Lucas ✔️

Twenty-Four

Janie was speaking to me, saying something about leaving, but the blood pumping through my ears blocked the noise and all I could think about was him. He had been gone for days when I got the call from the police when they asked me to make my way down to the station. When they pulled the sheet back to reveal his bloated body. When I cried and sobbed but couldn't even stand the sight of him. I couldn't even hug him goodbye, as his body was falling apart and rotting.

"W-what?" I stuttered, looking at her with wide eyes as my brain began to focus on her mouth. She eyed me warily, but it was Cole who spoke up.

"I said, I'm gonna take her home. Do you need a lift?" He asked me, standing up and sending me an odd look. I thought about it for a moment but shook my head. I lived in the opposite direction from both Janie and Cole; they lived on the good side of town and I didn't.

"I'm fine, I'll walk." Cole opened his mouth to protest but I held up my hand and waved it dismissively. "Seriously, it's fine. Jodie will want Janie home straight away. It's not even that dark yet, I'll just walk."

"Fine," he grumbled as he eyed me. "Text me when you get home but, please? Better yet, Lucas, can you take her home?" Janie scooted out of the booth after him, sending me a small grin and mouthing a 'sorry'. I shrugged at her, lifting my phone and shaking it, signalling I would text her later.

"Sure," Lucas said coolly, sending a nod to Cole. "I'll get her home safely."

"You better," Cole said gruffly, sending me a goodbye nod and dragging Janie out the door. "Nice to meet you," she called over her shoulder, waving at us both.

"I like him," Lucas said, turning to look at me as he rested his chin on his palm.

"Yeah," I breathed out, leaning back in the seat and letting my head look at the roof. "Me too."

"You've lost weight," he commented, his hand reaching out to grab a lock of my red hair, twirling it in his finger lightly before he let it drop.

"You noticed?" I said, trying not to blush at his intense look.

"Mmmm," he hummed as he eyed me. I swore his eyes could read me instantly as though he could read all the horrible memories flashing in my eyes. "You also look tired," he commented, as though listing all the reasons I looked like shit wasn't going to make me self-conscious. "Is it the ghouls?" he asked, gesturing to the ones resting on me.

"Not really. As you heard, there's been some issues around town." I let out a sigh and closed my eyes, wishing I was in bed.

"Missing girls is referred to as an issue?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Only one girl from here," I muttered.

"Seems like 'issue' is a bit of an understatement, don't you think?"

"I guess," I shrugged, opening my eyes and turning to look at him, keeping my head rested so my face was still towards the ceiling. "What would you call it?"

"Hmm," he hummed quietly, leaning forward slightly closer to my face. A small blush rose up my neck and heated my ears, but I didn't move away from him. His eyes, dark and deep, kept me captive as they flickered between mine. "How about 'coordinated attack'?"

"That doesn't even make sense," I said as I furrowed my eyebrows. "Then it would say 'there's been some coordinated attacks around town'?" I paused before sitting up and looking at him. "You think they are coordinated attacks? Why?"

"Just a hunch," he said with a glance out the window before he leant back.

"A hunch? That sounds like more than a hunch."

I felt out of place like I shouldn't be here, like Lucas was a bad idea. I could head Dad's voice in my head, telling me to be careful, to leave. But I couldn't. Even though he sounded sketchy, and all sorts of wrong, I knew he wasn't bad. I just... knew. Even with the insensitive comments, horrible timing, and dodgy secrets, I just couldn't leave. It was like something was pinning me to the chair, pinning me to him, and the more I saw him the harder it was to leave.

"Well, call it business, then," he said smoothly, sending me a look which left me more confused.

"Business? So, it has something to do with work, then? What, are you FBI or something?" I questioned, leaning forward and resting my arms on the table, propping my head up with my hand. I knew, deep down, that I should be feeling something for Layla, something more than what I was, but it was like I had no emotions left. As though I were simply a shell of who I was in the past.

That's your fault too, Dad.

Maybe that's why I liked Lucas – because he made me feel something at every moment, whether that was embarrassment, shame, interest, confusion, lust. He made me feel more human than I had felt for months.

"Definitely no FBI," he laughed, shaking his head, causing the long lock of hair to fall from behind his ear.

I watched it float softly to caress his face and reached up, grabbing it and twirling it in my own fingers like he had done to my hair. He paused, watching me intently as his eyes darkened. Leaning forward I twirled the hair tightly around my finger, relishing in the softness and darkness that seemed to swallow any light that touched it. Lucas jerked suddenly, and his hand gripped my wrist tightly, his fingers wrapping around my small wrist easily. His grip was firm but not tight, and the touch that I disliked before I loved now. His hand felt like it was on fire and I froze, looking into his darkening eyes with a shocked stare.

"Lilith, enough of that now," he muttered huskily, his voice coming out low and rough, a complete change to his normally musical tone. Heat flooded through my body and I pulled my knees together tightly, swallowing lightly at his intense stare as I tried to pull my wrist from his grip.

"O-okay," I murmured back, leaning closer to him instead of further away, but letting the hair around my finger unwind and fall away. He stared at me for a moment longer before he blinked and released my hand, leaning away and looking out the window with a small cough.

I pulled my hand back to me, holding it flush against my chest as the heat from his grip didn't leave my wrist. I rubbed it gently, looking down at the slightly red mark of his handprint. It should have scared me, being touched hard enough to leave a mark, as though he had branded me his own, but instead, it intrigued me and left me with a small smile of happiness, along with a small shiver of pleasure.

"Shall we get you home?" He asked, turning to look at me once more with his light eyes. It didn't make sense – there's no way for someone's eyes to change colour without it being a trick of lighting or eye contacts. But here I was, witnessing Lucas' eyes change between light brown and pitch black and back, all in a matter of seconds.

"Sure, only if you're walking me home," I commented offhandedly, standing up with a nod of my head as I decided I didn't care. I didn't care why his eyes changed. I didn't care what he did for work. I didn't care if he was older than me. I just didn't care. This was what I wanted, so it's what I was going to do.

"Of course," he smiled, slipping out of the booth after me smoothly. "I wouldn't let a lady walk home alone. Especially not in these dangerous times."

"You sound like you're from some olden times movie," I laughed. "Can't you talk more normally?"

"You don't like the way I talk?" He inquired, cocking his head to the side and looking at me innocently with his gorgeous eyes.

"On the contrary," I muttered, looking away as heat flooded my face. "I like it too much."