I felt the nicotine pulsing through my veins as I took a small drag off my cigarette. I closed my eyes against the bright sunshine, and exhaled slowly. Jake was somewhere nearby, inspecting some oddities of the sort, and wouldn't be back for a while. I sat on a large, flat rock that hung over the edge of the lake. The water below was shallow, and I could see the muddy bottom from where I sat, had I peered over the edge. I opened my eyes and watched the small fish and water-striders flit around for some time. They seemed so humble in the most interesting way, and I was soon too absorbed by their behavior to notice anything else going on around me.
"Hi," I heard an unfamiliar, even voice whisper from behind me.
I spun around, confused and startled; the sudden movement nearly put me in the shallow water, and my cigarette slipped through my fingers and landed with a sort of "plop" on the lake's surface, sizzling into non-existence. I clutched at my chest, and placed my free hand on the flat rock beside me in an attempt to steady myself.
I turned toward the object of my discomfort, prepared to shout at them in rage, but what I was about to say caught in my throat and all I was able to eject was a mumbled "Oh!"
The eyes which I beheld and gazed curiously back at me were breath-taking; not only in their color, but in their obvious depth and warmth, with an accent of a burning aspect that only made it harder for me to focus.
They were dark brown with a touch of hazel-green around the pupil, and I found it very hard to turn away. I blinked to try to clear my mind, and as soon as I broke eye contact I could feel the rage bubbling to the surface once again.
Since I couldn't trust myself to rise to my feet to approach the stranger and kick him in the shins, I settled for turning my back on him and, grumbling incoherently to myself, pulled my last cigarette from my pocket and raised it to my mouth.
Before I knew what was happening, I was attempting to light thing air in front of my face. I blinked stupidly, and after replacing my lighter inside of my pocket, I turned to see the stranger leaning casually against an adjacent rock that jutted nearly straight out of the ground. In his hands he held my cigarette, which he twirled gracefully between his fingers like it was a profession. I glared at him with pure distaste, as that was the only other cigarette I had with me.
"Give that back," I snapped. I was so unbelievably angry that I didn't notice how childish my demand sounded.
He looked over at me, smiling mockingly. I couldn't help but notice how strikingly beautiful he was, and had I not been prepared to tear his head off, I might have been compelled to ask him to join me.
"Smoking's bad for you, I hope you realize," he said in a weird accent, with the articulation I had only ever heard in old western movies when the Indians talked.
"Thanks for the concern," I replied as pleasantly as I could manage, "But I'm pretty sure the subject of my health is my own business." I could feel my rage slowly ebbing away, being replaced by determination to retrieve my cigarette.
"I suppose you're right," he said. The stranger shrugged, inspecting the cigarette before handing it out to me.
I reached out to take the cigarette, and he withdrew his hand, tapping the tip of his finger to his chin in contemplation. He looked at me from the corner of his eyes, and smiled.
"But then again," he continued, "I could easily deny you this temporary pleasure."
He continued to eye me curiously, gauging my reaction. I simply continued glaring at him.
"I wouldn't be surprised," I finally offered, "If you were getting some kind of sick pleasure out of teasing me."
The expression that crossed his face was attempting to portray innocence, but I could tell by his devilish smile that he was only acting. The expression as a whole could have been terrifying. I eyed him suspiciously.
"Quite the contrary," he replied, his voice making me shiver. Was it getting colder? I wondered to myself. He continued, saying, "I wouldn't tease about your safety, it's somewhat important to me."
"Somewhat?" I asked, snorting. "That's surprising, considering we've never met before, so you have no reason to be concerned."
I continued to glare at him coldly.
He studied my response for a moment, looking at me from beneath the dark shadow of his brows.
"Forgive me my rudeness," he said, softly and perfectly serious. He stood straight, and approached me. "My name is Ayden, and I apologize for not having informed you first-hand."
He bowed, which had an odd effect on my resolve. I could feel it dissipating at an alarming rate. I did, however, continue to glare at him, but I was sure it was impossible to not notice the curiosity I now felt.
After a moment of speculation, I offered him my name: "I'm Willow," was all I said.
"Willow," he mumbled under his breath, scanning my face with gentle eyes. "It's wonderful to meet you, Willow," he finally said to me.
Still smiling invitingly, he approached the rock I was sitting on, sitting down beside me, and I was immediately taken back by his appearance. His glossy black hair, which looked like he hadn't fixed it since he rolled out of bed, shimmered in the light. In the sun I could pick out hidden facets of blue and purple, which would have otherwise been lost. His figure was tall, but muscular, yet still somewhat soft, and he moved with such grace and swiftness to knock me out cold. The color of his skin was a pretty reddish brown, and it was perfectly smooth. I suddenly envied him this aspect. His hands were large and wide, and very smooth as he handed my cigarette out to me. I took it gingerly, my anger having completely disappeared by now, and I sighed inwardly as I observed this stranger before me. What was most captivating about him was his face. His eyes were something altogether different, rivaling Jake's in their beauty, resting under delicate eyebrows and flowing into a straight perfect nose. His lips, well, they were full and smiling—at me—and I realized then that he'd been observing me as I had him, and I turned away immediately, my face burning with unconcealed embarrassment.
I fumbled in my pocket for my lighter, and lifted my cigarette up to my lips, trying pathetically to distract myself and him from the situation. Before I lit the cigarette, I cast a speculative glance at Ayden; afraid he would try playing another trick on me, I kept my eyes on him, carefully avoiding contact with his.
I took a shallow drag, exhaled quickly, and then heaved a deep, contemplative sigh. I ventured a glance at Ayden, who was determined to avoid my gaze, smiling wistfully to himself. I smiled despite my complacent aversion to him, and allowed my eyes to pass casually over him, enjoying the spectacle.
His face was soft, making him look younger than his build and body structure suggested. No hair grew on his chin, and his lips were puckered, whistling an agonizingly cheerful tune. His dark hair was slightly wavy, tousled strands were playing across his eyes and forehead. I chewed on my lip, a nervous habit I'd developed over the years—lack of an outlet for an imaginative voice tended to do that to a person—and sighed softly.
Before I had time to think, his eyes were upon me, and a smirk crossed his face. The effect was glorious, and it took all that was in me to refrain from gasping aloud.
"So," he began, leaning back onto his elbows, "What is it you were doing out here all alone?"
I gulped audibly, pausing before I answered.
"I'm not alone," I replied, leaning forward and attempting to shake off the awkward feeling beginning to rise in my chest. "I'm here with my cousin."
"Ah," Ayden said, "the gangly fellow who seems to have an interesting obsession with nature?" He added to the nonchalant vibe by brushing invisible dirt off the front of his shirt.
I laughed, despite myself. Ayden smiled wonderfully up at me.
"Yep, that would be him."
I crossed my legs beneath me, and began twisting a piece of thread from my pants between my fingers. It remained silent for a moment while I avoided conversation.
"Forgive my curiosity," Ayden suddenly breathed. I looked up directly into his eyes; Had he been sitting that close the whole time? I quickly looked away. "But you don't seem to be native to this area."
I stalled for a moment, turning my focus back to the string and tying it into a knot. I tossed it into the water, and then looked up to meet his gaze. He smiled encouragingly back at me. I wondered half-heartedly why he was so interested.
"Maybe," I thought aloud, attempting to bore holes into his head where his eyes were, "It would be more polite to first tell me a little bit about you? Considering you were the one to interrupt my peace, after all."
I added that last part in for good measure. I also hoped he didn't notice that I had no intention of divulging any information about myself to him, in the first place. He didn't respond, or move, for quite a while. When I glanced at him, he was staring at me, a quizzical expression playing across his face.
"What?" I asked a bit bewildered.
Ayden took a deep breath and sighed. He looked at me very seriously, and, as he leaned towards me across the rock, whispered, "How do you feel about monsters?"
I stared stupidly at him for a moment, and then snorted. "Uh, okay, well what about them?" I asked, pulling my knees up against my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
"Nothing," he said, "just tell me how you feel about them."
My brows furrowed, and I looked at him questioningly.
"Alright, I'll bite," I finally replied. "What kind of monsters are we talking about?" I pulled a blade of grass from a patch that sprouted from between a crack in the rock, and began rolling it between my fingers. "Do you mean the monsters that lurk in your closet, or the creepy, touch-feely family friend of your dad's kind?"
Ayden laughed, the sound sweet and comforting. He selected a stone from the earthen floor, and flung it out into the water. I turned to look over my shoulder to watch the stone fly, but it seemed that it never landed in the water. I turned back to him, wondering if he hadn't thrown it, after all, but his hands were empty. He didn't seem to notice, being preoccupied with the conversation, so I attempted to focus back in on the discussion.
"Let's go for a walk," he suddenly said, jumping to his feet. He held his hand out for me, and I stared at it.
I shook my head. "If Jake comes back looking for me—"
"He'll be gone a while, and we won't go far," he said, cutting me off. "Besides, I want to show you the rest of the lake."
"Alright," I said, hesitating as I reached out for his hand. He grasped mine firmly, and lifted me to my feet with what seemed like no effort at all. He let go of my hand quickly, and my fingers seemed to tingle. I looked up at him just in time to see him wipe a frightened expression from his face.
"Come along, then," he said, cheerfully, one arm extended in an invitation. "Let's walk."
He kept a reasonable distance between us, which was comforting. I wasn't used to extending close contact beyond my own family. He kept stride with me perfectly, though I knew he could move much more quickly amongst the rocks and foliage if he had to, and I was somewhat flattered that he didn't seem at all irritated. He whistled to himself, brushing his hand over fallen logs and along the leaves of the ferns that grew beside the path. I watched him admiringly, or at least as admiringly as I could while also attempting to keep my footing steady. There wasn't anything as embarrassing as tripping while spending time with someone as handsome as Ayden, I thought dumbly to myself.
Before long we came to a narrow stretch of the lake where the opposite bank was barely a stone's-throw away. Here Ayden stopped me, a finger to his beautiful lips, and as he gazed across the water, he directed me with his hand toward where he stared, and there I saw a small band of deer taking turns sipping water from the lake. Ayden quietly sat himself on the shore, and patting the soil beside him, settled in for the show.
I attempted to sit as quietly as he did, but a stick snapped underneath my foot as I crouched down, and I looked up nervously at the deer. Each of their heads had shot up, and they were standing perfectly still, their glassy eyes trained methodically on where I stood. I looked silently over at Ayden, and he smiled at me, and as we both turned again toward the deer, all we saw of them were their white tails flashing as they bounded up into the forest and out of view.
I plopped myself noisily onto the ground, grabbed the stick which had scared the deer away, and lobbed it into the water. I crossed my arms and legs, and sighed.
"Sorry," I said to Ayden, a bit ashamed of myself.
"Sorry?" Ayden asked, suddenly turning from the water to face me. "What's there to be sorry for?"
"The deer, I scared the deer away."
"Don't be silly, Willow," Ayden chortled, "Scaring away a few deer hardly calls for any apology. Besides, there's such abundance around here, it's hard to keep tabs."
Ayden smirked at me, almost as if at some joke I hadn't picked up on, and I stared dutifully and red-faced at the dirt near my feet.
A few moments went by silently before Ayden said anything.
"The closet monsters," he whispered. I looked over at him; he reclined back on his hands, elbows locked, and had his legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles.
"What?" I said, breaking away from the sweep my eyes had made along his body. He was looking at me, his cheek pressed into his shoulder.
"The closet monsters," he said more clearly this time, staring at me darkly from beneath his slanted brow. "How do you feel about them?"
I blinked stupidly for a moment, and upon remembering our interrupted conversation earlier, after sputtering idiotically, fell into a natural rhythm of lecture.
"Well, for one," I began, "they don't exist. Monsters that lurk in your closet are created by the imagination with the sole purpose of giving an explanation of the unknown. That kind of thing just isn't real."
"I must assume by your choice of words," Ayden said, sitting up and curling a leg beneath him, "that you must know a great deal, for you don't seem afraid of anything." He leaned closer.
"Quite the contrary," I said, leaning away, "I know very little, but from what I do know, I can tell you this: There is nothing more terrifying than a lack of knowledge. Being helpless would leave me too scared to imagine. But I know, for a fact, that real monsters lurk among us, and not in our closets."
"Well, then, that's one thing we both agree on."
Ayden was close enough now that I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me nervous, him being so close. I could feel a pulse of static shoot down my spine and back up, raising the hair on my arms and causing me to gulp audibly.
"So," he whispered quietly, staring at me, a frighteningly playful look on his face, "what kinds of monsters do you believe exist?"
I looked away from him, across the lake. I rubbed my arms, trying to make the goose-bumps disappear. I wasn't even sure how to answer his question, let alone what he was getting at. I took a moment to collect my thoughts.
"The unconventional ones, I suppose." I had my arms wrapped around my knees again, and looked over to Ayden. He was leaning on his left arm, throwing stick into the water with his right. His brows were pressed together in a hard line. It was the most attractive expression on him yet, and it took all of my self-control to look away and hold in a shiver.
"What makes a monster conventional?" Ayden asked me, whipping his head around to look at me, and I glanced back. He eyes smoldered and demanded an answer out of me.
"Well," I said, looking away again and taking advantage of the motion to think for a moment. "I guess I'd have to say fabled creatures, like ghosts and Bigfoot, the kinds that lurk in the shadows and are hardly ever seen. Those kinds of conventional monsters."
"I can assure you right now," Ayden chuckled, "Bigfoot, as you call them, are perfectly real. And they are far from monsters."
"Them?" I replied. "You mean there's more than one?"
"Of course," he laughed. "How do you think sightings have continued over all these years?"
I shrugged, unsure.
"Why are you asking me about monsters, anyway?" I asked him, curious.
At that, Ayden grew suddenly cold. He was silent for what seemed an eternity, and didn't move or look at me. He simply twisted a blade of grass in his strong fingers, the tendons in his wide hand standing out. His dark hair—now completely black in the shade of the trees by the lake—hung around his head and blocked his face from my view. I wished I could reach out and offer comfort in the form of a hug, but knew how awkward that would be for both of us.
"Listen," I said, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry, but you've made me curious. You're talking about monsters, and you seem anxious about it. What is it you're getting at?"
At this point I could really see how deep the agitation went for Ayden. He didn't look over at me, but got to his feet, and brushed the dirt from his clothes.
"I have to go," he muttered, turning away from me and back again, as if unsure of this decision. I panicked a little on the inside, unsure of whether or not I was ready to let him go. Finally, my curiosity won.
"Don't go," I pleaded, "at least not yet."
Ayden's face was suddenly very close to mine, and he was whispering very hurriedly.
"If fear stems from a misunderstanding of the unknown, but you are perfectly happy in your ignorance of this particular case, then I'd rather you be happy then risk scaring you away with the knowledge I wish to bestow on you now."
He stared desperately at me for a brief second before turning and disappearing into the forest. I was instantly on my feet, ready to run after him, but thought better of the idea. Darkness was growing, beginning to settle in, and I could hear the tiny tree frogs and the crickets begin their nightly chorus. I couldn't believe I'd spent so much time out here with Ayden, and realized that Jake would be worried about me.
I found the path back to the rock, then made my way back to the cabin, my thoughts swirling in a confusing cloud. As I approached the cabin, the night had completely taken over, and the warm light from the windows streamed out for a long way along the lawn. I walked up the steps, and entered through the front door.
As I had predicted, Jake and my parents, as well as my aunt and uncle, were all gathered in the cramped living room. My mom was chewing on her bottom lip, and my dad was collapsed in an over-stuffed arm chair, a beer in his hand. As soon as they saw me, they all jumped up and converged on me, at first with thankful cries from my aunt and uncle, then angry threats from my parents, and then desperate apologies from Jake.
I listened impatiently, desperate for the escape to my room.
When I was finally rewarded with isolation, after a long interrogation and lots of excuses, I collapsed on my bed. The window was open, and I listened contentedly to the symphony of crickets and frogs, with the occasional call of a loon on the lake. Before long, I could feel myself drifting quickly off to sleep.
Dreams began to swirl around in my head, of the dark forest, the reflection of the moon off the glassy black surface of the lake, and the stars above, twinkling and forming their own pictures and stories as I watched. One group of stars in particular formed the picture of a man, standing tall and strong; slowly it rearranged to form a new picture—a wolf. In my dream I began to feel myself becoming scared, though the still-conscious part of me wondered why I felt so afraid. Suddenly, with a ripping snarl, the wolf took full shape and dove from the sky directly onto me.
I was gasping, sitting up in bed and clutching at my chest. In the distance, I could hear the howl of a wolf, it seemed somewhere on the mountain. I shuddered, and walked over to close the window. As I peered out, I thought I saw a dark shape run from the edge of the forest back into the shadow of the wood. I snapped the window shut, and lay back in bed. I rolled onto my side, and curled my legs up to my chest, willing sleep to again take me away.
The night cooled dramatically, and not long after I began to doze again did a storm cell pass right through town. I was startled awake from a dreamless slumber by the sound of thunder. I lay in bed for a long time afterwards listening to the rain against the roof and the crack and rumble of the storm. Eventually, though, I was able to fall back to sleep.