The Flickers

7.  Different

            Tears instantly filled my eyes.

            “No… no, no, no, no!” I screamed, covering my face with my hands and sobbing.  I had never cried like this before… not even when my parents had died.  This was too much; overwhelming.  I hadn’t made it.  I wasn’t a Flicker anymore.  I wasn’t myself anymore…  “What-how… w-why?  Why me?”

            “I don’t have the answer to that…” the man murmured.

            I started to sit up; covering my face with my hands.  I was on the verge of a breakdown.

            “You really need to stay covered up until your temperature stabilizes…” he put his hand against my shoulder in an attempt to push me back down.

            With a move faster than he could comprehend, I had both hands on either side of his arm; popping his elbow out of place.

            He growled under his breath—a sound that sounded very animalistic—and winced, holding on to his now oddly-angled arm.

            “Don’t.  Touch.  Me.  Ever.”

            “God, I was just trying to help you out!”
            I grimaced; a expression that pulled my upper-lip up to show my teeth.

            Why am I doing that?

            “Nice to see you’ve already got that particular face down already…”

            “What are you talking about?” I spat.

            “Your snarl.”

            “Asshole…”

            “You’re just going to be loads of fun to take care of, aren’t you?”

            I stood up slowly; and quickly understood what he—I still didn’t know his name—had been talking about earlier.  As soon as more than half of my body was uncovered I was freezing.  I immediately started to shiver.

            “See I told you,” he muttered, grabbing an over-sized sweatshirt that had been laying over the back of a chair and throwing it at me.  I caught it and put it on without hesitation.

            “W-why am I s-so c-cold?” I managed to slur without biting my tongue off.

            “Because you died in the water… and the water was cold.”

            “What are you talking about?” I spat; I wasn’t a fan of cryptic messages.

            “When you make the change, you have to die in order to become an actual werewolf.  I’m sure you knew this already…” I nodded.  “Well, when you die, your body remains at the temperature at which it was when you took your last breath.”

            “How long does it stay like this?” I asked, forgetting for a second how much I hated him.  It was his eyes… they still held hatred for me, but the were so mesmerizing…

            “Until you go through your first phase… Even after then, your body temerature will be really susceptible  to your mood.” he murmured; he started to pace back and forth, clearly uncomfortable.  “Why are you staring at me?”