Chapter Six

Follow (v.): To understand the meaning of

Two decades later

He had been sitting not ten feet from her for about an hour now, and she had failed to look his way once. His fingers drummed along the bar's counter top as he mentally debated whether or not to get her attention. It had been twenty years, twenty years of absolutely no contact between the two. No phone calls, no letters or emails, no nothing. He exhaled slowly, and his eyes darted over towards her once again.

Her back was towards him, in a way it always had been, and she was sitting at a table with another man, fake laughing and falsely enjoying her somewhat dinner. From the brief side glances he had been allowed, she did not appear to have aged at all, still the same seventeen year old girl he remembered. From her youth, Tymmie had deducted that the rumors were true, that Cassandra had been accepted back into the Atrox's congregation. He hadn't believed it at first, as his information had been coming from a rather unreliable Infidi spy, but now that it was in the flesh he found his breath catching as he saw her toss back her long, perfect, maroon hair over the bare shoulder of her backless black dress. The man across from her was obviously one of her latest toys, she always did enjoy tormenting the ones with money, the suit, tie, and constant blushing of the boy was a dead giveaway. He probably meant nothing to her, or at least Tymmie tried to convince himself of such.

Finding her here had been pure coincidence, truly it was. Tymmie wouldn't actually keep tabs on someone for twenty years and then actually track her down because he missed her. That would be ridiculous. He was Lambert Malmaris's main man, the best telepath the Atrox had to offer aside from Stanton, he didn't need anyone.

He just…really wanted to see her again.

Tymmie silently ordered a shot from the bartender behind the counter, and downed it in milliseconds. And another, and another. By about his fifth one, he had no problem spilling out the deepest secrets of his faintly beating heart to the overweight and balding man who looked quite frankly uninterested. "See that girl over there," He said, slightly slurred, as he leaned forward, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, "I think I love her."

The bartender raised a bushy brow and followed the strange young man's thumb, his eyes landing on a pretty girl with maroon hair. A pretty girl with maroon hair that was currently on a date. He looked back at the kid, "Want another shot?"

He nodded, "At least three more."

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"You look great tonight," The boy across from her said for about the fifth time, "Did I say that already?" He commented awkwardly, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Five times you jackass, "I never get tired of hearing it," She said, falsely smiling and covering his clammy hand with her own.

The boy's uptight resolve faded a bit and he gave her an incredibly nervous smile of his own, "Do you like the necklace?" He tried again.

Cassandra fingered the diamond around her neck, "Yes, thanks."

The two sat in silence, one about to have an aneurysm due to the stress of sitting across from such an attractive girl, the other wishing she was anywhere but there as she began to drum her fingers across the table. The two were spared the increasing awkwardness when the waiter arrived with their food. The waiter gave Cassandra a discreet and flirtatious grin, but for once Cassandra didn't feel like returning the pass with a coy smirk of her own. She really just felt like going home tonight.

As the boy across from her began to chew vigorously on his steak, she took a moment to observe him and to try and figure out why she was even bothering with this kid. His hair was platinum blonde, looking almost bleached, he had a slightly long and skinny nose, his eyes were green, but there was the tinniest flicks of gray in them. She sighed, and began to take a sip of the expensive wine that the boy had paid for. She truly was disappointed that the boy's eyes weren't gray.

"Cassandra? Are you alright, you seemed distracted," The boy's voice came, interrupting her thoughts.

She jerked to attention, "Sorry, Tymmie-"

The boy's eyes narrowed, and he looked a bit crestfallen, "It's Tommy."

She flushed ten shades of red when she discovered her mistake, "I'm sorry, Tommy, I must really be out of it," Again another smile, and she gave him a little mental persuasion, hoping to dissolve the distrust that had accumulated.

"It's alright," A pause, "Would you like to come over after dinner?"

Cassandra inwardly rolled her eyes and automatically knew what this Tommy wanted from her, it was to be expected after all, the guy had just given her a D-flawless pendant. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to go through with anything, just a little mental nudge into unconsciousness and she could walk away scot-free, with his bank account number, "Sure, just let me-"

Her response was cut off as a loud crash reverberated throughout the restaurant. Cassandra wheeled around and her eyes widened in shock when she saw someone who looked incredibly familiar scrambling to climb back up on his barstool. "Tymmie?" She whispered, not quite believing.

"It's Tommy-" The boy behind her was ignored as Cassandra immediately bolted out of her seat and walked with as much dignity as possible over to the inebriated man.

Her eyes widened when she was close enough to fully observe him. His hair, in slight disarray from the fall, had grown out to its natural dark brown color. Most of his facial piercings were in, with a few new ones on his eyebrows, and he was still clad in his constant all black. When his cold, gray, eyes met with hers she felt her heart stop, and then ache when he gave her a drunken smile.

"Hey Cassie," He muttered, obviously out of it, and Cassandra knew it had to have been strong alcohol to keep an Immortal intoxicated for such a duration of time, "Long time no see…"

Cassandra just stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react at the situation of seeing Tymmie again after twenty years, when he leaned over, and put his arm around her shoulders like he always used to do. "Missed you," He whispered into her ear, his breath hot.

It was then, that Cassandra did the only thing that she could think of to do.

She spun around Tymmie's arm, and gave him a solid punch to the face.

When Tymmie's head rocked back, causing him to fall once more off of the barstool, Cassandra stood above him, a hand on her hip and her arms akimbo, "Do not touch me," She said coolly, then as an afterthought, "And never call me Cassie."

Tymmie looked up at the fiery girl, and as a wave of nostalgia crashed over him, he gave a smile and muttered, "Of course not, darling." Before passing out.

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When Tymmie finally came to, he was surprised to find himself lying comfortably on an obviously plush leather sofa. Even more surprised to find an iced bag of stir-fry across his forehead. Slowly, he shifted his weight, groaning as the effects of his drinking and her punch faded with an immortal speed. His eyes widened when he remembered who had punched her, "Cass-"

"You comfortable?" Came the saucy voice he could admit he loved from across the room, where there sat Cassandra, a worn out paperback in her hands as she observed her companion from over the edge.

Tymmie smiled and fingered the cold bag of food that had fallen off of his forehead, "What's with the stir-fry?" He questioned.

Cassandra shrugged, pretending to flip a page and continue reading. Tymmie knew she was faking, as she had the book upside down in her hands, "You needed something cold to reduce the swelling, I needed my dinner thawed out. It was a win-win situation."

Tymmie felt the tinniest of frowns pulling at the corners of his mouth, "Weren't you having dinner with that asshole earlier?"

Cassandra seemed to be having the same problem with the urge to frown, "Almost, and it would have been a nice and expensive dinner, but some bastard had to fall off of a stool and ruin it." She flipped another page, this time with much gusto, "So now I'm stuck eating the stir-fry I unthawed on said bastard's head."

Silence reigned, and Tymmie's gaze was locked on the girl in front of him. Same hair, same mouth, same lovely, long legs, but there was something off about her. It took a few minutes for him to realize that it was her eyes, they had been once sparkling with naivety and puppy love, but now they appeared weathered and matured. Tymmie wasn't quite sure which one he favored yet.

"Stop it," Cassandra muttered, her voice mumbled.

"Stop what?" Tymmie teased, enjoying this game.

"What you're doing."

"And what is it I'm doing?"

"Staring, it's annoying and I'm trying to read damn it." She retorted.

Tymmie's trademark smirk spread across his features, for once reaching his eyes, "Cassandra, your book is upside down."

Her response to this, as it almost always was when she had a book in her hands, was to chuck it at his head. However, Tymmie this time was not able to duck it and it hit him on the nose, right where Cassandra had punched him earlier. He hissed, and his hand shot up to soothe the throbbing, "You can be a real bitch," He muttered.

Her eyes narrowed, but instead of the angry retort he had been expecting, there was a soft and hesitant question, "Why were you there?"

"Where?" Tymmie asked, faux innocence dripping from his tone.

"Don't play cute-"

"So you think I'm cute?"

"You know where!"

Tymmie sighed, and slumped back against the couch, before countering her question with another question, "Why did you bring me back to your place?"

"Because I punched you, answer my question." Her words were as direct and blunt as they had ever been and he let out a laugh, at the look of her frosty gaze the mirth died in his throat to be replaced with something Tymmie hadn't experienced in a long time, embarrassment.

"I…heard a rumor." Tymmie began.

"A rumor." Cassandra repeated, obviously not amused.

"I heard you had rejoined the Atrox, and I was curious," Tymmie continued, hoping she wouldn't see through the lie.

"That happened seventeen years ago, Tymmie, try again."

Damn.

"I've…been busy."

"With Infidi? Bullshit."

"Why do I need a motive to come and see you?" Tymmie argued back, beginning to get angry.

"Maybe because it's been TWENTY years!" She hollered back standing up, her fists clenching, "And the last time I did see you, you left me to join Lambert!"

Tymmie snorted, "I left you?" His eyes narrowed, "Cassandra, you didn't even see me to begin with!"

"What the hell are you talking about!" Her face had flushed with red, as had his, he was sure.

"I wasn't Stanton," The name sounded like a curse, "And guess what Cassandra, I'm still not!"

At his name, the name of the once center of her universe, Cassandra recoiled like she had been slapped. Tears began to brim in her eyes as she struggled to balance both the infinite regret and the wrathful emotions that were tearing her up inside, "I didn't want you to be Stanton," She whispered, the solemn side of her defeating the anger as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking vulnerable and scared. A humorless chuckle escaped her lips, "And guess what, Tymmie, I still don't."

His granite eyes widened slightly, but he was still fearful to take the plunge, "What do you mean by that?"

She shrugged, absently, and turned away from him, "Never mind, just go back home Tymmie."

His arm grabbed her bicep a little more forcibly than he had intended, but she didn't make a sound of protest, "Don't ignore me Cassandra."

A sigh, followed by, "Why did you leave?"

Tymmie's eyebrows knit together, "I had to."

"That doesn't answer anything."

He cleared his throat and shifted, "Because, I hated him."

A pause.

"…And, I hated the way you looked at him."

Silence reigned as Cassandra absently mulled this over, before nodding in agreement, "I hated the way he looked at her. That's why I was Outcasted," She admitted, more to herself than to him. She turned towards him, confusion in her weathered eyes, that Tymmie now decided he liked more than her naivety, "But after a while, I stopped caring that he looked at her…" Her voice trailed off and Tymmie felt his throat tighten, "Because I started looking at you."

Then there was quiet, the only sound in the unlit apartment a pair of frantically beating hearts, "What is this?" Tymmie finally croaked out, his forehead leaning down to rest on hers.

She closed her eyes in contemplation, "I don't know."

A finger found its way to underneath her chin, and Tymmie lifted her face up, so their eyes made contact, "I missed you," He stated, the closest thing to a confession either of them would make.

She licked her lips nervously, and Tymmie's eyes followed the action, "Good." She muttered, before she grabbed his collar and pulled his face down those few inches, so their lips made contact.

In that moment, he understood.

And in that moment, she stopped her following, as the only person she wanted to catch up with was now standing right next to her.

-Finis.

Yes, it's an open ending, I had intended it to be that way, as most relationships don't have a clear-cut ending and beginning. My thanks to all the readers, especially LovelyPriestess!

!nym!