Of course I was seated next to Cyrus as per Lana's intervention on the bus.
We're part of the same unit responsible for the equipment, and with Lana being in charge, she went out of her way to push Kernel aside and command Cyrus to the back to sit next to me.
She seated several others, but I felt like this was done intentionally. In any case, I didn't mind.
I did, and I kind of didn't.
I tried hard to keep my eyes focused on the window, I felt like there was a slight air of awkwardness remembering the shattering glass incident.
I know it wasn't a big deal, but for some reason it was to me.
Like how could I have just dropped it like that. Such an idiot, ugh.
Cyrus shifts from next to me, and I get the sense that he may be feeling... awkward too? Uncomfortable?
The vehicle finally starts and he stops shifting and settles down in his seat, a giant bag on his lap.
"So...how you feeling? Ready for this?" He asks looking at me,
I turn around, instantly met by an intense gaze, and oh my- his eyes were simply mesmerizing.
"I can't believe it's real; that this is actually happening."
"Yeah, I know it's insane." He pauses, then as if pulling from memory he follows up with,
"I would've never imagined that the day I saw you on the bus it'd lead me here. If you'd told me I'd be here a week ago, I'd never have believed it."
It takes a minute for his words to sink in,
"Wait, what? The day you saw me on the bus, what about it?"
"Remember, the tattoos, on the bus when I dropped you off?"
"Yeah of course I remember that day, it was my first time leaving the academy premises, but what does that have to do with you being here?" I turn to fully face him.
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first as if he's lost for words,
"After I dropped you off I completed my shift cycle and then...I came back to the academy. I'd been there before, I just never knew that someone who's been branded like me was there. I've been curious about this for the longest time and I was trying to find you to see if you had answers. And coincidently, in my search, I ran into Shayla, we did some-"
"Wait Shayla? You came across Shayla? You mean Shayla is- has a-?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing, of course she had to be tattooed too. Of course she had to, this is Shayla we're talking about, how could I believe that she'd be off my case in anything.
"Yes, she's marked, like us."
But how? My eyes instantly darted to the front of the bus where Shayla was sat next to Miles and somehow hadn't provoked him and gotten herself thrown out the window yet.
How did she get her branding? We've shared every day of our life for as long as I can remember, how could I not have found out about this?
"The first time I came to the academy I dropped you off and left. But I recognized the place; I was supposed to be assigned to this academy a long time ago. When I realized you might be related to the markings- I wanted to get some answers. I figured if I'd find you, I don't know, I might get some answers. So I came to the academy looking for you, and I ran into Shayla. Long story short, turns out she's marked too...and we might've, um...kept a close eye on you and Kernel...and now we're all here."
He's still looking at me with those eyes, twinkling and mesmerizing, digging deep into my own awaiting a response.
"Wow. I'm not gonna lie, that was unexpected. How come you guys didn't just confront us from the start?"
"I don't know, Shayla said it might be a bad idea or something, something about you two being irrational drama queens." He flashes a playful smile.
"She said we're irrational drama queens?" If we weren't heading into a highly-guarded building on a life threatening mission, I might've actually went up to the front of the bus and thrown her out the bus myself.
"To be fair I don't think that you are." he adds,
"To be fair I don't think that you're a drama queen either." I say and we both laugh.
As our laughter slowly dies down, my eyes land on his revealed wrist, various arches etched on his tan skin.
He notices me looking, "I made some changes to it," he says as he lifts his arm and places it between us, his wrist facing the both of us.
"I know a guy who was able to make some changes to the original tattoo I'd gotten at the government center. I didn't like the idea of the government owning me like that. Something about the marking felt wrong from the moment I got it. So, I had him add arches to the original, they were supposed to be dragon scales and he was going to eventually draw out a miniature dragon that extends to here." He drags his finger across his wrist to show me.
"But the guy disappeared shortly after. And that's when I began searching for answers."
His eyes shift focus from his wrist tattoo and back to me.
"What's yours look like?" He asks.
The uniforms we were handed out earlier today were full-sleeved, some people in our unit had pulled their sleeves up like Cyrus had, to accommodate the heat and humidity in the bus as our crammed bodies pumped out heat in the small space. But I hadn't bothered pulling mine up, my mind too preoccupied with other things, but now that he was asking, it occurred to me that I never paid much attention to what the tattoo actually looked like. I'd been so busy trying to hide it out of fear, I never took a proper look at it.
I slowly started to pull my sleeve up, keenly aware of Cyrus' gaze lingering on my wrist as the triangle etching came into view. Without notice, Cyrus's hands were suddenly over my wrist, touching it, holding it. One hand held my wrist, the other traced the delicate markings. Strangely enough, something about my arm being in his hand felt right, and I wondered if he felt it too. His hand radiated warmth, and I wished he'd keep on holding it for the rest of the ride. He traced the outline of the triangle, then moved on to the more delicate details drawn inside of it; a collection of minuscule geometric shapes.
To me it looked like a bunch of squares and lines and circles, but Cyrus was so concentrated on the etchings as he traced them, as if seeing something worth contemplating. His fingers lingered for a bit, and then he let go of my hand and the warmth was gone.
"That's interesting, they have no similarities." He says placing his arm next to mine, arms nearly touching.
Side by side, the drawings look completely different: one is more circular, the other clearly a triangle. Mine is filled with geometric shapes, his is filled with patterns. My arm is pulsing with an electric-like feeling at the proximity, but I try to ignore it as I scrutinize his tattoo more.
"What about these lines?" I ask noticing a set of matching small etchings visible on both of our wrists.
"Which ones?"
I touch a set of especially small lines on the side of one of the curves of the dragon's scale that's permanently engraved into his skin.
"There's six of them." I say, then proceed to count seven on mine. The lines were so small, yet despite this, their discernible height was easy to make out.
"None of them are the same height." Cyrus says as if reading my mind.
The only thing I could think of,
"Barcodes." We say at the same time.
"That's crazy. We'll have to investigate what this could mean once this mission is over." He says pulling his arm away.
"That's if we make it out alive today." I say tugging my sleeve back down despite the heat.
"C'mon have some faith, how hard can it be."
*** It's 1:40 am here ya'll not sure if what I wrote even made sense lol either way I hope to see you soon for another update that I have coming ;) ***