DON'T STARE. HIDE HAIR.
  • Reads 2,606
  • Votes 819
  • Parts 47
  • Time 6h 52m
  • Reads 2,606
  • Votes 819
  • Parts 47
  • Time 6h 52m
Complete, First published Jan 30, 2019
Mature
They say when a boy stares at a girl's eyes that means he likes her...but in our case it's the moment you know you might be in danger.

They say girls are obsessed with their hair...but in our case, our hair identifies our identity. So we have to hide it.

They say your past is the cause of your presence...but in our case the past is our weakness.

We're immortals but that doesn't mean we can't be killed. We can by hunters.
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"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.