His Weakness

Hood Boy

I was walking the shoreline on a sandy beach, my face lifted toward the warm summer sun.  I let out a calming breath and, hearing, “Look,” I turned my head to find myself gazing down at a beautiful girl with auburn hair, her hand nestled in mine.  My hand was masculine, I noticed and, following the girls’ gaze, I noticed two couples settled upon beach chairs with their feet in the water.  They were familiar and gave small waves.  One face in particular stuck out and I smiled at the woman with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.  Mother.  I recognized her as my mother.  “They’re buying it,” the girl holding my hand whispered with a giggle.  Glancing back at the girl, I smiled at her and she hugged my arm to her chest, looking up at me with big doe eyes.  “Maybe they’ll give you a break now.”

    Chuckling in a deep masculine voice, I shook my head.  “No.  Never that.”

. . .

My eyes opened and, too comfortable to move, I stared blankly ahead at the wall taking in the deep rust stain.  Blood.  After the goat incident I felt it safe to assume that all of the smears were blood, probably from some other poor farm animal that had fallen victim to those . . . things.  They couldn’t be human.  Suddenly the little boy saying the words “blood bag” didn’t seem so out of place.

    Did they want to . . . eat me?

    My eyes landed on the water jug just within reach which was a quarter of the way full.  I reached for it without thinking, guzzling the entire thing.  I’d been thirsty.  So thirsty.  I sighed in a moment of relief before curling back on my side.  The floor had gotten cold again in just the moment I’d sat up and shivering, I pulled my blanket closer to myself and froze.  Blanket?  Sitting up and pulling the cloth in front of myself, I realized it was the same navy color as Hood Boys and turned to—Sweet mercy.  My eyes had landed on a figure doing pull ups just a foot away.  Holding on to the metal door frame with just the tip of his fingers, he lifted his body up to with an ease that wasn’t natural, and even with a t-shirt on, I could see the muscles lining his arms and back flexing with every movement.  Legs bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles, I recognized those army green cargo pants.  My mouth went dry again as I took in his shaggy blonde hair, broad back, strong jaw—Hood Boy without the hoodie was definitely a sight for sore eyes.  As if I’d called out to him, his green eyes flickered to me, nostrils flaring a bit on another lift upward.  Dropping my gaze, I blushed, realizing he’d just caught me staring at him.

    Weird.  I’m being a weirdo.

    I mean, it’s not like there’s anything better to do, right?  Was it really so wrong for me to want to ogle a perfect male specimen in the midst of all this misery?  A little entertainment to make the day go by faster.  My eyes flickered back up just in time to watch him drop down to his feet and, without so much a glance in my direction, he hit prone position, pumping out some push-ups.  He did that for a long time.  Too long.  Clutching his hoodie to my chest, I found myself wondering why he’d put it over me like a blanket.  How did he know I was freezing cold?  Well, my teeth had been chattering, hadn’t they?  Maybe the noise kept him up all night.  Geez, that would be kind of . . . embarrassing.

    He lifted his eyes back to me once more and I noticed that he wasn’t even sweating.  When he pushed hard against the floor and straightened to a standing position with an ease that seemed, well, kind of inhuman, I watched nervously as he headed back to his normal spot.  “Um,” I piped up, holding the jacket out in front of me, “this . . . it’s yours, right?”  The boy stared down at me with such a pensive look that I found myself getting distracted by his beauty.  Is it weird to call a guy beautiful?  Because that’s what he was with his straight nose, full lips, and strong jaw.  It was his eyes that left me stuck though.  The green was light and popped against his tanned complexion, even in the fluorescent lighting.  After a moment, I realized he was just staring at me mutely and cleared my throat, feeling kind of nervous under his scrutinizing gaze.  “Do you want it back?” I pushed, not really sure what else to say.

    “No,” he said gruffly, his voice deep.  Familiar.

    I blinked, furrowing my eyebrows.  That voice.  I knew that voice.  My mouth fell open but I managed, with great will power, to snap it shut and stare down at the hoodie in my lap in confusion.  We’d never met before so why do I know that voice?  Deciding it best to accept Hood Boy’s offer, I quietly muttered, “Thank you,” and pulled his jacket over my head, immediately overwhelmed by the scent of the soft, warm folds.  I’d leaned into it and sniffed deeply without much thought, my eyes fluttering closed in bliss.  It smelled so good.  I’d nearly inhaled deeply again, my common sense overtaken by whatever delicious cologne the boy used, when my eyes reopened to find him watching me.  He had this knowing look on his face.  Oh my God.  Ducking my head in humiliation at being caught sniffing his jacket, I pulled the hood up to hide my dazed state.  What the hell is wrong with me?  Am I a blood hound of something?  Pulling my knees up, I pulled the hoodie down over them, thankful for the immediate warmth.  My other concerns were almost completely forgotten as my frozen feet were almost immediately warmed.  Thank you Lord.  I vacantly realized that this jacket was huge on me.  Hood Boy was definitely a big guy and based on his physical abilities, probably a bit of a badass, so maybe that’s why he scared the other children?  But if he’s here, shouldn’t he be one of them?  I looked over at the other children, noticing how they were all watching me carefully.  Creepy.  Then again, I’m not one of them and here I am so maybe his story was more like mine.  Glancing back at the boy, I found it hard to believe.  He and I—we seemed like we would have very little in common.

    It was obvious that I was the odd one out of the bunch.  Being brought here was clearly just a terrible mistake.

    My thoughts were a tangled mess and, after sitting there arguing with myself for a long time, I lifted my head back up to find the dark eyed boy who’d offered to “warm me up” hitting his head again, his eyes glued to me as he did so.  It was threatening, I realized.  He’s probably . . . hungry.  And I’m probably considered “food” to them, whatever they are.  After a moment of unwavering eye contact, I realized he wasn’t blinking and I felt a shiver run down my spine.  It was definitely hunger painted across his expression as he stared at me and, when he finally looked away, it was to openly glare at Hood Boy who was looking back at him with an almost threatening gaze. The dark eyed boy grimaced, trying to stand but that force was upon him again, forcing him down to his knees.  Slowly, agonizingly, the boy crumpled in on himself, finally bowing his head.  It was a gesture of submission and as soon as he’d hit that position, Hood Boy let out a soft huff and his shoulders seemed to relax.

    Odd.  Whatever had just happened was unseen and the dark haired boy had submitted to Hood Boy, I realized, starting to piece together some of the odd behaviors I’d seen yesterday.  All the children being pushed to the ground when they came toward me—that was all Hood Boy’s doing, wasn’t it?  I wasn’t sure how he was doing it but it was happening too much for it to be a coincidence.  That would explain why they were angry with him—he was keeping the children at bay somehow.  Away from me?  Unconsciously, I found myself crawling closer to Hood Boy, sensing that for whatever reason he was playing an active role in keeping me safe.  His eyes fell to me as I scooted next to him.  He didn’t say anything but he also didn’t complain at our new proximity so that was good, at least.  I offered a small smile of gratitude, the least I could do considering he was probably the only thing keeping me alive, and he just snapped his eyes forward, ignoring me.

    Oh-kay.  That was pretty cold. I guess that was to be expected, right?

    I combed my fingers through my black hair self-consciously, realizing I probably looked an absolute mess. There were no mirrors around to check out my reflection and it had been a day and half since I’d had a bath.  I probably smelled funky.  That thought made me scoot a bit away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice if I was a bit ripe.  Pulling my arms into the hoodie, I pressed my cold hands between my thighs and tried not to make the sniffing of his jacket so noticeable this time.  It was an earthy scent, sweet and masculine.  I couldn’t tell what the cologne was but it had to be expensive.  It was worth the money if it still smelled so good after at least a couple days of wear.  Maybe that’s why he hadn’t wanted his hoodie back, I realized with my face heating up.  He probably thought it would be gross to wear it after I’d used it.

    It was a bit odd when I thought about how appetizing the materials scent was.  Teenage boys are usually smelly creatures.  Especially after a work-out.  Peeking over at him, I noticed that his eyes were closed, head leaned back against the wall.  He was incredibly handsome.  Squinting, I took a closer look, and found myself comparing him to Ethan who was arguably the most attractive guy in my high school.  While Ethan had dark features and that stereotypical bad boy look, he wasn’t as powerfully built as the boy next to me.  Hood boy was completely blemish free, odd for a teenager—assuming he was a teenager.  He didn’t have the lanky build of a teenager. I kept trying to see some kind of flaw in the boy beside me but came up short.  No moles, no freckles, no visible scars.  Just smooth skin and hard muscles.  Even the tattoo I could see peeking out of the top of his shirt, moving up in a design along his throat was incredibly sexy looking.  If Ethan was a solid 8, Hood Boy was a 10 . . . or higher maybe.  He could definitely model.

    I’d been leaning forward, admiring how long his eyelashes were—why couldn’t mine be that long?—when his eyes snapped open suddenly.  I jumped, snapping my eyes forward.  I was definitely staring at him like a total creep.  God, what’s wrong with me?

    “Like what you see?” he asked.

    Oh, I’d been caught.  Great.  Nervously my eyes shifted to him and he was glaring at me.  My chest seemed to constrict as I dropped my eyes back to the floor, wringing my hands.  “Sorry.”  I apologized because what else could I do?  There was no explanation for why I’d felt the need to stare at him.  I’d even moved into his personal space to see him better.  Weird.  I’m acting weird.  I’d never go out of my way to approach a stranger, especially one of the opposite s*x.  Maybe all this trauma was making me crazy.

    “That wasn’t an answer,” Hood Boy remarked.

    Confused, I glanced back up to find him smirking down at me, expression one with less venom.  It was almost . . . playful?  Blinking, I felt my mouth open but no words came out.  I mean, yes.  He had strikingly good looks.  If I didn’t like what I saw I wouldn’t have been left gaping at him like a fish.  Like right now, I realized, snapping my mouth shut, my cheeks heating up as I took in the glimmer in those insanely green eyes.  Theo always had beautiful green eyes but not like this.  Not like Hood Boy’s.

    “So?” he asked, quirking a perfect eyebrow.  God, Charlotte would be freaking out over this guy right about now.  Probably swooning on the spot.  Oh, Charlotte.  Thinking about my best friend left my mouth tasting sour.  And to think that girl was my best frie—he cleared his throat loud enough to startle me, my focus going back to the boy in front of me.  “I know you’re not mute.”

     Realizing that he wasn’t planning on leaving me alone until I responded appropriately, I whispered, “I’m sorry for staring.”  It was hard to pull my gaze away from those eyes but, somehow, I managed to look down at the floor.  I was also very sorry that he’d caught me staring but didn’t think it was worth mentioning that bit.

    He just hummed softly.  After a moment of sitting there stiffly, I finally dared to sneak a glance up at him and realized he wasn’t paying any attention to me at all anymore, eyes closed again.  I found myself frowning at him, unhappy with the prospect of being ignored yet again, but quickly stopped when one of his eyes opened, catching me in the act of staring again.  Panicked, I burrowed into his jacket, hiding beneath the hood to hide my frazzled state.  His scent calmed me almost immediately which made me even more nervous because it was almost as captivating as those eyes.  Something is wrong with me, I decided.  I am not okay.