Eternal Hourglass

[] Chapter One []

Huff, huff, huff.

His uneven breathing seemed to be heard for miles to his ears. He was running track, again and again until he beat his rivals highest score. Jackson, his name was. The son of a bitch that humiliated him in front of so many people, in front of her. Pit pat, pit pat, pit pat. Rain fell down onto the soft concrete the track had and onto his skinny body. The drops fell down his face and caused for his messy hair to fall in his eyes. He knew this place well though, as he was here every single day. Every day, until he was good enough. 

"Stefan! Dinners ready!" A females voice was heard, however very faint.

Stefan slowed down and just about collapsed. His dirty blonde hair glittered in the moonlight, his soft blue eyes showed signs of tiredness, and his pale skin was dripping with sweat and rain. Ever so slowly, he picked himself back up and stared up to the moon.

"Stefan! C'mon it's late already and you're gonna get soaked! "

His eyes darted past the fence and to the backyard. The female had the windows open and she was sitting on the kitchen counter. She was beautiful, he thought. She would have messy short hair that was dyed a pastel pink, round glasses that didn't fit and always slid down to the tip of her nose. She had dark freckles and some skin condition where it had white splotches all over her. He knew he had no chance though. Despite her innocent look, she could really do some damage. Stefan would sigh and jumped the fence, walking over to the kitchen window.

" Jeez, you smell and look like shit. I'll open the door. " She would give him a disgusted look before sliding off the counter and disappearing out of the kitchen.

Stefan smiled gently, before walking to the back door. The house was small, yes, but it was the closest to the college campus. His mind was circling around the thoughts of another female though, one with long black hair and pale green eyes. She was also out of his league but at least he tried to get her attention. The female opened the door, and backed away.

"Kalypso, I don't stink that bad do I?" Stefan joked and walked into the house, going straight to the bathroom. He had a pronounced British accent, but somewhat Americanised.

Kalypso scoffed and closed the door. She would watch him leave to the bathroom, her eyes softened. Her mind trailed to the first time they met, when he was on the ground curled up in a ball.

"I'm fine. I'm okay, I always have been." His voice was cracked, and broken. He was uncontrollably crying on the sidewalk while his arms had trails of the thick red liquid rolling down them. 

Kalypso walked up the crying boy, noticing his scars. Back then, she had long brown hair and contacts. "What's wrong?"

"M-My dad. He's gone insane a-again.. Please help me- Moms going to leave again" He looked up at her. She could see that he recognised her.  "Luna?"

Kalypso kneeled down, softly hugging him. "It's okay. I'll help you through this, okay?"

Kalypso would turn her head away, biting her lip. He doesn't remember her now and that's the good thing. She walked over to the kitchen table, picking up the daily newspaper. Despite it being the new age, she didn't really care. She didn't have enough money for a phone. Her eyes trailed to the side, seeing the criminal. 

"William Vales had recently escaped the St. Louis Jail. If you see this man, please contact 911 immediately." She whispered to herself.

Kalypso would set the paper down, glancing to the bathroom. Stefan was singing along to his favourite song as normal. Her glassy hazel eyes would drift back to the newspaper before placing it down and stepping toward the window. Ever so carefully, she pulled out few pieces of Chamomile out of a glass jar and placing them down by a tea kettle. Kalypso walked over to the sink and ran it for a short moment in a measuring cup, before carefully dumping it into the tea kettle. Her hands drifted toward the oven and flicked the switch on. Her mind was calm from any thought that would normally be there. It always did, when she decided to cook or make any kind of drink. Baking always stressed her out for some reason. She would turn around and walked over to the fridge again and grabbed some leftover noodles.