Okay I looked at the story, and there will be a total of 12 chapters. It's much shorter than my last one, and much simpler. It sticks almost strictly to the two main characters, Lizzy and Paul. Any criticisms would be welcome!

Thanks to Guest for reviewing! 3

Paul's POV

I search for that girl every day after that, but I never found her. I even asked around about her, but no one had any clue who I was talking about which is complete bull shit. I mean, you can't get any more inconspicuous than a glowing girl in 70's garb walking down the street.

Two weeks later I finally see her again. She was sitting on a bench, her legs crossed daintily at the knee.

"Hello." It's the first thing that pops into my head. Her face conveys confusion, and she turns to look on the other side of the bench that remains empty and then back to me. When her eyes look into mine, I stare back in shock. They're the green-ist eyes I've ever seen, the color a lighter shade than I'm used to. Usually green eyes look brown at first, but with her there's no doubt of their color.

"Do you see me?" Her head moves slightly forward in question. I arch an eyebrow, staring at her as if she's crazy.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be able to see you?" Her jaw drops and this time when she looks at me, she seems to really look at me. Taking in all my features in a panic as if time were rushed and she'd never see me again, which may be likely based on how hard it is to find her.

"No reason." She turns away to stare out at the ocean, bringing a leg up and leaning her chin on her knee as the other stays slightly dangling from the sandy floor.

"Aren't you cold?" It's a bit windy out today, and most people have fall jackets on. I don't of course, my body stays at a steamy 108 degrees, but I'm an exception.

"Not at all." She doesn't look cold either, she's relaxed if anything.

"Why are you so surprised I can see you?"

Her face tightens, before going back to her calm expression. "Most people can't see me is all."

I stare at her blankly. How can people not see her? Everything about her is startling, from her eyes to the faint way she glows; her chosen clothes to her hair style. Everything is eye catching.

"I find that hard to believe." If I didn't know me better, I'd say I was flirting. But Paul Lahote does not flirt, he goes straight for the kill.

A small smile graces her face and she turns her head slightly towards mine and closes her eyes with a peaceful look.

"Do you live around here?"

Her eyes slightly open at the question, giving me a lazy look that somehow comes of sultry. My lower region twitches in interest and I turn away, attempting to get that last expression out of my head.

"In a way."

I frown, watching as the waves fitfully smash onto the sand. "Do you always speak in riddles?"

"I don't mean to."

I grumble, annoyed with myself that I actually care about her answer. "If you don't want to tell me, then just say that." I sound like a pouty child unable to get his way much to my chagrin.

"It's not like that," she denies. I suddenly get drawn into her accent. She perfectly pronounces every word, not slurring together one syllable. I've never heard a person talk like that before. The barrage of questions starts up again.

"Where are you from?"

"New York."

"New York City?"

"No, just New York."

"Do you still live there?"

Her bottom lip tightens and a melancholy look builds across her face. "No, I haven't lived there in a long time," she finally answers.

"What brings you all the way out here?" I hastily ask, hoping to get that sad look off her face. It works. There's a mischievous curl to her lip when she answers me, her eyes silently laughing.

"Traveling, you could call me a wanderer."

"How old are you?" I can tell she's confused by my question, as if unsure of the answer. Her lips silently mouth something, as if working out a difficult math question.

"I am… sixteen." The words sound foreign to her lips.

"Why do you glimmer?" It's the last question I plan to ask, and the one that I'm the most curious about.

Immediately she shuts down, her face becoming a blank mask with no emotion. "Why do you not glimmer?" she debates. Her answer leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and the surly look I usually have on my face appears.

"Because I'm normal," I spit out in annoyance.

"Perhaps you are not. Maybe everyone glows and you're only noticing now."

"That's bullshit." My language makes her jump, and she indiscreetly puts more space between us.

"Maybe, maybe not." It's all she says before she leaves. When she's out of ear shot I growl in frustration, slumping my shoulders unhappily. I turn to look at the place she was just sitting, and notice a tiny silver wolf where she sat. I blink in surprise, before picking it up.

It looks old, older than me probably. The eyes of the wolf have a knowing look, as if gloating. I grumble to myself, ignoring my vivid imagination. I suddenly remember a flash of light hitting her wrist and realize it's probably part of her bracelet, a charm maybe. I turn to look for her, hoping to catch her before she disappears, but see nothing. My stomach drops when I survey the area she walked across for hints of her whereabouts.

She left no footprints in the sand.