BreeTico – I love the idea of being able to "speak" Sign Language. It's so interesting, more than Spanish or French is to me. I know that the majority of colleges offer Sign Language, which I plan on taking. (: Thanks for the review, even though I bothered you about it. Haha! (:
Guest – Thank you! I do think that my deaf character came off better than I thought it would. I am, in fact, planning on continuing it. I absolutely love the Significance series and can't stay away. Plus, it's always nice to write about a love. I have no idea why, but it is. Thanks for the review! (:
AwesomeSauce220 – For one, you have an awesome name. I just have to point that out. Secondly, thank you! As for right now, I intend on continuing to update, but don't blame me if the updates take a little longer than a couple days. (;
The reason I'm updating this right now is because I'm going on a short summer vacation. I already had this written, so I was like, "Why wait?" Anyway, enjoy! (:
The Significance Series belongs to Shelly Crane.
2: Imprint
Why did he return again? He showed up with his band once, and then he showed up alone, claiming to look for new guitars. He hadn't bought anything either time. So what was his reason for being here this time around?
His eyes darted to me the moment he stepped into the room. I couldn't ignore the fact that my heartbeat shot through the roof, pounding against my chest. My hands immediately went a little clammy, my stomach tangling together in a knot of nerves. He looked exactly the same, sort of. His hair was thick and too long, styled in the same fashion with an emo-boy swoop over one eye. His shirt was navy blue with rolled up sleeves and an open neck, revealing a little of his smooth chest. His jeans were just the right amount of tightness, and he wore black boots. On his fingers, there were a series of silver rings and he wore a leather cuff around his wrist. His neck was adorned with thin leather straps. It looked like there was a pendant hanging down from one of them. And his face. Framed by his dark hair, his skin seemed even warmer. His nose was chiseled and straight, his eyebrows a little thick, and a distinct five o' clock shadow on his jaw.
And even though I couldn't see them from this far away, I knew that he had gorgeous green hazel eyes with hints of gold threaded through. They were so expressive, more expressive than any eyes I'd ever seen before. His whole demeanor screamed untouchable and aloof, even a little arrogant, but his eyes said something completely different. You only had to get close enough to see them. And God, I wanted to get close enough to see them again.
He kept walking towards me. His body language said that he was determined, that he had something that he planned on doing, something that he planned on getting done. And honestly, I was a little scared. He was a pretty big guy – tall and fairly broad, big enough that you knew he could hold his own and that he'd probably been in a brawl or two, if not more. But he was also lean and agile-looking, which made him seem more like a fashion model as his gaze met mine.
There they were, those beautiful eyes. My breath caught in my chest, and I felt an awkward smile flutter across my lips. I thought that I saw the corner of his lips turn up, just for a moment, before someone stepped in between him and the counter desk, where I was perched in my chair like I was every day. My heart immediately dropped as I stared at the back of Xavier.
I let out a heavy sigh. Xavier had been a little iffy ever since he walked in and saw Rock Star Wannabe holding me up three days ago. He had continued to bring me something sweet whenever he stopped by the coffee shop, but he hadn't brought me a double chocolate chip cookie since. Yesterday, he'd brought me a lemon tart. That was basically Xavier saying that, while he still cared for me, he wasn't very happy with me. And I couldn't really be all that sure why. So he had walked into the shop right when I slipped and someone utterly handsome caught me. Why was that such a big deal?
Rock Star Wannabe was a few inches taller than Xavier, and I could see his mouth moving, but Xavier's dark hair hid the majority of his chin and lips. I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to see through Xavier, as if I suddenly had the ability to turn on x-ray vision. Finally, I whirled the chair around and stepped out from behind the counter, nearly tripping over a couple of empty boxes that were haphazardly shoved underneath the desk. Neither of them seemed to notice me as I sidled right up to Xavier's side. Rock Star Wannabe's eyes darted to me, and I found myself bursting into a sunny smile. I couldn't remember the last time I'd smiled like that. But I really, really wanted him to like me, even if the only words we'd shared were on whether or not I had injured myself by slipping on a piece of paper.
Xavier looked at me from the corner of his eye, clearly confused that I had gotten up from my seat to mingle with the customers. He knew that I hated standing on the floor. People who didn't know about my story – and there were a lot, we were in Chicago, after all – assumed that I could help them. And I could. If they could sign or if they looked directly at me when the spoke. But that was rare, so I exclusively preferred to spend my time sitting in my chair, clicking away on my computer or reading my book. He knew it, but to his credit, he didn't turn and question me on it right away.
Rock Star Wannabe continued to talk as I stared at his lips. It was hard to translate a whole string of sentences at once, especially when I stepped in at the middle of one. I couldn't tell which was the end and where the beginning was. To let Xavier know that I wanted in on the conversation, I slipped my arm around his elbow. He glanced at me as he answered Rock Star Wannabe, motioning towards the wall that housed guitar accessories. Our customer's eyes darted to me for a second before he turned and headed to where Xavier directed him.
My best friend turned to me and signed his question out. "What's wrong?"
Glancing over at Rock Star Wannabe, I chose to keep this as a sign-only conversation. "Nothing. I just… want to be helpful."
Xavier's eyebrows drew together, because he knew that was a lie. I didn't even have to tell him, so there was no inflection in my voice, and he was still able to tell that I was lying. It was okay. I wouldn't have believed it myself. But I couldn't very well tell him that there was something about the handsome stranger that drew me to him, other than his looks and his arrogant but secretive attitude. "He's looking at guitar accessories." He narrowed his eyes at me and said, "What are you really up to?"
"I can't believe you'd assume I was up to something." I replied with a huff, moving my hands quickly, knowing that I was testing his skills. He knew it, too. I only ever signed that quickly when Xavier was roughly a beginner – he hadn't been signing for much longer than a year – when I was annoyed with him. Or if I was trying to slide past his eagle eyes. The only bad thing was that Xavier knew my tricks. And, he was getting better at reading me despite the speed I was going at.
"Don't turn this around on me. You know that you're acting funny. What's it all about?" He glanced towards the desk where my vacated chair was, where his coffee also happened to be. I knew that he was craving the caffeine in a cup. He usually did when he found himself stressed out.
"I'm just tired of sitting in my chair." I signed, looking at my chair for emphasis. Emily's Butt Only was glaringly noticeable when the chair was empty and alone. Xavier sighed and glanced over at Rock Star Wannabe. I wondered if he knew what I really felt about him. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to occupy the shadow that he casted on the floor. I wanted to be the only one that was allowed to be right next to him.
I had never felt the feeling so strongly before. Actually, I'd never really felt it before. I guess I could say that I'd felt a form of it. When I met people that were my own age, people like Xavier or the kids that were in my group for deaf kids, and I found someone that I liked, I wanted to be noticed by them. But the feeling that coursed through me right then was something that was alien to me. I had never wanted so much from someone else before.
Xavier shook his head, but it was clear that our conversation was over. He turned away from me and leaned against the counter. Wrapping his fingers around the coffee, her took a long drink before turning to look at me pointedly. I let myself take a glance over at Rock Star Wannabe, who was perusing the racks of guitar straps and guitar picks, as well as the packets of strings and cases. He seemed a little stiff, though, as he if wasn't sure what he was doing there. With a slight sigh, and a good round of questioning myself in my head, I returned to my chair behind the counter. Xavier seemed visibly relieved that I had returned to my seat instead of pursuing a conversation with Rock Star Wannabe, who interested me more than anyone had ever interested me before.
I spun back and forth in my chair, ignoring Xavier completely. I wasn't sure why he was bothering me. He just was. I figured that it had to do something with the fact that he was, very obviously, trying to keep me away from Rock Star Wannabe. It wouldn't have bothered me any other time. I knew that I was a little in over my head with whatever emotions were running through me like my veins were a network of highways. But this time, I was on edge about the whole ordeal.
I'm a girl. I get crushes on cute, possibly perfect boys. I daydream about them coming up to me and scooping me up in their arms, becoming my knight in shining armor. But that never happens. And I know why. I have a personality. I've even been told that I have a sarcastic bite. And people have assured me that I was just as beautiful as my mom was when she was younger, nearly an exact copy except that I was a little curvier and my eyes were gray instead of blue. And I knew that I was relatively smart. I had managed to handle high school without any real teachers, just a load of hired tutors.
It was the fact that I was damaged property. When you see a dog at the animal shelter, one that needs extra attention because it's blind or is jumpy or is deaf, would you just continue walking? How many people – especially teenage boys – would stop and choose that one out when it could have another dog that was just as perfect and beautiful that had no problems? I was flawed, and for that, I was going to end up stuck in my mother's house when she refused, yet again, to let me have my own apartment. And nobody that was, by definition, normal would choose me.
I looked up at Xavier. I always thought about how nice he was to me, how easily he had slipped into the status of being my best friend (and maybe something more.) But any relationship that was greater than friendship between us was hidden away to the storage room or darkened porches when he dropped me off at night. I don't think my mom even knew about the fact that Xavier and I had even kissed before. Just thinking about it made me blush when he looked up to meet my gaze. I'd never really defined the relationship with Xavier. Every single kiss we'd shared was just a peck on the lips. And I couldn't even remember the last time we'd kissed.
We just sort of… were. We existed around each other. But we weren't together. And even though I knew that it was technically impossible for me to have that princess fairytale relationship I always dreamed about, I wanted it. And for some reason, it was in my mind that just knowing someone like Rock Star Wannabe would bring me one step closer to it. It was a ridiculous notion, I knew, and it was something that was never ever going to happen.
Xavier caught the corner of my eye. He downed the rest of his coffee and started signing. "I'm going to go grab some food from that Chinese place. You want anything?"
"Orange chicken," I answered out loud, giving him a broad smile despite the fact that I knew he was feeling antsy about leaving me here with Rock Star Wannabe, even though it was only going to be for a few minutes. That irked me, but I couldn't say much about it. He nodded, checked his back pocket for his wallet, and headed for the front door.
My mom was in the back office, where she usually went when Xavier or one of the other employees showed up. The store was small enough that there was only one person needed on the floor, and I was known for being the check-out girl. I didn't have to hear to scan or type in item codes, and I didn't need to hear to make change. When I first started working, I'd folded up a white card and used a thick permanent marker to write "Sorry, I'm deaf. And I work in a music shop. Ironic, isn't it?" My mom had just sighed and shaken her head when I taped it to the top of the counter, but she had taken a let-Emily-do-what-she-wants stance when I reached about fifteen or sixteen. Xavier had shown a surprising amount of dislike for it. I thought it was just funny. And sometimes customers found it funny, too.
Now alone in the shop with Rock Star Wannabe for the first time in three days, I couldn't help but think about him standing there at nook that housed guitar accessories. Interestingly enough, I found myself wondering if he even played the guitar. It was sort of a dumb question, because why else would he be staring at the guitars if he didn't play one? I mean, he was in a band after all. That meant that he could either sing or play an instrument.
After a few more minutes of sitting there and thinking about him, I opened up a game of solitaire on the computer and did my best to focus on the screen. I had actually sort of succeeded with my distraction until I caught his movement out of the corner of my eye. He was heading up to the counter. In his hand there was a single package of guitar picks. I had the feeling that he had come into the store not really needing anything for a guitar. Which meant that he was buying something just so he didn't seem strange or because he really wanted to talk to me. I knew the latter was probably a stretch, but I couldn't help but feel a little burst of joy as he neared.
His eyes seemed focused on me as he set the guitar picks on the counter. I picked it up and scanned it underneath the laser, knowing that it beeped when the number came up on the computer. When I glanced back up, about to deliver his total – three dollars and twenty-six cents – I noticed that he was looking at the card that I had displayed on the counter. And, like very few customers before him, he actually cracked a grin at it. The smile carried over to me.
"Three dollars and twenty-six cents," I told him, trying to keep the trembling out of my voice. How could he do this to me? I had never met someone who managed to make me more awkward than I already was.
He pulled out his wallet, slipping a five dollar bill out. He handed it over the counter to me, and I went to grab it. Thinking that I already had a hold on it, he released it. We both lunged to grab it, and instead of grabbing the dollar bill, our hands found each other's.
The feeling was something that I had never felt before. It seemed that boy managed to pull more out of me than anyone else had. But this was different altogether. My veins seemed like fire and ice were taking turns rushing through them. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose, as if I'd just been hit with static electricity. And then images flooded my brain, vibrantly colored and slightly foggy at the same time.
I could clearly see me in it. My hair looked like it had a slight blue tone from the extreme contrast of the vision, and I was smiling so broadly that I couldn't ever remember having that smile cross my lips before. And I was laughing, and in my mind, I heard it. You wouldn't believe the amount of time I'd spent wondering what my own voice sounded like. The me that was laughing was whisked away, and suddenly I was standing in front of someone. Someone tall and dark, someone that I cared about a lot. I knew instinctively that it was a guy. Large hands with long fingers wrapped around my upper arms, and I had my eyes closed as my chin tilted up for a kiss. Before I could feel the pressure of lips against mine, I was introduced to a sunny sky that was so bright it temporarily blinded me. And I heard my name being called out to me by a deep, slightly rough voice that made my heart pound a little faster. I started to turn around, but before I could see who was calling me, I was whirled away to another vision. I had a feeling that it would be the last. I was wearing a red dress that draped across my body and had an asymmetrical hem. I wasn't wearing any shoes, but instead was relishing the feeling of soft grass between my toes. Someone leaned forward to whisper in my ear, and I heard, clear as day, "You're perfect."
Just as quickly as they had begun, the visions retracted, and I was sitting in my usual chair behind the counter of my mom's store. I was no longer outdoors, smelling summer or wearing a beautiful dress that had the softest fabric I had ever felt before. My fingers were still gripped in Rock Star Wannabe's, but instead of just an accidental embrace, his fingers were tight on mine, as if there was some purpose behind them. I gasped at the feeling that coursed through me. It was a calmness that centered on me, a feeling that, once again, I hadn't felt in a long time. I had never been this… peaceful.
Rock Star Wannabe let go of my hand briefly, and the moment he did my heart started beating a little faster in my chest. He took a brief step back, looking down at his hands and then touching the left side of his chest. And then he looked up at me, his eyes ablaze with something that I couldn't really understand. He rushed around the desk, which shocked me. Nobody had ever come behind the desk except for employees. It was just something that was not done.
He dropped into a crouch next to me. He looked around and reached for the printer, pulling out a blank sheet of computer paper. His eyes scanned the desk and he reached for a pen, uncapping it before scribbling something down on the page. He wrote for a minute or two, my gaze darting to the front door because I knew that if Xavier walked in the door, he wouldn't hesitate to escort this guy out. He pushed the paper over to me, and I picked it up, my eyes scanning over his spiky, slanted writing.
I don't really know how to start this. This will seem a little insane to you, but I just ask that you think about the visions that I know you saw and the feelings that you are feeling right now, especially the calmness that you feel whenever I touch you. This will seem like an information overload, I know, but it's the only way you can know what exactly is going on.
My name is Derek Stanton. I am like you, just a little different. I am part of a race of humans that are gifted by the supernatural. We are called Virtuoso, or Charmed. We call ourselves Aces. I know, you think I'm insane this very second, but hear me out.
Aces are given their powers by ascending into their abilities. To ascend, they find their soul mate. To find their soul mate, they imprint on someone who is the perfect person for them in body and soul. It's triggered by a touch, and when you imprint, you see visions of your future together. It's a deal that sealed forever. It's not a mistake, and it can't be broken. It's meant to be. It's the reason we Aces live.
And that's just what we did. We imprinted. It means that you are perfect for me and I am perfect for you. I know that you're thinking that I'm just some insane stalker dude, but I'm going to be honest with you. We are soul mates, and we belong together. Without each other, we will feel a pain that is unlike any other. We call them withdrawals, since we are very literally withdrawing from each other. We need each other to survive. In other words, I need you to survive, and you need me.
My eyes scanned the page. My heartbeat started pounding a million miles a minute. What kind of drug was this guy smoking? I glanced over at him out of the corner of my eye as I slowly started to push my chair away. Could the guy turn out to be violent? Was he so high that he had decided to stalk me? As I thought the words, my eyes returned to his first paragraph. There was no way that I could fend off the visions that I'd seen. I had seen them. Unless breathing the same air as him made me a little loopy, then he wasn't lying about that. He could've been lying about the other stuff.
And just as I was thinking that, I noticed that he was slowly reaching out for me. I shoved away from him so hard that the chair crashed into the pile of boxes that I still had not moved. He put both hands up for a moment, his eyes begging me to just let him explain. He held out a hand, waiting for me to drop my hand into his upturned palm. I stared into his eyes, noticing the bright color in them, and I felt any fear that had grown in my stomach crumble. With a slightly shaky hand, I let my fingers brush his palm. His eyes closed momentarily as an intense calm washed through me, erasing my anxiety. He couldn't make me feel anything. The emotions that coursed through me, as well as the visions, were all mine.
Which meant that he was not lying. In that paragraph, anyway. The rest of it could have been made up. Soul mates, really?
"I… I don't know whether or not to believe you." I told him.
He bowed his head over our hands, which seemed to mold together perfectly. He looked up at me, and said, his mouth forming the words very precisely. "You'll just have to trust me."
What do you think of this second chapter? I mean, I find it a little hard to write the imprinting part every time. It's something that I (obviously) haven't felt before, so I'm not exactly sure how a girl would handle the situation. I don't want her to trust blindly, but hey. I'll figure something out for the next chapter, I'm sure.
Please take a minute or two to leave me a review in the box below. Thanks for reading! Peace (: