Salvage: Book 3 of the Magic Mutations Series

26: Lukas

December, 2018

I stood out the front of the British Museum waiting for her as wisps of freezing wind whipped my face.

Two minutes had passed the time we had agreed to meet, and I was already growing anxious that she had changed her mind.

Because obviously she would. She probably would have remembered everything I told her about my past and decided I wasn't worth the effort. And I couldn't hold it against her... I'd run from me too if I could.

Though just as I worked myself into a self-doubting spiral about how she wouldn't show up, a voice calling out, "Lukas!" caught my attention.

Head quickly lifting, my gaze sought out the figure to the voice, and a smile was quick to steal my face as her brown locks and bronze skin filled my vision.

"Hey," she said when she had neared, seemingly a little breathless.

"Hey yourself," I replied, eyes wandering over her, taking in every inch in disbelief that I was really seeing her again. I hated that, even a week after our evening together and from the attempt to move on, here I was still finding signs of her in Emma.

"Should we head in?" she asked, the light disappearing slightly from her eyes as she evidently saw the turmoil in mine.

Shaking the memories of her from my mind, I nodded and turned up the steps, heading towards the museum doors.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

May, 2019

When my eyes flickered open the next morning after Emma's medical dilemma with the Mades, it didn't take long for the dread to take hold of me again.

I missed Emma.

I didn't think I'd let myself miss someone this much again, but I did. So much so, I was dreaming of the memories of us and succumbing to our past in the fear I had done something to lose this. Because I always messed everything up somehow.

It's because, after all this time, you still haven't let her stop clouding your thoughts, you idiot, I told myself.

Reaching for my phone to check the time, the last thing I expected was a message icon to be adorning my homescreen.

Sitting up in haste, I tried to convince myself it was probably spam or something.

But after clicking the message, there was her reply, right under my message from last night.

Me: I hope you got home okay and that you've healed. I miss you and I'm thinking about you. Sent at 9:38pm.

Emma: Can you come see me this afternoon? Received at 7:02am.

I took no time to respond. Thumbs flying over the screen, I shot back a message, hoping I wasn't too late for the offer.

Me: Sure. Where?

It was 11am. She'd probably be at school by now. But it was lunch time. So how long would it take her—

A message pinged through.

Emma: My place. We need to talk.

That phrase never sounded great, but I brushed it aside, telling myself it wasn't wrong. We did need to talk. For some reason there had been distance between us, and I'd do anything to right it.

Me: We should. I'll be there once school is out.

I waited a few moments for her to acknowledge my message. But it never came. So, instead of stewing, I got up and went to the bathroom, ready to start my day and prepare myself for this chat.