Second Fate

4

„You."

I'd forgotten how much a single one of his words could convey – this one carried, beside his astonishment, the regret of picking this specific route and the self-loathing of being too polite to leave without an exchange. Even his eyes were saying: I managed to avoid you for 7 years, why now?

"Nice to see you too", I said, wanting to comment on his exaggerated reaction with my tone of voice. But for some reason, the words came out much nicer than intended.

I was glad to see him, no matter how much I tried to tell myself otherwise.

A strained silence spread between us, while I avoided the fir green eyes which were scanning me. I knew what they'd done to me in the past and I wasn't ready to embarrass myself again. I couldn't help but remember those moments, even after I'd tried to dissolve them in Vodka and Gin.

"Did you ... were you out on a run?"

The question was superfluous because Vine wasn't wearing a single item of clothing. It was only thanks to a thorny berry bush between us that he wasn't fully in view.

I glared at the shrubbery.

"Yes, but I was about to turn back." His voice was dripping with regret. "I didn't plan on running into you, especially not ... like this. Usually, no one's out here, so I've become careless."

"You don't have to justify being in the woods." Or apologize for your carelessness, I added in thoughts. After all, I knew exactly who – or rather, what – he was.

Apart from Jenny or me, it was near impossible for him to stumble across someone human. The pack had chosen its camp strategically to avoid any issues with the locals. Except for the winding street passing by the mansion and Jenny's house, this part of the forest was entirely undisturbed. Perfect for a serial killer's hide-out – or for a pack of werewolves who were trying to escape public attention.

Vine didn't answer me, not even to avoid the small talk becoming more awkward than it already was. He obviously hadn't changed; he only spoke, when there was something he wanted to express; his broad shoulders, covered in scars, were stiff by habit; and the fir green eyes in his square face were wandering over my features as if he was trying to predict my next move. But caution was in each of his movements and took away from his threatening build.

"Caitlyn and Neal should be back at the mansion already", I continued calmly. "Rune wasn't in the mood for dessert at Jenny's."

I'd raised my voice to bring some order to this mess of a conversation. One of us had to and I couldn't seem to expect it from Vine. Maybe it was the lack of fabric between us which was paralyzing his brain cells.

He raised his hands before he quickly lowered them again. He seemed unsure whether to use them to gesticulate or to cover his private parts.

"Thanks ... and again, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ... I wouldn't have turned back and gone this way if I'd known you–"

"It's not an issue", I repeated, my voice sounding thinner than planned. Was he more anxious about his lack of clothes or our meeting? "I don't care, so don't make a big deal out of it. It's weird."

The mild autumn breeze brought movement to the blanket of leaves, which covered the forest ground, and woke Vine from his stupor.

"I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable."

He touched his neck, which the short brown waves didn't reach. Despite the situation, I couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to run my fingers through that hair.

How did he have the same effect on me after 7 years with no contact?

I felt a wave of annoyance well up inside. After my promise to Vine, I'd sworn to myself that I wouldn't fall for this strange chemistry again but the longer the conversation went on for, the harder it was to ignore.