Down End Road

Alexander Griffin POV

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We rode back to the manor on my Triumph. The warm, crisp air had uplifted both our moods and had helped to clean our senses of the lingering stench from the café. Whatever had happened had shaken Myra, but she seemed to have mostly recovered by the time we had arrived at End Road Manor.

The café had been warm and vibrant albeit a little bit muggy, but otherwise normal. That was until the air seemed to be blanketed with a thickness and the bright, open space dimmed. The room had suddenly become more oppressive than breezy. A mild pong had wafted through and the darker areas of the room had become almost black in lighting.

It had only gotten worse when a shrill hiss had quietly blended into the background noise, and suddenly overpowered the other quiet sounds. What was supposed to be a relaxed hangout had turned into a claustrophobic, dark, humid place. One, that I had no intention of visiting anytime soon.

I knew Maverick had felt something too. Perhaps not as severely as Myra or me, but he had still felt something. By his unusual silence I could tell that he was a little spooked by it. Ally had probably only felt a slight humidity and heard a faint hiss. That was the perk of having a weaker gift, not as many weird encounters.

Myra and I had spent the day in the library after that. She was still timid and wary of every room we went to, but that was to be expected. She would most likely have felt fine by the morning. Once she had slept it off.

My theory about what had happened was that a shifter or something related to one, had escaped. I knew it was nonsense, but I still could not help but think about the possibility.

I had once read a passage about how shifters, whenever they come here to our world, make everything seem off balance. General Washington had said that it was like being in a stuffy room, with a terrible darkness looming over you, and a shrill screech resounding around the room. It was exactly what had happened at the café, but I was probably wrong and said nothing.

“Ha, he needs to apologise!” Myra grumbled at her book. I had discovered that whenever something she didn’t like happened in her book she had to express how she felt about it in words. I found it rather amusing and better than if I sat alone and read by myself.

We were sat on the floor and leant against two bookshelves and faced each other with our legs in front of us. My legs reached her hip, whilst hers only reached my mid thigh. She wasn’t short or tall but rather the perfect height. Strawberry strands of her hair had found their way out of her low pony tail and framed her perfect tan face. The sun that shone through the open stained skylight, glowed orange and green around her and gave her whole body an ethereal glow.

Her lips were pursed and her eyes squinted in concentration and disapproval. My hand fidgeted beside me, I wanted to move the rogue curl out of her face so I could see her eyes better, but I didn’t and I knew I should never. She was a Remington, she was dangerous. I could be... acquainted with her, nothing more.

Those words repeated themselves in my head like a mantra. That was, until she looked up and the words seemed to spiral downward, into the forgotten places of my mind.

Her keen blue eyes softened, and her pink lips curved into an infectious smile. I raised my eyebrows in question and she mimicked the action. “What you were staring first, am I being too loud and disrupting the piece or something?” She bantered.

“Well, you are talking to paper so... let’s just say I am mildly concerned.” I teased. She gaped at me, her hands moved to her heart in mock hurt. I smiled and she smiled back.

“I will have you know I am not talking to paper I am talking to whoever is listening, i.e. you.” She justified, “plus it was completely necessary. He just let out a secret that ruined the queens political plan because he thought it was the right thing to do even though she told him otherwise, but what makes it worse is the she’s in love with him and he’s in love with her so-” I flicked her leg and silenced her.

“Myra, your rambling.” I stated, Myra stared at me with squinted eyes. After a moment she just shrugged.

“I need to rant this out to somebody, if I don’t I will literally find some poor random person to talk to it about.” Myra explained. I rolled my eyes and she laughed: a loud, life filled, melody.

Everything about her was breathtak- no! I scolded myself for thinking about her like that. Acquaintances, acquaintances, acquaintances. The word replayed in my head and reminded me of where the limits are.

“Right... Well we best be off, suppers soon.” I said stiffly. I hopped up and wiped off the dust from my jeans. I placed my copy of: Washington’s Guide to Shifters, back in its rightful place and lent Myra my hand. She placed her considerably dainty hand in mine and slowly pulled herself up. Her other hand limply held the gold covered book she had been reading.

Our eyes stayed locked on each other’s and our hands stayed connected for a long while after she stood. My skin tingled where she held it, and my heart plummeted into my stomach. Myra studied my face and inched toward me. She barely moved four inches before I let go of her hand, and took several steps back.

Myra’s face fell then perked right back up. She covered her hurt expression with a small forced smile and walked towards the door. She placed her book on a trolley and walked out.

I soon followed her. My mind whirred with all the different outcomes of the previous situation. All of them had ended with me and her happily exiting the library; together.

My heart told me I’m a coward for my actions, but my head told me I’m smart.

Smart for distancing myself. Smart for pushing Myra away. Smart for being alone. I had never noticed how truly... lonely I felt until I met Myra.

Until that girl with ocean blue eyes and Strawberry tinged curls walked into the car park of End Road Manner.