Icarus

Nice

Nice

"We have to talk," Cassie said when she saw Tate's eyes peering through the door.

Tate hated the how she pronounced some words. Like the way she made the word talk sound so elegant, as if talking was such an important thing to do. Maybe for her everything was important, like a form of art, but not for him. Talking was just... talking.

"Fuck off."

"I need answers."

He was about to close the door when he noticed a bruise on Cassie's forehead that stood out like a violet stain on a white canvas. He felt guilty; he had left Cassie to fend for herself when she was lying on the concrete floor unconscious. At lease he could have called an ambulance... but then she was immortal so why bother.

Tate scratched his head and grumbled. Cassie woke him up from his nap. What was he dreaming about her-the sky and the sun, the same colors of Cassie's eyes and hair but he would never admit it. His excuse, he didn't remember most of the dream. He just remembered her.

And there she was; not exactly an apparition from a dream, but close. Cassie couldn't think the same about him, he had dark circles under his eyes-like he hadn't slept very well, messy hair and he was wearing different shades of black clothes, contrasting with her white blouse and jeans. If she was a dream, he was a nightmare.

"How do you know where I live?" Tate asked while opening the massive wooden door. Cassie entered and strutted down the hallway, looking at every picture hung on the walls, touching the frames gently as if they were made of sharp glass. She sighed. "It was Piero, right?"

"Where are your parents? You don't have any pictures of them." Her question took him by surprise. Tate cleared his throat and bit his lips. He coughed a few times before answering.

"I live with my grandma."

Cassie scowled at Tate. She knew that living with his grandmother wasn't the reason because he would at least have a picture of his parents. Either way, she didn't question him further.

"I need to know what happened yesterday," she stated, "And I won't move from here until you tell me."

"Sorry for that," he said, while pointing at Cassie's forehead and like a reflex, she touched it.

"No, don't tell me you're sorry, tell me what happened." They stared in silence. Tate took something out of his pocket and a minute later he had the glow of a little fire between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke through his mouth. Cassie coughed and rolled her eyes, she didn't believe any of his bad boy antics.

"The less you know the better." He arched one of his thick eyebrows. Folding his arms on his chest, he grinned and leaned on the door.

"Don't pull your mystery-man act on me, Tate Ryder Hayes." Cassie challenged while pressing her finger on Tate's chest. He laughed and imagined her finger as a small dagger.

"Okay, okay! Clam down princess. My grandma is sleeping in the room next to us. So keep quiet while we go to my room, got it? I'll explain everything soon." He turned around heading toward the end of the hallway.

"Don't call me princess or I'll -." She started to follow him, but couldn't keep up with his long strides.

"What, shoot me again? You better not bring a gun into my house," he hissed.

"I might or might not have one in my bag," she teased. Tate laughed, it was a short and low laugh but Cassie looked at him. It was the first time she heard him laughing for real instead of one of his stupid satirical grins or smirks. His laugh echoed in her head as if it was an empty cave. The only thing she could think of at the moment was him. She had to focus; she needed to know what happened the day before.