The Vesper Creed

Chapter 3

Aizere's Point of View

Later that night, after the Hamiltons had gone home and the house had fallen quiet, I sat on the floor of my room surrounded by the last few unopened boxes from Georgia. The rain tapped softly against the window, a constant reminder of the Forks weather I was slowly getting used to.

I pulled open the flaps of a small, dusty box tucked at the bottom of the stack. Inside were random items—old notebooks, a few sea shells, and a thick winter coat I hadn't worn in years. As I lifted the coat out, something slipped from the pocket and fluttered to the floor, landing face-down.

I picked it up. It was a polaroid photo, the edges slightly yellowed with age. When I turned it over, my breath caught in my throat.

It was a picture taken inside the Mystic Grill. I recognized the red vinyl booths and the warm, golden lighting immediately. In the photo, a younger version of me was laughing so hard my eyes were closed, my face smeared with a bit of white sauce. Sitting right next to me was Ruan. He looked almost the same, just smaller, with that same messy hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was holding up a slice of pizza, the Margherita with extra bacon he had mentioned and was trying to feed it to me while I dodged him.

On the white border at the bottom, there was handwriting in black ink. It wasn't my dad's or my mom's. The letters were slightly messy but bold:

"Aizere & Ruan: The Carbonara Champions. Sunday, Oct 12."

I ran my thumb over the ink. Seeing the photo didn't make the memory suddenly flash back into my mind, but it did something else. It proved that everything he said was true. We weren't just kids who lived in the same town; we were a team.

Looking at my younger self in the photo, I looked so happy, completely untouched by the fear and the darkness that had followed the accident. I realized then that Ruan wasn't just a neighbor my dad liked. He was a piece of the puzzle I was missing.

I tucked the photo into the corner of the mirror on my dresser. For the first time since I woke up in that hospital bed a month ago, the girl in the reflection didn't feel like a total stranger.

"Aizere, Ruan is already here!" I heard my dad shout from downstairs.

I was currently in my room, standing in front of the mirror and double-checking my outfit. I had chosen a classic preppy-chic look: a slim-fitting cream cropped cardigan layered over a dark grey V-neck top, tucked into a high-waisted, pleated plaid mini skirt with a silver-buckled belt. I decided it looked good enough, grabbed my black leather sling bag, and headed down.

When I stepped out the front door, Ruan was already there, leaning against his brown car. He walked over and opened the passenger door for me. I smiled and climbed in, and he circled around to the driver's side.

"So, where's our first stop?" he asked.

I grinned widely and pulled something out of my bag. It was a card from my dad. He told me he'd been saving up for a long time just for me, and this was where my allowance would be deposited. My dad and I aren't exactly close, but I can tell that the bond between a father and daughter is still there—it never really went away, even during the years we were apart.

"Dad gave me this. Let's head to a clothing store first, then we can get my school supplies. After that, let's find somewhere to eat," I suggested.

"Copy that, ma'am," he teased.

I smiled at him, "Silly." I said and then he starts the engine within a few minutes, we arrived downtown.

He got out first to open my door again. He scanned the area as if looking for something specific, then pointed right in front of us. "This way. I know a*****e here that sells really nice clothes," he said.

We started walking toward the shop he pointed out. Ruan was busy talking, pointing out different stores along the way, when suddenly, I slammed into something hard.

"And over here is the store for—ouch." Ruan stopped mid-sentence and immediately checked on me.

Behind me stood the man I had bumped into. When he turned around, I finally saw his face. He had a perfectly sculpted jawline and a distinctive beauty mark just below his lower lip. His features were sharpened even more by his minimalist style—an all-black outfit accented by a fine silver chain and matching hoop earrings.

But his most striking feature was his eyes. Usually, they looked like a cold, stormy grey, but the moment they caught the direct glare of the sun, I saw a glint of burning red. My wandering thoughts were cut short when I heard his deep, baritone voice.

"Sorry."

After the man walked away, the air between us felt heavy and strangely cold. I was still caught in a daze, staring at the spot where he had just been standing, when I heard Ruan's voice.

The usual warmth and confidence in his tone were completely gone. Now, it was thin and strained, laced with something that sounded like genuine fear.

"He's back..." Ruan whispered, his eyes fixed on the man's retreating figure.

I looked at Ruan, confused by his reaction. He looked pale, his jaw tight as he watched the stranger disappear into the crowd. It wasn't just a casual observation; it sounded like he was looking at a ghost.

I turned to Ruan, my brow furrowed as I watched the color drain from his face. "Who is back, Ruan? Do you know him?"

Ruan didn't answer immediately. His hand, which had been resting on the car door, tightened until his knuckles turned white. He seemed to snap out of his trance when he realized I was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. He forced a stiff, unnatural smile onto his face and shook his head quickly, though his eyes were still darting toward the corner where the man had vanished.

"Nobody," he said, his voice coming out a little too fast. "Just... someone I used to see around before you moved away. I didn't think he still lived in Caxwell. Anyway, it doesn't matter. We're here to shop, remember?"

"But you looked terrified," I pushed, stepping closer to him. "Ruan, those eyes... they were red for a second. Is that even possible?"

Ruan let out a forced laugh and took my arm, gently steering me toward the entrance of the clothing boutique. "It's just the sun, Aizere. The light in Washington does weird things to colors. You're probably just tired from all the moving and the dreams. Come on, let's go inside before it starts raining again. You need to find something great for your first day at St. Carmelle."

He was talking over me, his words acting like a shield to keep me from asking anything else. As he opened the door to the shop and the bell chimed above us, he gave me a playful nudge, but I could feel the tension in his arm. He was trying to act like the same old Ruan, but the way he kept glancing at the window told a different story.