*LJ. Smith owns the Night World Series.*

Hey, feel free to adjust the font size! It'll be so much easier to read.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" Iona wasn't offended by Timothy's rude act but she was certain she'd been blushing for hours now. Wow, it never occurred to her, they've been talking for hours…

It was embarrassing, and why doesn't he look offended?

Timothy wryly smiled, tilting his head. "I'm trying to find out if you're really human…"

Made sense, Iona thought, most people are intrigued by me. "I –I'm not exactly."

"I thought so." His narrowed blue eyes gleamed with immense curiosity. "You're a witch, right?"

Iona slowly shook her head. "We're a lot more human than most Night People." She gave him a hint.

He gasped, blinking out disbelief. "You're an… Old Soul?"

"Yes," she whispered lightly, not liking his reaction towards her kind.

For the first time, since they made their way into the kitchen and sat beside each other, Timothy looked away. He looked at his feet for what felt like an eternity. And Iona couldn't speak –she didn't want to. Her lips were pressed tightly.

But she didn't look away like he did. A wiser and hopeful side of Iona was interested herself, waiting for that change in his features when he finally gets his thoughts together. Because, it was expected, they were friends after all.

He can't change who she is, which was what most Night Person she'd made friends with wanted to do. Not exactly, but there was that dream in their eyes of her being just a normal human or another Night Person.

Old Souls… they're easy to get attached to, only difficult to let go of –probably impossible. Especially if they're soulmates, Iona cherished the thought, like Thierry and Lady Hannah. A thousand years can't break their invincible connection apart.

Love… hmm?

Iona knew Timothy was older than her, almost as old as Jez, but he always seemed very childlike that the fact was hard to remember.

And, of course, if you counted the age of the soul, well. Iona couldn't help giggling, which made Timmy jerk once and glance at her, she willed the idea to him: She was one of the oldest Old Souls –she's almost ancient.

Then she shivered and saw Timmy shiver.

"I got freaked out myself when I first found out."

"Really?" Timmy smiled. "I don't believe you."

Iona shrugged and bit her tongue. "It's my voice, isn't it? I'm so calm, I know, it's not my nature to exaggerate things. I ponder a lot. And that helps but, you know, I'm as human as my mom; as human as anybody. I get surprised too –and scared, and angry, and disappointed– "

"And you fall in love." Timothy supplied innocently.

All Iona remembered was that lurching beat of her heart filling her ears. Then in the next instant, Quinn was there. The two children shifted with an inaudible gasp.

Quinn leaned on the table with both hands, sleek dark hair swiftly falling over his forehead. He eyed the two of them. "I heard the 'L' word, what's going on here?"

"I said Lab." Timothy was clear minded and answered quick. "Iona mentioned her friend had a dog and I asked if it was a Labrador."

"That's very stupid." Quinn wasn't a fool. "Try again."

Quinn!

Iona wasn't the fastest but she caught up pretty well, just then Quinn smacked a hand to his forehead as Rashel came into the kitchen. Iona didn't really understand why they began crowding in there so suddenly but she really liked the laugh Timothy was making. Carefree and so fitting, she had to laugh too.

But then Timothy stopped –right after he got his eyes opened and saw Rashel. "What are you wearing?!" He demanded furiously that Iona choked in mid laugh.

Rashel stopped glaring at Quinn, mostly because John was whispering something into her ear and Timothy's question was registered later on. Quinn's eyes kept flickering back at Timmy.

Please review. I'll post the next chapter later today. :)