most, though was that we were informed that Steele was supposed to arrive a few days before we even showed up. That made him now a minimum of three days late to his own soirée.
"You'll be joined by the others shortly," the petite blonde that wore the Steele crest on her chest left us alone in the royal blue conference room.
We sat at an oval stainless steel table, taking up two of the seven chairs around it. I took the chair next to the head of the table with Brooklyn to my right. She continuously fidgeted, her anxieties getting the better of her. I hadn't seen her shook up like this since before we got together. Even placing my hand on her leg to stop it from jiggling up and down didn't ease her tensions.
"Others?" she whispers to me in fear, despite ourselves being the only two in the room.
I smile at her, trying to give any reassurance I could by taking her hand in mine. "It's fine. We're fine."
She didn't believe me.
So for the next eight minutes, I watched her slowly fall apart next to me. And I couldn't even begin to tell you what really concerned her, what was stirring behind her ocean eyes, that were now the color of the water when the waves are as great as the sky and the storm on the water attempts to swallow your vessel whole. She was much more dangerous when she was like this. And anybody else should be scared. But I knew well enough that she could handle this stress, handle the heart stopping fear. Most importantly, I knew she wouldn't harm anyone, no matter how out of control she felt.
"I love you," I tell her, my thumb starting to rub across the back of her hand just as the door opens again.
The woman who lead us into the room enters first, but behind her is a man--more like a boy because of his thin stature--with dark curly hair on the top of his head. He wears larger, square shaped black glasses that seem to draw attention to his matching larger nose. His outfit seemed casual, like Brooklyn and I's were, but when he turned to face us, his jacket and khaki pants turned into a neatly pressed button up and dress slacks. He said nothing, nor did he look at us as he took the seat across from me. I wouldn't even be able to tell you the color of his eyes because of his will to not face us.
Brooklyn nudges me, eyes meeting mine, seeming to have possibly calmed down the tempest behind them, but only in the slightest. I can't tell what she's trying to tell me, and it seems in a spurt of confidence, she speaks.
