<span style="color: #FF0000">The evening ended on a happy note, which he was surprised with all things considered. There was to be brunch tomorrow and they would get to spend more time together. Something he was certain Athan would not fully appreciate, but perhaps it would be best for him to sit and wallow in his own guilt and pity? Besides, Tempest deserved to have a bit of sunlight in her life. <br/><br/>Sleep came easily for him and as the sun broke the horizon he was out of bed and into his morning routine which consisted of 200 pull ups, about 100 sit ups and skipping rope for about fifteen minutes. All of which he could have done more for or done for longer, but he only ever did just enough to get that slightly energized feel. After that he went for a short run around the block a couple of times, before he returned for a quick shower and breakfast. <br/><br/>When lunch time rolled around he headed over to her place a couple of knocks on the door and he waited for her to answer, the fez hat he had only just bought that day sat casually atop his head as if that were his everyday hat.</span><br/><br/>To say she slept well would have been a lie. She didn’t sleep well, her mind deciding it wanted to rerun the “dance” she’d done earlier that night...the look in Athan’s eyes as his hand closed around her throat… Tossing and turning, the hours ticked by until, eventually, she fell asleep. It was a restless sleep, but a sleep nonetheless, one that hadn’t been remotely aided by the shower she opted to take to try and relax.<br/><br/>So, when the knock came at the door, she almost didn’t hear it. Her alarm had gone off several times prior, each high-pitched ring met with the snooze button, until she eventually unplugged it. But, in the back of her mind, she felt like she was forgetting something, which kept her from falling fully to sleep after the last alarm clock incident, thus hearing the knocks and slowly padding over to the door and peering out of the peep hole.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Colt...shit,</span>came a thought as she tiredly pulled the door open, a hint of a smile on her lips as she gestured for him to enter. “I know, I know...I’m running behind,” she greeted him with a wave, closing the door behind him. “In my defense, you’ve thrown my sleep schedule off.” A yawn loosed as she made her way back through to her bedroom. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be done getting dressed shortly.” Then, after a moment, she added (having already made it to her bedroom and into her closet), “How is it outside? Warm? Mild? Hot? Cool?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He could hear her padding barefoot to the door, so the sight of her in her sleep ware was not surprising. If anything he found her overall appearance to be cute. He made himself comfortable on her sofa and just looked about her place, taking in what he could about her personality.<br/><br/>“It was mild out, so long sleeves and a pair of jeans you should be fine,” he offered where he sat on the couch.</span><br/><br/>Other than the broken bits of glass around the walls, and some magazines that were thrown, everything else was in its place. Nothing overly fancy in her apartment. And, where she wasn’t the sort to take long getting ready, she got dressed and then skipped over to the bathroom to brush her hair out and apply some concealer to the dark circles beneath her eyes. After that, she considered herself ready, grabbing sunglasses and walking back into her living room, stopping a few steps in and taking in the fez.<br/><br/>“...You actually own one of those?” she choked out, trying to stifle a laugh. “Everything suddenly makes so much sense now.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Colt just grinned and shrugged, "I took it out of the cleaners just for you." He made a mental note of the mild disarray,but said not a word. "Think it took you less time to get ready than me," he remarked. "Alright,is there anything that you don't eat at all?"</span><br/><br/>"Of course it took me less time...you're the girl, remember?" she joked. "You're far too pretty to be the man, and meticulous with your appearance to be otherwise." Then, after a moment of thought, she finally answered, "Sushi. I don't eat sushi. Everything else, I think, it's fair game. What did you have in mind?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">"I am rather pretty," he agreed while he flicked his non existent hair. "I've never liked that either. Somethin' about raw fish never settled well with me," he shrugged. "There is a diner that has some really good food. We can take the bus there if you are opposed to walking?" he shifted to the door which he held opened for her.</span><br/><br/>Walking through the door, she waited until he was through, taking his place and locking it behind them and then started off. "I'm not opposed to walking if you aren't? Now that you have the fez, I won't lose you in the crowd of day walkers," Tempest replied with a grin. "Besides, a walk will give me a chance to wake up more." Once outside, she gave him a sidelong glance. "So...why were you insistent on meeting me during the day?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> "You really going to need me to wear this all day?" he asked with a grin. "And well I like the sun and fresh air, and figured you might like it too,"he explained with a shrug. Once they were outside he took point and started off toward their diner. "Don't you like the sun?" though people looked at him and his hat, Colt walked on like there was nothing out of the ordinary.</span><br/><br/>"Yep, I really am," she replied with a nod. "You look so different in the daylight; if we get separated, how will I know who you are?" When he asked about the sun, though, she just shrugged. "It's bright and warm, but so are the lights of the stage. It was jarring at first, to adjust...now it's become the norm. I don't see anything I'm missing out on."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> "Maybe you should get glasses? I mean everyone else seems to notice me just fine,"he added with a smile and wink. "To me there is just something about the sun and the fresh air that cannot be replaced by anything," he shrugged. "Didn't you love to play in the sun as a child?"</span><br/><br/>"Everyone else, huh?" she repeated. "You should know I'm not everyone else by now. It takes a lot for me to notice people...clearly you've not tried hard enough yet." A light nudge was given, and then a shrug. "I didn't go outside much. I was always in a studio, or at school, or in my basement. Didn't really have a lot of time to go outside."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> "I should try harder huh?" he chuckled. "I spent most of my time outside,never got into dancing until later in life. Outside was what I did,anywhere and everywhere I was outside until I was made to come inside," his voice was nostalgic as he spoke. "Dancing became a hobby when I left home."</span><br/><br/>"When did you leave home?" she asked next. "You dance like you've been doing it your entire life, but can't be much older than me. Did you leave home earlier than the usual eighteen?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Such a cliché, but there was no denying whom it had been that took him from his home. Newly immigrated Irish his family had been; content to scrape out an existence in the world the best that they could with what little they had managed to gather prior to their move. When he had been but a boy, a wolf attacked him, bit his leg and savaged him. It was a miracle he had not died the moment of the attack, but he managed to live, through the aid of the local medicine man. His family had managed to make themselves friends with one of the local tribes and when Colt had been attacked they were more than happy to help, at least until they noticed how quickly his wounds had healed. It was then that the medicine man told Colt’s father to stab him with a silver dagger, right in the heart. When questioned why, the man told his father that the wolf that bit his son was not a normal wolf and his son was now cursed. If he wanted the rest of his family to survive he needed to kill his son and save his soul. <br/><br/>Well, like any father he could not bring himself to do it and therefore when the first full moon came…<br/><br/>What happened exactly is a blur to Colt and he only vaguely remembers it. Even to this day, he thinks that he thinks that some monster murdered his family and left him on his own. <br/><br/>“I left when I was about ten,” he stated after a long silent moment.</span><br/><br/>Where he’d fallen silent, she almost wondered if she’d struck a nerve. That maybe he was like Athan, and didn’t talk much about his past. Not everyone was open and she, herself, couldn’t claim that she was when she would only answer things if prompted. People were entitled to a level of privacy, especially those that she wasn’t overly close with and wouldn’t want to step on the toes of.<span style="font-style: italic">Perhaps I was being too nosy…</span>came a thought as she glanced sidelong at him.<br/><br/>But, when she went to change the subject, he answered and her eyes widened considerably.<span style="font-style: italic">Ten years old?!</span>her mind repeated.<span style="font-style: italic">Why would anyone let a kid run around alone?!</span><br/><br/>“You left that young?” Tempest finally asked, unable to contain the curiosity. “What had you striking out as a child? Where did you go? What did you do?”<span style="font-style: italic">Reign it in, Temp. This isn’t an interrogation.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Colt smiled but refrained from answering right away as he stopped in front of the diner, “Here we are.” <br/><br/>The door was held for her and he followed in after, soon they were seated in a booth and the waitress left to give them a few moments to look over the menu. The air was heavy with the smell of freshly cooking food, grease and a certain homely aroma that one would get when they went home to visit family for holiday. <br/><br/>“Now,” he said from behind his menu. “My parents died and I was left on my own. There was no one to take care of me and no one who really wanted me, so I just did it myself,” the menu now lowered to allow for eye contact. There was nothing in his eyes that would hint at any kind of discomfort or unease, in fact he did not seem to be bothered by the topic of conversation at all.</span><br/><br/>She hadn’t even noticed the diner coming up, needing him to stop to realize they’d reached their destination. With a mock curtsy, she meandered inside and followed the waitress to the table, settling in and looking over the menu. It looked pretty good, and the smell of food had her stomach growling embarrassingly loud.<br/><br/>He didn’t seem to hear it, though, instead plunging ahead with her questions, causing the entirety of her attention to shift. Where she’d been interested in the food, now she felt guilt for prying, for bringing up what she was certain was a painful time in his life. While he may not have seemed sad about it, or any discomfort, she felt nosy. Her brow furrowed, eyes dipping to her menu and holding it up a little higher to offer herself a reprieve. “I’m...sorry for being so nosy. I seem to have a knack for that lately.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">A frown touched his lips; he shifted one foot and leaned a bit forward so that he could grasp her menu lightly at the top. “Hey…” he said as he applied just a bit of pressure to lower the menu a bit and to allow for a bit of eye contact. “Please don’t apologize, especially when you have done nothing wrong. If I had not wanted you to know I could have changed the subject, right?” he said before he reclined back in his seat and lifted his own menu. “Besides, we are friends and partners. So, there is no reason to have secrets between one another. If you want to know anything about me at all, just ask. Ok?”</span><br/><br/>The sound of shifting was heard and she instinctually raised her menu up a bit higher to compensate, only to feel him pushing it down to make eye contact. And, as much as she tried to avoid it, eventually her eyes rose up to meet his. No amount of assurance could make her feel less like an ass for interrogating him about his past; Even if he were comfortable talking about it. It just felt like a topic you discussed with people you were closer to.<br/><br/>But...she gave him a nod and tried to push the feeling of guilt back as she went back to looking at her menu. “Well, the first thing I want to know about you is what you’re going to be ordering,” Tempest segued, her voice thoughtful while trying to pin down something to eat. “And the second would be why you’re a morning person.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Steak and eggs,” he replied without hesitation. “As for the morning thing,” he shrugged and set his menu down. “I just always have this energy and I like to be up and doing something rather than nothing at all,” another shrug. “Were you ever a morning person?” he asked her now seeking a bit of information in return.</span><br/><br/>“Weirdo…” she replied, a hint of a grin on her lips as she continued to read over the menu. “And yes...I used to be a morning person. I was a morning person up until I joined the company and then I shifted over. Now the prospect of being up before I have to is less than appealing. I’d sooner crawl under the sheets and block out all daylight from fourish in the morning until five in the evening, than get up to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“So, if you were switched back to a morning shift you would be fine?” he asked before he took a sip of his water.</span><br/><br/>“Well yeah, but I won’t be switching back,” she replied to that with a shrug. “Athan works at night, so that makes my schedule changed by default.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Right, but what if you were put to days?” he asked before he took another sip of water. “I mean it is possible for that to happen. Then what?” <br/><br/>In an absentminded fashion his fingers picked at the napkin that was on the table. There was no malice in his line of questioning, just open curiosity.</span><br/><br/>“I don’t know how that’d happen...at least not for a while,” she replied with a shrug. “They brought me in to dance with Athan, solely for that reason, and thus far that means adapting to a new schedule. If that were to change...I’d adapt accordingly, but I’m not sure why they’d switch me again.”<br/><br/>Another shrug was given, a light smile on her lips. “It would just mean strong sunglasses and a lot of caffeine until I could do it without the help.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Sunglasses? To hide those eyes? What a shame,” he smirked. “So, what about your family? Are they supportive of your career as a dancer?” <br/><br/>Before she could answer the waitress returned, though he waved her off to give Tempest more time to decide what she wanted to eat.</span><br/><br/>She couldn’t stop the eye roll at his remark, but that hint of a smile turned into a full grin as a chuckle fell free. And, before she could answer his question, the waitress came over, reminding her that she had to pick something to eat. Picking up her menu, she decided to peruse it a bit more. “Does that line work on all the girls?” she asked while a finger slid down the menu to help her focus on what she was reading.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I don’t use lines,” he said with a grin. “I just tell women the truth and hope for the best. If I think a woman is beautiful I will tell she is and then go from there. I think it is a shame to cover your eyes with sunglasses, because they are probably your best feature,” he said with a slight shrug. “Sometimes, I am too…blunt when I am talking to people and as you know I just shove my big foot in my mouth…” he grinned and looked at her with just a bit of embarrassment.</span><br/><br/>“You do seem to have a taste for shoes that goes beyond style...I just thought you enjoyed the Italian leather” she teased, no malice in the words. “Bluntness can be appreciated...as can honesty, but there’s a tact with it. It’s one thing to tell a woman that they’re beautiful, and another to word it in such a way she doesn’t believe it, or thinks it’s a recycled ‘fuck me’ line.” A pause, and then her eyes lifted to look at him, the grin still intact. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve plenty of tact when it comes to picking up women in bars? We just need to transfer some of that suave over into other scenarios.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I have been trying, in case you have not noticed,” he proudly proclaimed. “Don’t think I even remember the taste of Italian leather anymore,” he snickered. “Unless, I missed something somewhere and maybe need to shove my shoe in my mouth to make up for it?”  he asked with a grin.</span><br/><br/>“Hmmmmm...I did notice, and don’t think you’ve missed anything you need to make up for,” she replied with a laugh. “I mean, if you want to taste the leather again, then go for it; But, how about you skip the usual reason for your shoe-tasting and just go for it? Who knows? It could taste better than your steak and eggs.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Nah, I think I’m good,” he chuckled. “So, are you one of those dancers who only eat like salads? Or other snack type foods?” the question given with a tease that shown in his eyes. “I mean I can tell you without a doubt that you do not need to watch what you eat, not at all. After all I am the one who lifts you into the air and throws you about too,” he grinned.</span><br/><br/>“Of course I watch what I eat!” she said, as though it was common knowledge. “I look at food and gain; What, are you able to eat whatever you want whenever you want without worry of gaining a pound?” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “You’re not the one getting thrown around…”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Right, I am not. And actually, if I don’t eat a lot I get sick so I eat…well a lot,” he laughed. “But, what I’m saying is that you really don’t need to watch what you eat. Hell, all the work that we put into the dance is more than enough to keep you just as you are, which is perfect. So, you better order something more than a salad or fruit….unless you are one of those weird vegetarian people…”</span><br/><br/>“...Funny you should mention fruit or salad…” she replied, trying not to look as guilty as she felt. “I...fully intended on getting a fruit salad and toast. Not that I’m a vegetarian! I’m just...overly conscientious. But, I’ll get some...um...scrambled eggs instead, or something. They aren’t overly greasy here, are they? Next thing you know, you’ll be lifting me and boom! Heart attack.”<br/><br/>Then as an afterthought, she decided to be curious again. “So, if you have to eat a lot to not get sick...do you have an overly active metabolism? Or something more serious?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Eggs are a good start and the eggs here are not greasy at all, so you should be very happy with you choice,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “I hardly think your little ass will be enough to cause me to have a heart attack. I barely even notice you now when I lift you up, so by all means do eat,” he grinned though it faltered just a bit at the mention of his aliment. “Yeah, something like that. My body just consumes so much that I have to eat a lot in order to make sure it gets what it needs,” he explained at this time the waitress returned and they placed their orders. <br/><br/>Once again she disappeared and they were left alone together. “I hope that you don’t think this will compromise my ability to dance with you?” he asked referring to his metabolism.</span><br/><br/>Trying to lighten the sudden serious turn of the conversation, she put on a look of mock thought. "Well..." Tempest started. "I don't know...if it truly is that serious, then I don't know that were can dance together anymore. Or hang out anymore together. Or even talk..." Nodding to add to it, she shrugged. "Yep, it's too much. You need to spend your time eating and critiquing me from off to the side."<br/><br/>A teasing grin made itself at home on her lips. "I guess you just can't handle me...I'm just...too much for you."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He grinned; his eyes went from her eyes then down to the table between the two of them. “You really think that I can’t handle you?” He scoffed at the very notion his eyes took on a overdramatized pained look, while he clutched at his chest. “The shame, to think that I…Colt! Can’t handle the mighty Tempest!” <br/><br/>At this point he had raised his voice loud enough that more than a few people had turned to look and their waitress had returned, all smiles while she held in her laughter. “So…um do you need something else?” <br/><br/>“No...no…” he began with a voice heavy in sorrow. “But, I fear that I don’t have the strength to eat let alone dance with the magnificent woman that is seated before me!” His fist slammed down on the table with the strangle wail of woe, enough force behind it to jostle their glasses of water. Upon this table he buried his face in the crook of his arm, where he proceeded to “wail” his woes to the world. More people were looking now and the waitress looked like she was about to explode from how hard she struggled to not laugh at the antics of Colt.</span><br/><br/>The grin was initially returned as she went to take a sip of her water, but the sip never happened. In fact, the glass stilled at her lips as he started scoffing, voice raising loud enough to call the waitress over and continue the charade. More and more people were looking over at them, and her face continued to grow redder by the second, a hand covering her mouth as the glass continued to hand in front of her.<br/><br/>“He’s...he’s fine, really…” Tempest tried to assure the waitress, but she seemed too enthralled by his award-winning performance to even take in what she said. Where she was getting more worked up and embarrassed, her accent started working its way back out as she spoke next, growing thicker by the second. “Oh god...I’m um...I’m going to go to the bathroom, so if you could uh…just...yeah…”<br/><br/>And with that, the glass was replaced and she was covering her face, blushing bright red. Making her way as nonchalantly as possible to the bathroom among all of the stares and laughter was no easy feat, but she was determined to manage it somehow, otherwise her face would burn off..<span style="font-style: italic">Just calm yourself down,</span>she coached herself.<span style="font-style: italic">Calm down and the red will go, too. So he’s a bit...over the top. It could be worse! Just gotta take a breath and relax. His performance will be done soon enough, right? It can’t go on <span style="font-weight: bold">that</span> long.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-style: italic">An accent?</span> <br/><br/>Now that was not something he expected to hear from her and it intrigued him, a lot; made him wonder if even Athan had heard the accent or if she had kept it hidden even from him. <br/><br/>“You know your girlfriend is going to kill you for this later, right?”  the waitress said with a happy glow of amusement still clear on her face. <br/><br/>“Sadly, she is not my girlfriend, but I am going to still pay for it regardless,” he replied with a small shrug. <br/><br/>“Shame, you two make a cute couple,” she replied. <br/><br/>“You really are trying hard for that tip, aren’t you?” <br/><br/>“Maybe? I mean I have to try to compete with the amazing performance you just put on, Colt.”<br/><br/>“Stacy, you know that you don’t have to do that with me. ‘Long as my food gets to me hot and you don’t cop an attitude with me, you always get a tip,” he remarked with a friendly air to the waitress.<br/><br/>“Yes, but when I put a little extra in it, you smile and I don’t know you don’t look like you smile enough. Or, you smile for all the wrong reasons,” she remarked with a friendly hip bump against his shoulder. <br/><br/>“What are you going to school for again?” <br/><br/>“Psychology.” <br/><br/>“That’s right,” he said and just shook his head. <br/><br/>“Be nicer to your friend, she had a cute accent,” another bump of her hip and he rolled his eyes. <br/><br/>“Hands off, she is spoken for,” he said to the retreating back of the waitress. <br/><br/>“More the shame,” she called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the kitchen. <br/><br/>Alone now, he took up his fez and placed it back on his head. The few people who still looked his way were given enough of a look that they did not look back over at them. Now, he just had to wait for Tempest to come out of the bathroom.</span><br/><br/>It took her a few minutes, to assure herself that shew as, indeed, fine and that his show was likely over with already. But, she hesitated at the door and let out a few more breaths while trying to listen for any cackling or laughter that may have been due to his showboating. When nothing was heard but the usual white noise of a diner, she braved the trek back to her seat. A few people made awkward eye contact, only to look away a second later, while others avoided eye contact all together.<br/><br/>A glance ahead showed her that he was back to wearing his fez with a pleasant demeanor, her eyes narrowing at him as she slid into her seat.<br/><br/>“Satisfied with yourself, hmm?” Tempest asked. “I think you’ve chosen the wrong profession; Soap operas don’t know what they’re missing, you know.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“So, where are you from?” he asked her in an accent that told clearly of his Irish heritage. “You must have worked very hard to get rid of it, though I have to say I think I like the accent quite a bit,” he smiled. Truthfully, the Irish accent that he held would sound, old, older than those who currently hail from the island, but it was easy enough to recognize.</span><br/><br/>The sudden accent was jarring, eyes blinking as they stared at him, wide and shocked. It was like she’d just stepped off the boat and landed in Ireland, as thick and heavy the accent was. So much was the shock that the question it’d asked and the observation he’d given weren’t heard, solely focused on the accent that spoke them. For a moment, she simply stared, taking a long while to find her voice. And, given her shock, her accent was back in full force, not even bothering to think about hiding it this time around.<br/><br/>“I’d say the same for you!” she replied with a laugh. “The vision of you currently, with the accent and the fez makes me think of a leprechaun of some kind. How long ago did you move to the states?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He grinned, “Maybe I should get a different hat then?” The fez was taken down and placed on the table to the side of them. “Hmm…as for how long since I got off the boat, as you put it, only been in the states for the past five years,” he admitted. “Took a while to lose it, but every now and again it pops up, people tend to like it here for some reason,” he said with a chuckle. “Now, again, where are you from?”</span><br/><br/>“Only five years to lose that?” she repeated, tone more shocked than it’d been moments before if that were possible. “You must’ve worked hard then to lose it. Any particular reason? Were the girls fawning over it too much for you to take? Did you get tired of beating them off with your pipe?”<br/><br/>After chuckling at the mental image, she finally answered his question. “Newcastle upon Tyne, actually. The accent was too thick when I moved here; still is when I let it out as I’m sure you can hear,” Tempest laughed. “But, it’s easier to hide it.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“No no noooo,” he laughed. “I did not want to stand out so much, so I lost the accent and became, <span style="font-style: italic">American</span>,” his accent dropped easily for that one word. “I went to Newcastle briefly in my youth, I should have placed the accent, but you it’s been a while since I even heard it,” he smiled, suddenly he felt even more at ease with her. “I think we should talk like this more often, you know just to the two of us. I bet we even have the same slang and insults, so we could make fun of the other dancers behind their backs,” he laughed again.</span><br/><br/>“You’ve been to Newcastle?” she asked, before processing the rest of what he’d said. The idea was tempting, to talk about people behind their backs with their slang and the like; even just the prospect of talking naturally was appealing as she never felt this...comfortable with Athan. He always spoke so proper, making swears sound refined, and she just wasn’t that girl. Now that she knew Colt spoke the same as she, the accent was almost homey in a way.<br/><br/>“So long as you don’t make our talks during the wee hours of the mornin’, I don’t think I’d mind. Though…” There was a pause. “I could be persuaded to brave the daylight if you promise to make me a proper Irish breakfast one morning.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“For the lady I would gladly do that,” he said with a smile. “How wee are we talkin? Cause I am up at seven every morning and could easily have a meal ready for you to eat in bed by eight. Think you can handle that?” <br/><br/>It was at that time that Stacy showed back up with their plates, both of which were set down with a silent smile before she left to tend to the rest of her tables. Though the smell of food made his stomach growl, he waited to hear her answer before he dove into the eggs like the hungry beast he was.</span><br/><br/>“Who said anything about breakfast in bed?” she asked in with a cheeky grin. “I was more leaning toward...being dressed and not sitting up in bed with my hair out of whack like you saw this morning.” Once again, she’d focused on one part of the conversation and didn’t truly hear all of it. It wasn’t until she took her first bite of eggs that a look of shock horror took hold of her face. “Wait, eight in the morning?! And you’re up at seven?! How do you manage that on a night schedule?? I can barely get up before five, and that’s pushing it for me!”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He laughed rather heartedly and was glad he had waited before he took a bite of food. Instead of getting to her question right away, he took a bite of steak and moaned at the flavor. Every time he ate there, they had done it just right. It was one of the reasons he continued to come back there often enough that he and Stacy managed to develop a friendship of sorts. <br/><br/>“Breakfast always tastes better in bed,” he remarked between another bite of steak and then a bit of eggs before he decided to answer the rest of her questions. “I have a lot of energy,” he said with a shrug. “I’m rarely tired and as long as I eat enough it just stays that way,” another shrug and he went back to his meal.</span><br/><br/>His laugh was met with a smile of her own, taking a few more bites as she mulled over what he said, particularly his abundance of energy. “That’s true...you always seem to be raring to go,” Tempest conceded, tone thoughtful as she continued to think about it. “Whenever we take a break during rehearsals, it’s because I need one, not you...yet you’re the one always throwing me around or lifting me so it’s not as though, in comparison, I’ve a reason to be tired...And now I find out you get up at seven<span style="font-style: italic">every</span>morning?<br/><br/>“How do you manage that? I’d be flat exhausted.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Without missing a beat and in his usual honest way, “I suppose it has to be with me being a faoladh.”</span><br/><br/>Her brow perked up at the unfamiliar term, tilting her head a bit as she lifted her glass to her lips to take a sip of water. "A faoladh?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Aye, you know…a um…werewolf,” he said after he paused for a bit to think up the translation for her.</span><br/><br/>Choking on the water she’d been sipping a moment before, she began to cough, the glass replaced and a hand resting on her chest as she stared at him like he was on crack. It was so casually thrown out there, and was absolutely ludicrous that, after a moment of staring, she burst out laughing. “No, really, what’s your secret? What are you doing to be so energized all the time?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He grinned and shook his head, “I am telling you the truth. I will even do anything you want to prove it.” Tone, mannerism and everything else were all serious in nature, while he waited for her to give him a means to try and prove himself to be what he claimed.</span><br/><br/>Rather than ask for some form of proof, she leaned over, hand reaching across and resting on his forehead as she mumbled a “hmm” beneath her breath. Hand shifting, she felt another area of his face. “You don’t feel like you have a fever...Did someone slip you something while I was in the bathroom? Are you feeling alright?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Colt thought about swatting her hand away, but then he just sat there and enjoyed the feeling of her hand on his face. <br/><br/>“No,” he chuckled. “I am perfectly fine. I have yet to lie to you, so why would I start now?” he asked her with a grin. “Anything at all you want for me to do to prove it to you I will. Just name it.”</span><br/><br/>Rolling her eyes, she leaned back again, getting comfortable in her seat as her eyes looked at him appraisingly. “Really, you’ll just prove it to me; No code or something against that?” Then, with a glance outside, she shrugged. “It’s not a full moon. How can you prove anything to me right now?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He smirked at the full moon comment, “Such legends about the full moon, it is funny that they are even believed by so many.” He chuckled, “Even if there was a code I would not be privy to it as I have been on my own since…well since I was young…” he said with a small shrug. “But…I don’t know…um…I have a very good sense of smell because of it and I can tell your emotions based on scent. I could even find you in this city blindfolded based on scent alone.”</span><br/><br/>A loud sound escaped her lips, a cross between a laugh and scoff. “You can tell my emotion based on my scent? It’s not the look on my face or the tone of my voice, but my scent…<span style="font-style: italic">And</span>you can find me anywhere in the city based on scent alone?” Her eyes were disbelieving while her face held good humor. “What, pray tell, do I smell like, then? What<span style="font-style: italic">emotion</span>am I experiencing right now?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">At this he leaned forward, his eyes connecting with her own while he took a deep breath through his nose. “You are obviously disbelieving of me and think I am crazy, but there is a part of you that is intrigued maybe even excited about the idea that what I’m saying is actually true. The danger of it excites you…just a bit…” he said with a smirk while he continued to hold the eye contact.</span><br/><br/>Her eyes held contact with his even as he inhaled and started to rattle off how she felt. And, while he was on the money (except the last part; she wasn’t willing to admit that), she figured it could all be seen in her expression; in her eyes, if nothing else. “Almost completely accurate,” Tempest replied, brow perking up a bit. “And you honestly think that you can find me anywhere in the city? Based on what you<span style="font-style: italic">smell</span>?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Anywhere in the city,” he replied with complete confidence then focused on his meal a bit, lest it get cold.</span><br/><br/>Food was the last thing on her mind as she continued to watch him. What had possessed him to lie to her to that extreme, she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to see how far he was willing to take it. How far would be go to “prove” to her that he was as he claimed. “Alright, then after we eat, we’ll test that theory...and we’ll make it a bet. If you find me, you get something. If you don’t find me, I get something. Sound fair?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Sounds perfectly fair,” he said as he paused in eating. “What do you want if you win?”</span><br/><br/>That was the question, wasn’t it? What would she get if she were right and won? “Hmm...maybe it’ll be an outfit to go with that fez...maybe a makeover...I’ve not yet decided; I want it to be<span style="font-style: italic">perfect</span>, after all, aside from you telling me the real reason you’re so full of energy. What would you want if you won?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He grinned and wiped his mouth clean with a napkin, then regarded her for a moment. “I want you and me to continue with this brunch thing. So, for the next month you and I will have brunch every day, unless one of us has something that would take precedence over the brunch,” he said simply. “I honestly think a makeover would do me good. What color do you think goes better with my eyes?” he asked as he batted his eyelashes at her.</span><br/><br/>“A month? You really think a month is a fair wager? How will I know you’re not cheating when you try to find me? There are an awful lot of variables…” she replied to that, brow perked higher and arms crossing thoughtfully. “And brunch, really? It’s like you’re trying to kill me with this daytime thing.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I swear to you on my ability to dance and my blood as an Irishmen that I will not cheat. Should I break this oath, may my legs suffer a terrible accident and I never dance again,” his tone was nothing but serious as he looked her in the eye. “We have a deal?”</span><br/><br/>There was a sudden seriousness to his tone, like he actually believed he could find her through scent alone, anywhere in the city. She wasn’t about to refute his ability to dance, the drive he had for it, nor his Irish heritage, so she merely nodded. “We have a deal. Anywhere in the city, you’ll try to find me by scent alone.” For a moment she was silent, and then couldn’t help herself when she added, “I almost feel bad that I’m taking such advantage of you like this, since you’ll be looking a lot different when I’m through with your makeover.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I look forward to our month of brunches together,” he replied simply in turn and focused on finishing his meal. This was a gamble, at least to some degree, but he was more than willing to take it. Perhaps, if he had met other werewolves, he would have known that sharing such secrets was not allowed and it broke some ancient code. However, he had been a lone wolf since he was turned and never even thought to seek out others of his kind.</span><br/><br/>Taking a few more bites of her cold food, she focused on the toast and banana she’d opted for when making her order, all the while regarding him over the table. Then, when she’d finished, she took a last sip of her water. “Now, when did you want to attempt to prove this to me? Sadly, I don’t carry a blindfold in my backpocket at all times; They’d be in my other pants.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">That was something, he thought while he fished out his wallet to pay for their meals and leave the usual tip. Stacy returned to clear away their plates, the check in hand though she knew he had already put the sum of the bill on the table. “Can I get y’all anything else?” she asked in her usual chipper tone. <br/><br/>“Yeah….can I borrow one of your aprons?” Colt asked with a wink in Tempest’s direction. <br/><br/>“One of my aprons?” Stacy asked with an arched brow. “Seriously?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, seriously,” his accent long gone now when he addressed Stacy. <br/><br/>“Can I ask why? Or is this one of those moments of I would rather not know?”<br/><br/>“I plan on blindfolding myself with it and trying to find her in the city,” Colt replied without hesitation. <br/><br/>“Yep, I should not have asked.” With that she disappeared back into the kitchen and then returned with an apron. “Here you go. Um…you can just keep that. I don’t really think I will want it back,” she stated as she turned over the black item. <br/><br/>“Thanks. See ya tomorrow,” he said and nodded to Tempest so that she would join him outside. Once there he ripped the string ties from the apron and then handed them to her. “Here you can tie my hands with these and then tie this about be face,” he said as he ripped the apron in half. “You think this will work for you?”</span><br/><br/>Tempest should have begun to expect the unexpected with him, as he had a habit of surprising her or being resourceful; This moment wasn’t any different. Apparently he and Stacy were close enough that he could ask for her apron and she’d comply. She had an inkling it could’ve been due to attraction, but it wasn’t a conversation she wanted to broach, so instead she focused on dropping her accent, a task he made seem so easy as he switched his on and off. So much so was her focus that she didn’t even react to the waitress’s remark about not wanting her apron back after finding out what it was for.<br/><br/>Following after him, she watched him rip the apron apart easily and handed the bits over to her. With a roll of her eyes and a laugh, she moved behind him to bind his hands. “You know, you’re probably flexible enough to get out of this even if I tied it well,” she remarked into his ear as she tied the knot. “A quick sit down and then shimmy your arms about your legs and you’d be free.” Then, after a quick test of the knot to make sure that its hold wasn’t too tight or loose, she took the remaining cloth and put it about his eyes, hands feeling over it while she worked to make sure it didn’t jostle or move.<br/><br/>A quick step around him, and she held fingers up in front of his face. “How many fingers am I holding up? Can you see anything at all?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Your lack of faith in me wounds my pride,” he remarked while he stood there and allowed her tie him up. “I gave you my word, so the hands will stay behind my back the whole time,” he said while he waited for her to be done. At the question of the number of fingers he shrugged, “Four? Maybe five? All I know is that your hands are nice and soft on my face.”</span><br/><br/>“Hey, I didn’t say that you<span style="font-style: italic">would</span>, just that you could,” she amended, as her hands dropped and another eye roll was given though went unseen. “Now, you did say anywhere in the city...Does that mean indoors and outdoors are both well within limits? Or do you have any boundaries that I have to adhere to?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Go wherever you want to do and I will find you,” he said with complete confidence.</span><br/><br/>She shrugged, and patted him on the shoulder. “Alright, well I’ll see you later at rehearsal then. If you get into any trouble, remember...the cops are your friend.” And with that, she left, off to find a spot to wait around in until it was time for rehearsal, which meant a place she could be entertained for, roughly, three hours. Short of the movies, she’d have to find something else with that long a time frame.<span style="font-style: italic">Mall, maybe? Then movies when I hit the two-hour mark?</span>came a thought, before deciding to wander that way. Where he’d not said that she had to hang out in one spot, she figured a building would be fine as she wouldn’t be moving overly fast.<br/><br/>Starting at a clothing store, she moved through the racks, holding things up so that she could see them in the mirror. A dress here, pants there, a few tank tops and a few dance bras and shorts for rehearsal later even made it to the counter to buy. From there, she went to another store and bought a few pairs of yoga pants and leggings, deciding she had enough and made herself comfortable in the movie theatre. There weren’t too many people there, given the day and time, but that suited her just fine; Less people to worry about talking and being disruptive.<br/><br/>Bags in the seat next to her, her feet were over the front of the seat in front and she reclined in the chair, happy to lose herself in the movie for the last two hours before practice. In the back of her mind, she started thinking about what look she could do with him for his makeover when she won.<span style="font-style: italic">Perhaps I should’ve bought a dress that’d fit him…</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">She left and he stood there, counting to himself to give her a fair enough head start. After about five minutes he took a sniff of the air and started to walk. Sure he did not just use his nose to find her, at least when it came to crossing the street. In that sense he had to rely on his other senses, mainly hearing to know when it was alright to cross. What definitely did not help were the stares he felt as he moved about the city, from those he passed. He could not blame them though as it was not every day that a man with his hands tied behind his back and being blind folded walked down the street. <br/><br/>However, he had not time to dwell on that, instead he focused on his task at hand and locked in on her scent. He had almost made it to the mall, when the cops stopped him. It was not hard to know who they were before they addressed themselves. The unique scent of those who felt they were the authority was hard to miss. Mixed with that special blend of polyester, sweat, worn leather and cologne, it all just screamed cop. <br/><br/>“You ok?” one of them asked while he placed his hand on Colt’s shoulder to halt his progress. <br/><br/>“Perfectly fine officer,” he replied easily. “Something wrong?”<br/><br/>“Well,” there was a pause and he imagined the pair shared a look before the first one continued. “You are tied up and blindfolded walking about….”<br/><br/>“Yes…and is that illegal?” he asked them right back.<br/><br/>“No, but it is not safe for you or the public an…” they began but he cut him off.<br/><br/>“You see, I’m trying to join a fraternity and this is part of my initiation. I know you can’t see them, but my brothers are watching me and are making sure I don’t hurt myself or anyone else,” he paused and turned his head from one side to the other as if looking for these hidden brethren. “Come on guys, I hate to put officers like yourself on the spot, but I am almost done this bit and then I have brothers for life and you know what that’s like right?” he asked with just a bit of desperation in his voice.<br/><br/>For a long moment there was a pause, while they talked softly to one another. Colt thought for a moment that he was going to have be a bit more drastic to escape this, but in the end his luck won out. “Alright, just hurry up and be safe. Ok?” they said then moved out of his way. <br/><br/>“Thank you,” his voice a bit breathless. Now, he was able to focus on his hunt and the prey that took him on quite the ride. From the store where he nosed his way through a couple of racks, to the brief distraction in the food court where he talked one of the free sample people to pop some chicken into his mouth before he continued on his hunt. <br/><br/>“Am I going to see anything that you bought today?” he asked her in a hushed whisper while he eased himself carefully into the seat beside her. “By the way, what we watching?”</span><br/><br/>To say she jumped was an understatement. She’d become fully immersed in the movie, sitting on the edge of her seat without a care in the world. Practice tonight was looking up, without any of the promise of drama like the night before, she was in good spirits from brunch, and was enjoying a movie (surprisingly) by herself! Topping it off, she was going to be able to makeover Colt into the prettiest girl out there, and he’d have to walk around like that...from the manicure, to the makeup, to the dress...A nice destresser while trying to figure out what to do about Athan. As it stood, they still had a dance to do, one that was going to be a recreation of their argument, and one she wasn’t looking forward to.<br/><br/>But that would be backburner. When hanging with Colt, things felt more natural, less formal, and it was their rehearsal tonight. That meant no focusing on the negative and stressful, but focusing on the fun.<br/><br/>Or it did...until he popped up out of nowhere, knowing she had purchases and that she was in the theatre.<br/><br/>One bag fell on the floor while her hand covered her mouth as she stifled a scream, before slouching back in and pushing him. “How the hell did you find me?” she whispered back, wide eyed as she reached up and took the blindfold off of his eyes. “That...that’s impressive. Scarily accurate, but impressive. You just scared the hell out of me, though...No other way to announce your presence?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The shove was expected, though her reaction was priceless and had him grinning from ear to ear. “I thought it would be more entertaining that way,” he turned his back so that she could untie his hands. “Would you mind? I still have to pay for my ticket and by some snacks.”</span><br/><br/>His grin earned him another shove, but she obliged, untying his hands and trying to get more comfortable in her seat. “You need more snacks? Was all that walking really so exhausting?” Then because she couldn’t help herself, she tilted her head. “...Did you get stopped by the cops? Fangirls thinking it was a BDSM game gone awry? A hopeful dom?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“You wish,” he remarked while he rubbed his wrists. “Though the cops did stop me, which is why it took me so long to get here,” he said as he stood. “You want anything? Chips? Popcorn? Candy? Soda?”</span><br/><br/>“Oh, so because the cops stopped you, you took longer than you would have otherwise?” she replied with a roll of her eyes before someone turned back and shushed her. Shaking her head, she glanced at him and then back at the movie. “I’ll just pick off of whatever you buy, if you don’t mind the cooties.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He leaned down to whisper in her ear, lest he “disturb” the other customers. “I don’t think getting your cooties would be bad,” then he was gone, off to get the snacks and pay for his ticket as he promised.</span><br/><br/>She didn’t move away as he leaned down, but her eyes did widen a fraction at his remark, turning to watch his retreating back before going back to the movie. It was an odd turn of events, this day with Colt. He’d gotten her to have breakfast before five in the evening, he was trying to convince her that he was a werewolf, and as much as she should have been creeped out at his ability to find her...she wasn’t. If anything...it was kind of exciting. She still thought the werewolf thing was a load of crock, but his ability to find her was exciting, a fact she’d never admit aloud.<br/><br/>After he’d disappeared, she got comfortable again in her chair, one leg crossed over the other this time around, leaning on the arm of her chair, half paying attention to the movie. Since he’d just scared the daylights out of her last time, she figured she may want to pay more attention this time around.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">At the snack bar there was a good laugh about how he looked, the crew thinking him so nut case and had even thought about calling the cops when he did not return swiftly from his excursion. <br/><br/>“So, did you find your friend?” <br/><br/>“Yeah and even managed to scare her a bit too,” he laughed while he paid for his ticket and the large order of snacks he made. <br/><br/>“This just for you, or is your friend going to help you eat all this?” asked the girl behind the counter.<br/><br/>“She is going to have….some of it,” he shrugged. “I work up an appetite,” he winked and grabbed the tray of food then headed back to the theater. For some reason, this time around he could enjoy the small things that made seeing a movie fun. The way the floor was just a bit sticky, the artificially cooled air and the ever lingering scent of popcorn. All of these rolled into one to make for the whole movie going experience. <br/><br/>“Here we go,” he said as he sat down. He had popcorn, soda, nachos, some bon bons, a pretzel and lastly some Swedish fish. “So, which one do you want to snack on first?”</span><br/><br/>When he came back, she was anticipating him so there was no jumping, no pushing. Instead, she merely took in what he’d come back with, shock in her gaze at the sheer amount of food that he’d come with. In her mind, it was like he was trying to feed an entire army in the theatre, paying for everyone’s snacks on top of their own; whenever she went, she was content with a small bag of popcorn and a bottle of water, so this was a fair amount more.<br/><br/>“Hmm...I’ll pick at that pretzel,” she replied, leaning over a bit more so that she could whisper more quietly, so as not to get shushed again. “Already hungry again? Didn’t we just eat?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The pretzel was handed over and he just grinned at her remark, “I told you I have to eat a lot or I get sick.” The response had been whispered back to her, as a means to be courteous to the others in the theater. He decided to start on the nachos which he crunched on while he tried to figure out what the movie was even about. <br/><br/>“What’s this about?” he asked.</span><br/><br/>Taking the pretzel, she ripped off a piece to nibble on while the rest rested on her lap. “Murder suspense. Serial killer is running around the town offing people one by one with no obvious connections between each victim,” came her whispered reply, before tearing off a piece of the pretzel, holding it out for him. “Want a bite?” Then, continuing on, she added, “It’s not too great a movie, but it’s better than the others playing right now; I can only do so much cheesy romance or stupid humor.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He took the bite of pretzel with his mouth, chewed it and swallowed it before he focused on the movie. “Good, I like to laugh, but give me a good thriller with some action and violence, and I am all set,” he took a sip of the soda and offered the straw to her. “Plus that cheesy romance stuff never happens for real and that just makes it worse, you know?” he said and allowed himself to slip back into his accent.</span><br/><br/>Taking a sip of the offered soda, she thought about what he said as she took another bite of pretzel. A light frown touched down on her features as she looked back over at him with a look of curiosity. “What do you mean, makes it worse? Besides, who says cheesy romance stuff never happens? Maybe it just doesn’t happen to us,” she asked back, stealing another sip, not bothering with hiding her accent any longer.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Because, these ridiculously awkward people are running around and it is just painful to watch. Tripping over themselves and acting a fool, I mean who acts like that, really?” he asked and offered her a piece of popcorn.</span><br/><br/>“Well,” she started, taking the offered piece and eating it before she continued. “You can act a fool when you want to...or, more aptly put, when you’re around one specific person.” Her tone was teasing, jest, no malicious intent. “But I think you’re wrong. Some people really do trip over themselves and act a fool, but they don’t realize they’re doing it. We’re the outside looking in, the people who are disillusioned and lacking in rose-tinted glasses. Who knows? Maybe we’d act that way if we met a person that brought it out in us.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Hmm…that might explain my whole foot in my thing,” he chuckled softly. “But I give in to you and shall look at the whole romantic comedy thing again. Maybe I’ve just been watching it with the wrong person?” he offered with a grin in her direction.</span><br/><br/>“Maybe you have; Or...maybe you’ll find out that it’ll offend your<span style="font-style: italic">werewolf</span>sensibilities and your view won’t change,” she replied, lightly nudging him with an elbow. “But you’ve now got a month of brunch with me--by the way, I’d still like to know how you did that--so, perhaps I can recommend some of the ones that aren’t too terrible.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Well, to be fair to you as you are going to claim this nonsense of needin’ beauty sleep,” he began in between some bites of popcorn. “I can sub out a few brunches for some movies nights? What do you say to that?” he asked before he took a handful of popcorn. “And nothing offends my werewolf senses, but perhaps bad odors. That offends them badly!” he said with a hearty chuckle and earned himself a shushing.</span><br/><br/>“It’s not nonsense,” she interjected with another nudge before falling silent to listen to him speak. The laughter was met with a quiet one of her own, one that she stifled behind a hand as he was shushed by the same man who shushed her after he’d found her originally. “But...that would be nice, not always having to get up at the crack of noon; Unlike<span style="font-style: italic">some</span>people, I do need my beauty sleep.”<br/><br/>There was only one issue she could see with their arrangement: Athan. Part of her had half a mind not to say a word to him about where she’d go or who she’d be with, so that he could get a taste of his own medicine...but another part of her didn’t want to be vindictive, knowing what hung in the balance. They all had to work together, and anymore drama wouldn’t be ideal. It may have been unavoidable in some aspects, like hanging out with Colt when he and Athan seemed to have such bad blood between them.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He’s not my keeper, though,</span>she reminded herself.<span style="font-style: italic">I’m free to hang out with whomever I choose.</span><br/><br/>“So, what else can you werewolves do, hmm?” Tempest whispered. “Are you affected by silver?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Alright, we will work out the days when you will get to sleep in for that <span style="font-style: italic">beauty</span> sleep,” he said with a grin. “Let’s see, I can lift very heavy things, run incredibly fast and yes I hate silver. I hurt quite a bit,” he said in a matter of fact tone.</span><br/><br/>“You can ‘lift heavy things’...sounds like an old gym commercial,” she quipped. “Now, you said the moon thing was just pop culture...does that mean you can just shift whenever you want? Do you lose control like the movies paint it out to be?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“The moon does play a part, but not what people think,” he began. “See the moon makes us stronger, faster and more beastly I guess would be the phrase. But I am not forced to shift at that time; instead I am just more heightened when it comes to what I can do. Otherwise, I can shift whenever I feel like it,” he said then continued to chomp on popcorn.</span><br/><br/>“So...say we hung out on a full moon or something…” she started, thinking aloud while she spoke. “Does this...beastly side only show itself while you’re shifted? Would I notice without you being shifted? If you shifted around me...would you attack me like all the movies show? They don’t exactly paint werewolves in the best light.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“That is such a crime too,” he said then helped himself to some nachos. “You may notice on like a subconscious level that I am more intimidating? Exciting? But otherwise I would be no different. However, you are perfectly safe around me when I shift. I’m not going to maul you or anything,” he said.</span><br/><br/>Glancing over at him, she regarded him for a few moments. “You know how ludicrous this all sounds,” she whispered, completely ignoring the movie at this point. “Werewolves don’t exist.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Yet, here we are talking about them,” he said to her with a grin. “Just because you have never seen one, does not mean it does not exist.”</span><br/><br/>“Or it means that you’ve been drugged and are living in a delusion where you’re stronger with heightened senses...which sounds like speed,” she teased back. “You found me, sure, but it could have been merely luck. What’s to say that’s indisputable proof that you’re what you claim?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“I could always find you again,” he offered. “Or I could show you some of the stuff that I can do?”</span><br/><br/>“You really are crazy…” she replied, not flat out refusing to have a demonstration. In fact, the next thing she said was, “Fine. I’ll take you up on your offer. What could you show me?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Hmm…” he thought for a moment. “Well, let’s go do the lifting part,” he said and grabbed a handful of nachos before he stood. “Come on,” he nodded with his head. “Don’t forget ya bags,” then headed down toward the screen toward the exit sign there.</span><br/><br/>Her eyes widened, watching him starting down the aisle without her. Not wanting to be left behind, she grabbed up her bags, she hastily ran after him, heading out of the exit door behind him. “Just like that?” Tempest questioned. “I’ve seen you lift people. What else can there be to lift?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Out in the alleyway he looked up and then down as he tried to figure out what he could lift for her. A shift in the wind and he gagged a bit from the stench of the dumpster that was against the wall. He thought about taking her somewhere else, but then he changed his mind. <br/><br/>“People are easy, they weigh nothing, especially you,” he said as he walked over to the dumpster. “A dumpster though,” he said and gripped it at the dumpster and lifted it. There was a bit of strain, but once he had it up on one side he was able to get under it and lift it up over his head. “A bit of work, but that too hard,” he said to her before he lowered it back down to the ground carefully.</span><br/><br/>“‘Especially me’, not even…” she replied, though her voice tapered off as he went up to the dumpster.<span style="font-style: italic">You’ve got to be kidding me…</span>came a thought, watching him preparing to lift it, and waiting for what she assumed was the inevitable outcome: a failure and a nasty-smelling dance partner. Instead, her mouth hung open as he hoisted it up and proceeded to successfully get under it. Half of her was expecting the worst, her hand in her pocket and ready to call 9-1-1 should it go south, but he managed to hold it over his head, and then lower it back down to the ground.<br/><br/>For a long moment, she said nothing, processing what she’d just seen. But, everything was explainable. “So, you’ve a rigorous workout routine; I’d have expected no less with all the muscles,” Tempest stated, though her voice wasn’t fully committed to the nonchalance of it all, despite her efforts to convince herself it was just good training. “What’s next?”<br/><br/>[color=#FF)000]“All the muscles, huh?” he arched a brow and grinned at her. “What’s next, huh?” he looked around and then looked up at the fire escape that was on the other building. “How about this?” he said and walked over to it until he was a bit closer, then he bent his knees slightly before he jumped into the air and grabbed hold of the metal that was on the third floor of the building. There he held on for a moment before he jumped back down to her.[/color]<br/><br/>Rolling her eyes was becoming the primary reflex shown around him. So many instances were set up for sarcastic remarks or her usual reply, but her eyes said it all for her. So, when he walked closer to the building, she followed his line of sight and perked a brow. She hadn’t expected him to jump to the third floor. Second, sure...but third?<br/><br/>Still she was unwilling to believe it.<br/><br/>“Dancers are notorious for jumping high given the extensive leg training they do…” she tried to shrug off, though her voice held less conviction than the first reply. There<span style="font-style: italic">had</span>to be another explanation. Perhaps he was one of Stan Lee’s superhumans or something. Maybe this was his super power.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Really? You think that comes from just being a dancer?” he asked with his fists on his hips as he looked at her in disbelief. “How many dancers do you know that can jump that high, or lift something that heavy easily?”</span><br/><br/>His disbelief was met with disbelief of her own. “It’s not every day someone claims to be a werewolf, so I wouldn’t know,” she replied coolly to that, crossing her arms. “I’ve not exactly asked someone to do those feats.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">“Alright,” he looked about again, his hand rubbed along the back of his neck in thought. “That only other thing I could do would be to show you, but that would mean shifting and I don’t like to do that in the middle of the city. You know on the off chance that someone sees me.”</span><br/><br/>“You’re honestly going to continue with this? You’re going to ‘shift’?” she replied, in obvious disbelief. “Colt, you can’t really be serious…” Her brow furrowed and her arms held herself tighter. “That’s not possible, to shift like that.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">"Tempest, I have not lied to you at all since I met you and don't see the point in lying about this. I mean honestly all it does it make me seem stupid and crazy which is not something I want," he said and sighed. "But if that is what you need to be convinced...." he looked about again then removed his shirt. "Can you hold my clothes?" he asked as he worked on undoing his belt.</span><br/><br/>“Woah woah woah, wait,” she started, shaking her head and taking a step back. “Why are you stripping?? We’re in the middle of an alleyway, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have to be naked to demonstrate anything.” But, he hadn’t lied to her...In fact, unlike Athan, he’d been forthcoming with everything but the accent. Athan...had withheld. It was just too incredible to be true, though! Werewolves were works of fiction; they didn’t exist in real life. They<span style="font-style: italic">couldn’t</span>exist in real life. “...I’ll hold your clothes, but if you start doing some weird rain dance or coming on to me, you best believe there will be a kick in your immediate future.”<br/><br/>Part of her last remark was joking, but the overall of it was serious.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">He slipped off the pants and then paused to look at her, “Promise me that you won’t scream or run. This is trippy to see, but if you scream and run people will show up and then...I don’t want to have to leave this place. I don’t want to have to leave you and the dance company. But if people show up…” he let the sentence drop off as he looked at her. “Promise me…”</span><br/><br/>That was a tall order. If he was truly going to do what he claimed, screaming and running seemed to be the appropriate course of action. But the look on his face had her pausing. “...I promise to...try not to scream or run...I’ll admit, you’ve got me worried with what you just said. However, I’m not much of a screamer, so it’s...the running that I’ll try not to do.”<span style="font-style: italic">I’m still crossing my fingers that you’re sick and this isn’t actually reality. “That’s all I can promise because I can’t guarantee that I won’t run, if what you’re claiming to do is true.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">There was nothing more to be said and he just held his breath and committed; next slipped off his underwear, which he handed over to her with a small smile.  Then there was a slow deep breath, followed by the [i]shift</span>. <br/><br/>It always hurt; the movies and other rumors were at least true in this aspect. No matter how many times he shifted or how long he has been doing it, the pain never changed. Heat. It always began with his body temperature rising and he felt like he was literally on fire. Then it starts with an itching, as the follicles of his hair changed to accommodate the fur it was to become. What came next is what hurt the most and one that he dreaded more than anything else. <br/><br/>Suddenly, there was the sickening sound of bone snapping as his knees inverted and he forward to the floor. Teeth gritted against the pain, he whimpered as his spine snapped, elongated and shifted in places. Next came his rib cage, the bones cracking and popping one after another while it expanded and shifted. At this point he had managed to roll over onto his side, his body continued to twitch and convulse until he was able to roll back over and stand up slowly to his new full height. She had not believed him and now she would be able to see the truth and know that he was as he claimed to be.</span><br/><br/>A brow rose, just a touch, as he slipped out of his underwear and handed it to her. That soon became backburner, though, the quips of how he’d only been using this as an excuse to show off his body...The wait she’d anticipated where she’d hoped nothing would happen was cut short, drastically so as steam began to rise off of him, her brow furrowing deeply at the change.<span style="font-style: italic">Well maybe it’s coincidence…</span>came a pitiful thought, one that shifted to the back of her mind as a sound met her ears, and a horrific sight met her eyes.<br/><br/>His knees, something was wrong with his knees. The snap resonated throughout the whole of the alley, taking a step back as his spine cracked next, the whimpers causing tears to raise to her eyes. Each moment that it prolonged, another step was taken back until her back hit the wall and then she watched in horror.<span style="font-style: italic">This isn’t happening!</span>she mentally screamed.<span style="font-style: italic">This isn’t real!</span><br/><br/>But it was real, and growing more and more realer by the second.<span style="font-style: italic">That...that isn’t Colt!</span>He’d begun to stand and the full weight of what had just happened slammed into her. Her head was shaking back and forth, the objects in her arms forgotten as she took a step away from him, a step toward the alley’s mouth. And then another, and another, picking up tempo until she decided to make a break for it.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-style: italic">Least she didn’t scream.</span><br/><br/>He thought before the took off after her and easily cut her off before she exited the alley. * Tempest…please…relax* he spoke into her mind. *I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you *</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">How the hell?!</span>came another thought as his invaded her mind, nearly running into him as he cut her off. "No, no, no, no," she repeated aloud, throwing his clothes and her bags at him, rushing the other way.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">A low growl of frustration and he again cut her off. His hands reached out to catch her and hold in place, * Tempest please…just relax* he spoke again into her mind and held her in place to keep her from running away again.</span><br/><br/>It took everything in her not to scream as he caught her, struggling to yank herself free. But the more she did so, the more the walls seemed to close in around her, the more she hyperventilated, the more she shook. And that voice in her head, "Stop! Please!" she cried at him, her thrashing becoming less by the second, the tears flowing freely. Her chest felt tight, her head felt light. "You're not Colt! Let go!"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Ears lowered and a soft whimper left his lips as he lowered his head so that she could look right in his eyes. *Look…* he gently implored. * It’s me…* <br/><br/>For all the change he had undergone, his eyes were still the same. The same eyes that had shared countless looks with her while they danced together. The same eyes that had looked at her earlier today while they laughed and shared a meal together; even if he was now in the body of a beast. Those eyes of his had not changed, not even in the slightest.</span><br/><br/>The whimper was ignored, and even the words in her head to look at him were further ignored. Though, eventually, she had to turn her blurry eyes to look at him as he wasn’t moving away from her. And it was that look, that look that had the tears continuing, that had her breath scant as her mind finally said the one thing that she’d been denying since he’d said it:<span style="font-style: italic">Colt...is a...werewolf…</span><br/><br/>A hand began to reach up, to touch his fur. Her lips parted, eyes blearily blinking at him as his name came tumbling free of her lips, fingers grazing up his arm. “You’re a…” But, the sentence never finished, the darkness she’d been fending off taking hold as she slumped.