Beguile

12 Hate and a bit of suggestion

I looked at the chocolate drink in my hand.

The steam rising from the hot liquid curled in the air, its warmth radiating through the mug.

I stared at it, thinking that if it were laced with something, the powder would have already dissolved, leaving no trace.

Elise sat beside me, stretching out her arms in a relaxed manner. "I'm stuffed," she said, patting her belly with a satisfied grin.

I moved closer, my voice low and cautious. "Did the food taste okay to you? Anything... different?"

"It was delicious," she replied.

I glanced around, ensuring Lucas and Kurt were far enough away, then inched even closer to Elise.

"Do you think there's something different about Lucas or Kurt? In their behavior, I mean," I whispered.

Elise frowned, puzzled by the question. "Lucas is still stupid, and Kurt is still intimidating. Nothing's really changed. Why?"

I shook my head, struggling to make sense of it all. "Nothing," I muttered.

She eyed the mug in my hands. "Are you going to drink that?" she asked, reaching for it before I could respond. My eyes widened as she took a sip.

"Elle, wait!" I tried to grab the mug back, but it slipped from her hands and fell to the floor, shattering with a loud crash.

The noise was deafening, and within moments, Kurt and Lucas appeared, their expressions alert and concerned.

"You again," Kurt said, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the shattered mug.

She let out a small "eek," hiding behind me. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Lucas chuckled, waving off the tension. "It's fine, just a mistake." He approached us, his eyes lingering on me before he turned to Elise. He patted her head, a teasing grin on his face. "You really are something, Elle."

She tried to push his hand away, her cheeks flushing. "I don't want to see your stupid face," she muttered.

Lucas laughed. "With that loud mouth of yours, no wonder everyone thinks you're a guy."

Elise flailed her hands, pretending to punch him. Lucas chuckled, unfazed, as if her punches were merely playful taps.

Kurt appeared behind Lucas, causing Elise to stop abruptly and run off. Kurt followed her, grumbling, "You're a pain in the ass even when we're on death's door."

Lucas crouched down, starting to pick up the shards of the broken mug. I watched him, my eyes tracing the familiar lines of his dark brown hair. It felt different now, seeing him like this after everything.

He glanced up at me, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Could you help me out here?" he asked, then added with a wink, "Or are you planning to stand there all day and admire me?"

I didn't have a choice but to crouch down and start picking up the shards too.

The wind was seeping through the cracks in the window, and the chill made the room feel even more desolate.

As I reached for a particularly sharp piece, a sudden gust knocked over a plastic vase. It fell, shattering and causing me to prick my finger on one of the shards.

"Ow," I hissed, pulling my hand back.

Lucas's demeanor shifted instantly. He was at my side in a flash, gently taking my hand in his. "Let me see," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

He examined my finger, his touch tender as he inspected the small cut. His eyes were focused, the playfulness replaced by an earnest care. The sincerity in his expression was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, it was easy to forget everything that had happened. In this small, fleeting moment, he was the Lucas I had always known—the kind, attentive friend who would always be there when I needed him.

"It doesn't look too bad," he said, his thumb brushing lightly over the spot next to the cut. "But we should clean it up, just to be safe."

He led me to the sink. It was fortunate that despite everything that had happened, the water still ran. As he turned the faucet, he commented, "It won't last."

I nodded, thinking about how the hunt would become more exciting as everyone grew desperate for food and water. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down my spine.

Lucas's touch was incredibly gentle as he washed my finger, his hands moving with a practiced ease. His eyes, filled with genuine concern, were focused entirely on the small cut. It was such a minor injury, yet he treated it with the utmost care, as if it were something much more serious.

Taking a deep breath, I gathered the courage to ask, "Do you hate me?"

Lucas paused, his expression shifting to one of confusion and concern. "Why would I hate you?"

"For seeing something I shouldn't," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the running water.

A small laugh escaped his lips, a charming sound that seemed to lighten the air around us. It was as if what I had said was genuinely amusing to him. He looked at me, a playful glint in his eyes. "Do you want me to hate you?"

I shook my head, unable to find my voice.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you hate us?"

Again, I shook my head, more vigorously this time.

His grip on my hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over my skin in a soothing motion. He leaned in closer, the space between us narrowing until the only thing I could focus on was the nearness of his lips. The sound of the dripping water from the faucet grew deafening, each drop echoing in my ears like a drumbeat.

"Do you want to join us?" he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

A blush crept up my cheeks, my heart pounding in my chest. I stammered, words failing me as I tried to process his question. The proximity, the intensity in his gaze, the implications of his words—it was all too much.

He pulled back slightly, a smile playing on his lips.

His laugh, that same charming sound, filled the space between us again. "You don't have to answer now," he said softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just think about it."