In The Dark: In The Dark

By Kaelyn Buzzo

"There are monsters in this world. Ones that cause trouble, ones that will not show themselves, ones that tell lies, and ones that stalk your nightmares. Mine has come to meet me in person."

 

Kalea lived a simple, carefree life on the threshold of entering college. That is, until one of the monsters found her. And kidnapped her. Taking her away from her home and throwing her into a place of darkness and screams. Of pain and torture.

 

On the cusp of giving up all hope, she finds a chance to escape and stumbles onto a secluded mountain property in Colorado. The strange men that live there take her in and give her shelter. They are kind, but they have secrets they're not telling her. Meanwhile, her Monster is searching for her, and unexplainable things are happening that scare her.

 

In this thrilling supernatural adventure, readers will follow Kalea as she finds her place in a world full of monsters, magic, and madness. They'll grab hold of the dark secrets that surround her, the fierce friendships in her new community, and the strength of her fortitude as she barrels through tragedy to learn who she is, what she can do, and who she is meant to become.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kaelyn Buzzo
• Release date: Oct 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223014386

Book preview

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In The Dark

Kaelyn Buzzo

First published by Writing Workspace 2021

Copyright © 2021 by Kaelyn Buzzo

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author.

Book Cover by Katarina

Editing by Nessa

Editing by The Romantic Editorial Services

First edition 2021

One day you will tell your story about how you overcame that battle you went through, and God will send you the exact people who need to hear that story.

Unknown

For those who believed in my goal, my dream, my passion.

To myself, thanks for not giving up.

To God, without Him, none of this would be possible.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

AUTHOR'S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALSO BY KAELYN BUZZO

CHAPTER 1

Screams and shouts echoed throughout the humid night’s air. My heart rapid-fire against my chest.

The sounds of her struggles cut off. The raged warrior cry abruptly morphed. Terror combined with unimaginable pain heightened the pitch of her voice, latching onto me as I peeled farther and farther into the bare forest. My throat squeezed. I pumped my arms faster. Her screams followed me, the steady stretch of distance dimming the heartbreaking confession of agony. A loud crack slammed into my senses, causing me to stutter in my stride. A branch had broken underfoot. I couldn’t hear much over my rushed footfalls and ragged breathing. They had to be following me. Were they close? Breathing down my neck? Waiting to strike? To take me back? To kill me? Back of my neck tingling, I pushed harder. Faster. Far away from here. From them.

Air whistled past. Branches tore at my skin. Rocks stabbed my bare feet. My muscles burned, begging me to relent. To ease my pace. But I couldn’t; not now. If I was caught, a promise of a much more painful fate than my lack of endurance awaited me.

Blood and dirt marred the once-white material of the formless dress I was forced to wear. I maintained a relentless pace. Sweat soaking my skin. Add in a dash of humidity and a whole lot of fear, and I was drenched, the dress clinging to my body like a second skin.

When I was first captured, I’d plotted and planned every second I was awake. How far I would go to get out, what I would do to them once I got out. Bitterness raked my insides. But what could I do? Nothing. I was powerless. Weak. Helpless. That point had been absorbed harshly and quickly after my first—and only—attempt at escape. I didn’t try again.

I had given up hope. Until tonight.

I would have rotted in that cell if it weren’t for her. She created a window of opportunity. A small one, but one that couldn’t be wasted. And yet, I had hesitated for the barest of moments.

That hesitation might cost me.

***

Time passed. I wasn’t sure how much.

I moved on autopilot. Fearful and paranoid, I ran and ran, sustaining my pace with an innate sense of direction. Somehow, I didn’t collide into a tree or—God forbid—off a cliff as I weaved through the forest.

The terrain blurred past. I continued on as if the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels. In the dark, the trees loomed over me. An eerie presence at night, now comforting, as if I were being shielded in the cover of their bare branches. Everything was dead and dark here. The trees had no leaves or greenery. There was no grass, only dirt and rock. Life had been sucked out of this place.

Inconvenienced by my rebellion, would they kill me on the spot? Or would they take me back and make me plead for death? I shuddered, hardening my resolve to keep going. To hurry. For there was one solid conclusion in what would happen if they took me back.

I wouldn’t make it out a second time.

I scrambled for a plan, mind racing at a pace rivaling my feet. Find shelter and food. Somewhere to lay low and recoup.

Resentment that burned like acid had me surging forward with renewed fervor. Laying low was impossible, and not because of the current state of my clothes and matted hair that hid my natural blonde coloring. What kept me from being considered invisible, from blending in, wasn’t removable. Etched into my skin was a harrowing reminder of who and what would find me if I stopped. If I was caught.

Flames steadily encroached, penetrating my lungs and making it hard to breathe. The fire spread to my legs as I pushed on. White clouds ghosted past as I gasped for air. The night air had grown chilly, my sweat-soaked gown worsening the conditions tenfold.

A blast of wind slammed into my face, momentarily blinding me. I gasped in shock and then again in fear, for I found myself surrounded, but not by pursuers. Gusts of air encircled me, and I shrieked as my feet left the ground. I tried grabbing onto some sort of anchor, a stray root or branch, but what I could only describe as a whirlwind enveloped me, leaving me helpless to its tempestuous force. Absolutely terrified, I clutched my limbs to my torso and covered my head.

Then, as abruptly as it had come, it was gone. I yelped, my back smacking the forest floor. I laid there, stunned, dragging in air like a banked fish.

Grass cushioned my forearms and hands, replacing the barren ground of sticks and dirt. Lush greenery covered almost every inch of space available, the rich color of plants boasting the bountiful nutrients provided to them. Birds flitted about, chirping happily and singing to anyone who would listen. The aura of this place was so…light. Sunlight peeking over the curtains of the mountains contrasted heavily with the eternal darkness I had escaped from.

Steeling myself, I stood up on shaky legs. I examined the surrounding luscious oaks, tall pines, and rich flora for hints of danger, like, say, sudden whirlwinds. My concerns were left graciously unfulfilled. Seeing no other option but to adapt to the turn of events, I warily trekked forward into the unknown.

The pulsing urgency to run had dissipated. The hairs on the back of my neck, previously ramrod straight, steadily flattened. The tension tightening my shoulders lessened the further I traveled. Wherever this was, they weren’t. More than once, I staggered. Invisible metal chains dragged behind me as I pressed on. My lungs were able to catch a break at this ambling pace, but my legs? They were giving out, and I wasn’t far from giving in. The luscious forest floor was increasing in its appeal as a makeshift bed.

Still, an inexplicable sensation prevented that from occurring. It drew me forward, a magnetized pull from deep inside my gut. Tugging at me when I paused for too long. The energy to rebel was nonexistent. The charged sensation willed me to persevere. To blindly follow.

Eventually, the tree line receded. A beautiful two-story wooden house came into view, standing in the center of a large clearing. The porch lights were off, along with the indoor ones. It appeared empty, but too well-kept to be abandoned. Maybe it was a vacation home for a family. My legs were ready to give out as the adrenaline rush abandoned me. My feet dragged as I wobbled closer. Grass caressed my shins as the sun languidly rose higher into the sky.

In the removal of shadow, in the dawning of light, the house was like a beacon. I was the puppet, and the house was the puppet master.

It was unsettling how quiet it had gotten. The song of birds gone, the rustle of leaves silent, as if holding their breath. Waiting. Watching.

I reached a wide set of stairs leading up to two massive double doors. Halfway up, my legs decided they’d had enough. My knees cracked on the wooden stairs, splintering the skin. I cried in silent frustration. On my hands and knees, I crawled the rest of the way.

Somehow, I managed to drag myself up to the thick, oak doors. Beyond it lied what had called me here. I stretched a hand up, hovering over the gold handle. A tear fell as I shut my eyes. I prayed. Prayed that the door was unlocked. God, let there be no one inside. I don’t know what Your plan is, God, to have me suffer as I have, but please give me rest for one night. I’m so tired. I had nothing left in me to run or defend myself. I had to open the door. Holding my breath, I lowered my hand, pressing down against the cold metal handle.

God must have been listening, granting me mercy. The door creaked open.

The strangest sensation hit me. One of coming home after a long absence. The intensity rocked me, hitting my chest and squeezing it tight. A relieved sob left me, along with my breath.

Bonelessly, I collapsed to the floor. Sleep finding me.

***

Sunlight crept into my vision. I was being pulled out of the comforting relief of sleep. I winced, covering my face with an arm. Then winced again for a different reason.

It felt like I had carried a bag of bricks across the country. Twice. My body was battered. I was stiff. My joints ached. I shifted to test for any blatant signs of injury. Pangs came from my feet and knees, but otherwise, the only other pain was the soreness of my muscles. Whispers sounded from nearby. My head pounded, and as the sounds continued, my ears rang a gut-wrenching toll. The simple noise triggered something in my memory.

That’s when I remembered the screams.

Remaining where I was, I listened for what woke me. Fear slammed into me. Fear at the sound of urgent whispers nearby. Unmistakably deep and throaty in pitch.

Male.

I scrambled upwards on all fours, wincing at the pangs of my hurting body. I ignored the figures that flinched back at my abrupt movement. I had passed out in the entryway, with the door still hanging open. Without sparing another glance at the figures, I rushed outside on aching limbs.

Wait! A deep voice hollered.

I didn’t bother with the stairs, throwing myself over the railing. I rolled forward until I came to stand on two feet.

Holy crap. Another voice said somewhere behind me.

I didn’t bother to hear what else was said. I bolted. All my focus on the tree line in front of me. Please don’t follow, please don’t follow, please don’t follow. I heard the sounds of feet pounding closer, and I urged my heavy limbs faster with a whimper on my lips. Entering the edge of the forest, I dodged trees and rocks the size of minivans. The effort strenuous on my sore limbs. My heart raced in fear with the strain of pursuit. I desperately hoped it was equally as challenging for my new pursuers to follow. Yet, the sounds of their footsteps remained persistent.

I had been foolish, passing out and leaving myself vulnerable. No matter how exhausted I’d been. If they didn’t have me arrested for breaking and entering, then I’d be taken to the hospital or the police station based on my appearance alone. Either one would end up with questions and nosy reporters, which I couldn’t afford.

Nothing would stop them from retrieving me. A human would be a tasty snack in their way. A badge and a gun were of little consequence to them. I wanted to prevent the meaningless loss of lives—and whoever was chasing me now would be no match for what was coming. That is…if these strangers weren’t one of them, in which case, I really wasn’t going to stop.

I refused to go back.

A loud roaring found my ears, the sound drawing closer as I raced forward. A cluster of trees came into view, a clear blue sky lying behind them. Freedom, it said. Freedom is here.

Stop! A voice yelled, That drops off to the river!

My breath seized. The sound of rushing water roared louder and louder, consuming me.

I’m sorry, I whispered to the sky. Sorry for not being strong enough. Fast enough. For wasting your sacrifice. For having to resort to this.

I tilted my head upwards to embrace the warmth of the sun on my face one last time. Sucking in a ragged breath, I clenched my hands and pulsed my arms faster.

Kade, grab her!

They wouldn’t be quick enough.

It was a bittersweet feeling. I wouldn’t have to fear for my life. But that bubble of relief was popped by the knowledge that I would never again bathe in the sun’s warmth or see my parents’ smiles. I would never get a chance to live again. But it would be better than fighting to survive in confinement. It had to be. Going back would drown what was left of my soul in acid. I was not going to die by their hands. I would not let them take that unique piece of myself that made me—me. They would not receive the pleasure of ripping my body and soul apart any longer.

Rocks jabbed my bare feet, but I didn’t care. The stabs of pain would be the last. I reveled in that fact as I ate up the last few strides to the edge.

Nooo! A chorus of voices roared.

I jumped.

Blue sky and sunshine welcomed me into its motherly embrace—and didn’t quite let me go. I didn’t fall, plunging to my death in the river below as gravity intended. Something held me suspended above the river. It smoothed away unshed tears as I curled into myself. Like a doll, I remained helpless as a brief touch of light caressed my cheeks with whispers carried in the wind. Words that I could make out clearly past the angry roaring of the river below. A calm strength spoke to me.

It is not your time, child of mine.

The voice was unhindered by the roaring of the river and the gusts of wind rushing by. Clear as a bell and as unwavering as the rising sun. He spoke. Gentle, yet firm. He told me of what was to come. Warning me of the evil that did not discriminate. That would take down any in its path of greed and destruction. How I would need these very strangers I ran from at my side to succeed. His words struck a chord within me. My mission to come was one of trial and pain. Weariness dragged my consciousness, pulling at me like a determined child. Would I find no rest?

Vaguely, I thought how weird it was to be having hallucinations as I fell to my inevitable demise. But who was I to judge? I was about to die.

A distant flapping of wings reached my ears, and then I was released from the suspended embrace mid-fall. All at once, the angry roar of water and the whipping of air returned. I was dropping. The raging water below rushed to meet me.

I was free.

***

Sitting on the porch at home, I snuggle into a fuzzy blanket. A cup of hot chocolate warming my hands.

A soft, feminine laugh echoes through the open window beside me. A male voice responds in turn with a bellowing laugh, and I snicker quietly into my cup.

The screen door creaks open as my mother steps out. Wavy brown hair falls to her shoulders, gentleness in her caramel eyes as she looks at me.

Okay, honey. We’re going to head out for dinner.

Wish me luck, sweetie, my father stage-whispers to me. I heard she’s an expensive date. My mom smacks his chest, not fighting the smile that escapes. Her hand rests on my father’s chest, his arms encircling her waist.

Have fun! I holler as they stroll to my dad’s truck. And be back by midnight, or you’re both on dish duty for a month.

Ok, Mom! They yell back past their laughter.

Shaking my head, I settle back down into the cushions, watching their truck leave until the red taillights are no longer visible. I take another sip of my drink, feeling the chocolatey goodness warm its way down to my stomach. Resting my head back on the back of the porch swing, I revel in the cool breeze and peaceful night. Eyelids drifting shut as sleep lures me into its embrace.

***

I wish I would have known what would happen once I awoke. If I had, I would have never fallen asleep. I would have made my parents bring me along with them. I would have done something, anything differently.

CHAPTER 2

I awoke to a gray ceiling, severely confused and wondering how I wasn’t dead.

I shifted my body around, surveying the damage. A sharp tug stung my inner elbow, preventing me from moving freely. Nerves rattled my chest, an all too familiar feeling nauseating me.

Was I on the table again? Had they moved me to a different room? I hadn’t been in this room before…

Glancing down, I found myself tucked into a massive comforter on a bed. Using my free arm, I flipped back the thick material and saw that a needle was injected into my arm. A thin, transparent tube was attached to it, and as I followed the length of the tube, I realized I was hooked up to an IV. A bag filled with clear liquid hung on a metal stand that stood sentinel at the side of the bed.

This didn’t look like a hospital…so where was I?

I racked my brain, trying to remember what happened. The foggy remnants of sleep made it difficult. The bed was sucking me back into its cozy embrace, lulling me into a state of ease and comfort.

I snuggled further into the heaven that surrounded me. The comforter was dangerous, engulfing me in fabric on par to the softness of a chinchilla’s fur and the fluffiness of a cloud. When I finally mustered the willpower to move, I regretted it instantly.

Every inch of my body hurt. And I wasn’t exaggerating when I said every inch. My dang pinky toe hurt, which made sense since I had been running around barefoot. But it was sore? Since when did pinky toes get sore? Or toes in general? Did I miss the news on that?

Pulling back the comforter again, I noticed someone had changed me into a clean navy-blue shirt. It was ridiculously large, falling past my knees. I stretched the cotton fabric up to my nose. Leather, a hint of engine grease, and some weird mixture that reminded me of the humidity of summer and the crispness of winter filled my nostrils.

Tears finagled into my vision, blurring it, the smell of engine grease reminding me of my father when he would work on his truck or his baby—the motorcycle that camped out in our garage. The strange combination of scents soothed my rattling nerves at waking up in the unknown room.

With a sniff, I rose to sit against the headboard of the bed. If it could even be considered a bed.

The thing was made for a giant. Width- and length-wise, the bed would comfortably fit seven Shaqs. All of the light gray bedding was soft and fluffy, making it effortless for my sore body to relax and sink into—at least it should have.

I had trouble fully relinquishing control. I had jumped off a cliff and came out basically unscathed. That wasn’t normal. Or possible.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I dragged my gaze around the rest of the room. The bed should have been enough warning of what to expect. The room was three times the size of my bedroom back home—meaning whoever lived here had to be filthy stinking rich. I came to the conclusion I was in a guest room. There were no personal touches added, only the basics. To the left of the bed was a window, sunshine shining through. I considered for a moment, trying to use the window to get out, but then I remembered how high up I was. I’d undoubtedly break an appendage attempting to Spiderman out of the window. A dark, wooden dresser stood directly in front of the end of the bed, against the wall. To the right of it was the entrance to the bathroom. To the left of the dresser was a doorway leading to what appeared to be a walk-in closet.

Confusion mingled in my perusal of the room. How did I end up here? But more importantly—

Why wasn’t I dead?

Ignoring the agonizing pain, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Black immediately spotted my vision. After taking a moment to collect myself, the black receded. Once the conjoining numb feeling in my head and limbs went away, I did what any sensible person would.

I ripped out the IV like it was a gosh-dang Band-Aid.

I may or may not have counted down from five once or twice and started over. But, that’s not the point. Once that nasty, death needle was out of my arm, I managed to stand on my own two feet—to the dismay of my pinky toes. And my aching body.

Keeping my steps light and ignoring the pangs in my feet, I walked to the white door at the right of the bed. Anticipating it to be locked, I brought my shaking hand to the doorknob and gave it a twist.

Click.

Internally, I sighed in relief. Externally, I tensed as I crept the door open and listened.

Nothing. Not a sound.

I waited.

A bird chirped outside the window. Another responded. I peeked through the crack of the open door to find…an empty hallway.

Huh. Weird. No guards were stationed at my door.

If this was the same house I thought it was, there was more than one person here. There had been more than one figure when I woke in the doorway. More than one voice had called out to me to stop as I ran to my death. Were they waiting for me? Was this a trap? A setup? Leaving the door unlocked to catch me trying to escape so they could enjoy the chase? I tightened my grip on the door handle. I got this far. I wasn’t going down without a fight. When the silence caused my ears to ring and my memory of her screams to surface, I took a daring step into the hallway.

The room I exited sat at the right end of the hallway, facing the stairs. Three more doors lined the hallway. One directly across from me and two on the other end of the stairway. I hesitated with one foot in the hallway and one in the bedroom. Suspenseful situations had never been my forte, so when the urge to throw caution to the wind and sprint down the stairs to freedom threatened to drown me in its urgency, I stamped it down with an iron fist.

In uncharted territory, scrambling about without taking note of possible threats and exits was doltish. I wanted a chance. Pounding my way down the hallway, sounding like an elephant and alerting the occupants within a mile radius, was not how I was going to do that. Trepidation had me breathing in a rhythm similar to a pregnant woman giving birth until the urge to bolt became manageable. A strained calm fell over me.

Breath held, I silently tiptoed to the stairs.

Each step down the polished wooden stairs was deliberate. I worried there would be spots that creaked, but my worries were pointless. None of the steps creaked. Whether that was perfect placement or impeccable design, all I cared about was that no noise alerted others of my descent. Sweat rolled down my back by the time I reached the last couple of steps. Reaching the last step, I let loose my breath as I paused to assess my surroundings.

The house had an open setting. To my left was a dining room. The centered table was carved out of an impressive slab of wood—as were the chairs. To my right was a spacious kitchen, a window peering outside to the vast mountain view. I zeroed in on the front door placed directly in front of the stairwell. I glanced longingly to the kitchen. Hunger squeezed my stomach, coiling in on itself. I had to seize the window of opportunity given to me to escape while I still could. My heart pounded. I placed my foot on the cool, wooden floor. And froze at the sound of conversation entering the house.

Snapping my head around, I found a whole other room behind the staircase. Scratch that—an entire other section of the house. Directly behind the staircase, at the other end of the room, was a door. And filling that doorway were two formidably large men.

I choked as my heart entered my throat. The two men abruptly halted their conversation. They paused, gaze traveling up in uncanny precision. Seeing me peering over the railing of the staircase, they froze.

I stopped breathing. They lingered, their gazes locked onto me. I darted my attention from one set of eyes to the other, my hand clenching the wooden railing, making it creak in protest. The pounding of my heart raced faster the longer we remained interlocked in the exchange. No one moved. Tension weighed the air, pressing down on me. Why were they just standing there? My muscles clenched tighter and tighter, the pressure rising until I couldn’t take it any longer.

I broke eye contact and bolted.

Wait!

Reaching the front door, I struggled to pull it open. The door was unlocked, but it refused to budge. Glancing back, I saw the two men almost at the bottom of the staircase. I wouldn’t have spotted it if I hadn’t looked back, but there was a second stairway next to the one leading upstairs. But this one led downstairs to a basement. My mind blanked in terror, halting my retreat for the barest of moments. Then fear prodded me to get moving. Muscles straining, I pulled with all I had, yanking the door open. I surged forward, promptly face-planting into a brick wall with the outline of a body. A shocked yelp left me as I stumbled to the ground.

On the floor, I looked up.

And up.

From my point of view, I had an eerie realization of what it felt like to be a toddler again. I gaped in awe. The man had to be seven feet tall with the muscled mass of the Mountain from Game of Thrones. Dirtied jeans and a plaid shirt covered burnt copper skin. A beard hid his jaw, brown hair brushing the top of broad shoulders. Intense, gold eyes rimmed with green winced down at me.

Are you alright? The accented lilt of his deep voice upturned my insides. This man was undoubtedly the person in charge. He stood tall, the authority asserted into the structure of his voice, of his poised standing, tumbled me in a whirlwind of emotions. Did he demand or expect respect? Would he demand my compliance as they did? Leaning down, he extended a hand.

Coming back to my senses, I flinched back. His eyebrows furrowed, expression darkening.

I won’t hurt you. I want to help you up, he said gently. His hand remained outstretched.

Making a point to eye his hand, I scooted back. Pulling my legs to my chest, I stared at him. Not daring to blink for fear of what he might do.

Sighing, the man retracted his hand and scraped at his beard.

She’s afraid of us, Kade, someone said to the man before me in horrified revelation.

I scrambled to the side. The two men had sidled up behind me. I had forgotten about them. The imposing presence of the man at the door consumed my attention. Being surrounded by the three men impaired my senses. Claustrophobia, tag-teamed with the preconception of violence, made my sore limbs shake, suctioning the air straight from my lungs.

Easy there. We aren’t going to hurt you, assured the blond man standing in the middle. His reassurances did nothing to calm me. I darted my focus between the three of them.

My eyes widened with my inspection. They must’ve been taking daily doses of growth hormone cupcakes mixed with steroid sprinkles or something. All of them were abnormally large—tall and built. They were picturesque super soldiers. The mountain they called Kade was indisputably the tallest by three to four inches. He was a brawny guy, looking to be in his late twenties, with a presence wholly inhuman in the wholesome power of his presence. A general fresh off the field, a demand for order pulsating from him.

The others’ impressive statures were not diminished. The blond and dark-haired men were younger, in their mid-twenties. Though leaner, they were not small by any means.

The blond wore a pair of basil-green joggers and a white V-neck. He had the outward appearance of a stereotypical angel, glowing ambiance, with the cherubic innocence of, well, an arrow-carrying baby cherub. His orange-tinted blond hair started to curl but gave up in a half-baked wave. It was finger-length, swaying to the right. Noticing my inspection, he combed his bangs back, the untamed mess of hair having a mind of its own and falling back into place over his brow. His eyes were emerald with a twinge of orange, like his hair. Freckles scattered freely across his cheeks. My first impression of him—the good-natured, sociable guy. Most likely popular in school because he vibed with all the different cliques. The intriguing sight of two matching piercings marking his left eyebrow altered my first impression. He had a bit of a rebellious side.

The name’s Wyatt, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the dark-haired man on his right, and this is my adorable twin, Nico.

My eyebrows furrowed disbelievingly, and Wyatt laughed.

They were like night and day in all senses of the word. Wyatt’s aura was a rush of adrenaline, of sunshine and bubbling laughter that burned your tummy. Of springtime and cold lemonade. Nico was quite the contrary. A soothing summer’s night, of lightning bugs twinkling in the dark, and evenings spent cuddled in bed reading a book. Of moonlit nights lying on a trampoline, staring at the star-speckled sky. Dressed similarly, he matched Wyatt’s white V-neck shirt, changing it up with a pair of black joggers as if to add the barest revolt to the twin-matching stereotype. The similarities ended there. He had hair as black as his pants, tinged with varying purples. The top half was pulled into a gentle bun at the back of his head with stray hairs rimming his face, the bottom layer covering the nape of his neck. Hypnotizing gray eyes triumphed against pale skin and black eyebrows. Holding an inherent intellect, absorbing factors and outliers like a sponge. They minutely sharpened, a honed blade drawn