Chapter 2

            "Ciara….."

Ciara opened her eyes slowly….she was sweltering under the thick comforter and kicked it off the bed as she sat up. She could swear that she had heard a voice. It was breathy and dare she say, "sexy?" she grinned at this. It was just her imagination of course….

""Hey Kira" she sighed at the use of her nickname.

"Xander?"

"Yeah."

            This was an old custom of theirs. Her being the "disturbed and depressed" teen that she used to be, Xander used to climb through her window at night to comfort her. He never minded of course. His own house was the epitome of hell and he never skipped an opportunity to escape.  But now…..she was older…he was older…it just wasn't normal anymore.

 "What are you doing here at this time of night? Don't you have any consideration for sleeping people?"

            She grinned again, but quickly grew somber at the thought of the one thing she had been dwelling on.

"Oh, and where the fuck have you been for the past three years?"

            Yeah, one day he just disappeared. She figured the he must've run away. She had thought it was odd though, how he never told her that he was leaving. She felt hurt, betrayed even. He had abandoned her in the most turbulent years of her life. He was her confidante, her best friend….and friends just don't disappear without warning.

            She survived without him, obviously; though it hadn't been easy. She was a loner; her parents didn't understand her – what parents do? – and her teachers insisted on her participation in all social events. Yep, the highlight of her high school career was providing manual labor for the "Under the Sea" dance….pathetic.  Damn, high school was like the prisons of hell.

Observing from a distance, she noted that he had changed since she had last seen him.

"My god..."

            She backed away with her hand against her mouth. Complete shock was overwhelming her. Oh yes, he had changed alright. His hair was still black – so similar to hers. But his eyes, they were….wrong. The gold specks in his gray eyes did not hold the warmth that they once used to. Instead they were a dark grey flecked with black. For a minute, she thought that she had seen them transform completely to black, but that's just silly. Of course, isn't it true that the details one overlooks turn out to be the most important?