Byron POV

Byron Swain looked at the image of Wisty. He wanted her to feel an emotion other than hate for him. Should I call her? He thought, but then pushed it away. She didn't love him the way he loved her. Sure there was that time she didn't pull away when they got out of the car after defeating The One. He still had a feeling there was still something wrong about that. He felt that the fight was too easy. After all, there was still Pearce. He hated Pearce, especially after he had kissed Wisty. His Wisty. At least he got his revenge. And before, with the Kill Team, she said she had started to believe in him. Maybe he should call her.

"Hello? Who is this?" Wisty's voice floated out of the phone.

"Um, Wisty, this is Byron. I need to talk to you in person. Can you come by my house for a bit? We really need to talk about… stuff." Byron said awkwardly. He didn't want her yelling at him.

"Sure B., I'll be over soon. And to be honest, I think we need to talk about something that's been bothering me too." She said.

Byron hung up, and sighed. He was glad she had agreed to come over. And that he had called her. But what does she need to talk about?