Snippets

Chapter 4

MY FRIENDS!!! Supreme apologies surely cannot make up for my neglect of you. So instead, I offer you a chapter. And before you read it, I must beg for your forgiveness and also, your writing skills. I wrote half of this many months ago, and coming back was ROUGH. Plus, I was in the middle of deciding if I was going to write in past or present tense, so I wrote some in past and some in present, and I'm not sure if I got all of it converted to PAST tense, which is what I THINK I've decided on. As I said, it's ROUGH, I had a difficult time getting back into character, and this is the raw first draft. I will come back later once I'm feeling my characters better and re-script this chapter, but until then, enjoy it ;)

(Shaf POV)

Moving through the pub, I felt like I was in a daze. So much was happening, what did Kiza mean, my future? Wasn't my future the step I just took? And now that's the past? I sighed, pulling my fingers through my tangled hair in a half-hearted attempt to freshen up for whatever this "future" was.

So distracted was I, with such trivial matters, that I failed to notice the boot placed partially in my path until I had proved gravity's existence.

The floor was all-too-happy to see me, littered, as it was, with stagnant puddles of old liquor. The smell was less than appetizing, and I immediately pushed myself upward, at first surprised at how strong I had grown since I practically flew to my feet! Then I felt the heavy grasp of a hand – the source of my sudden superhuman strength – and braced myself as the hand spun me to meet the owner.

He smiled.

I blinked, taking in the way his smile crinkled his eyes and lit them up. Moth-eaten clothes crawled across his thin arms, surprising me, as most men who come through pubs are decently muscled. What he lacked physically, however, he made up in facial features. A clean-cut jaw boasted high cheekbones; framing those ever-sparkling, vigilant eyes amid long, lush lashes any girl would look at enviously. He was clean-shaven, a suspicious anomaly that might belie his otherwise grubby show.

Yep, I'd definitely never seen this guy before.

A moment of silence passed between us.

"Well," he began, his smile trembling, "I believe it's common courtesy to thank someone once they've helped you up off the ground."

I couldn't help but give a snort of laughter, "Oh, aye, common--especially when they have purposefully tripped you." I glared at him.

He let go of my jacket like I'd slapped him, and I was privately relieved to have control of my body once again (for all that it seemed he didn't posses much muscle, he sure had a grip!). His face registered first shock, then guilt, and finally innocence. Or at least an attempt at it--I'd seen better, and I raised an eyebrow to let him know that.

"Oh, what do you mean purposefully?" He snorted, "Can a fellow not sit comfortably at a booth?"

I graced him with my silence.

He matched my raised eyebrow, "I'll take that as a no, and refrain from comfort in my future happenings."

"Count yourself wise for such a decision, if you think you deserve it." I replied curtly, beginning to move away.

"Hold up, Shaffron, I have something I need to tell you."

I turned and peered at his face again, yep, he definitely wasn't from around here, yet he knew my name. Creepy. I reluctantly faced him again, perking an eyebrow higher.