OMEGA (Under Rewrite)

Chapter 10 - Uncomfortable tension

Chapter 10 - Uncomfortable tension...

Lucy's POV

As we sit at mine and Beck's usual booth in the back of the pub (the best positioned booth in the whole place, as it allows us to keep an eye on the door), I can't help but notice a growing tension between Beck and Justin.

The old dark red booth is situated right in the corner, in the shape of a horse-shoe, and our current seating arrangement is: David and Wayne are sat in the very middle of the booth, with Devon sat next to Wayne and Dean sat opposite him. Then there's Justin who, somehow, has found himself sat next to me, in between both me and Dean. Beck and I sit opposite each other on either end of the booth, waiting for our first possible informant to walk into the pub. I have my back to the door, but from here I have a perfect view of the bar so, as Beck glances at the door every time someone new walks in, I glance at the bar every time someone new goes up. It's the perfect strategy, and one we've been using for years now.

At the minute, however, Beck's eyes aren't on the door, they're locked onto Justin's as they both seemingly have a silent stare-off.

If anyone else at the booth notices the uncomfortable tension between the two, they don't comment on it as they all seem to be having their own hushed conversations between themselves.

I clear my throat and, almost immediately, both sets of eyes focus on me.

What the hell is going on...?

The fact that I'm sat next to Justin doesn't help ease the situation in my head either, as it means I have the constant rich scent of apple and cinnamon overpowering every other smell in the dingy old bar. As a result, my head is slowly starting to spin, my thoughts becoming less coherent as I struggle to think of a decent topic for conversation.

Shouldn't his scent not be affecting me as much anymore...?

"So... is it just Graham and Jeff that I'm looking out for?" I ask, knowing fully well that it always works better if I go after the guys and Beck goes for the girls. The power of flirting can be a wonderful thing.

"That I know of," Beck replies. "If it turns out that they do know something then try and find out who else might be able to help." I nod.

After that, some of the tension seemingly eases, and I spend the next ten minutes just talking and laughing with Beck like usual, like we're not in the middle of an actual mission right now.

Suddenly, Beck straightens up and I immediately recognise the look in his eyes.

"You're up, Shorty," he says, his excitement from earlier resurfacing.

I don't turn around to look at the door, deciding to wait for whoever it is to reach the bar, and watch as none other than Graham Winter walks over to Maggie (the owner of the pub) and orders a pint.

"Wish me luck," I murmur to Beck with a slight grin as I stand.

"Pfft. Like you need it," he replies, his grin mirroring my own. "Oh, and Shorty?"

"Yeah?" I ask, spinning back around to look at him.

"Make me proud," he half whispers with a wink. I chuckle and roll my eyes, giving him a mock salute and throwing the others one last glance before making my way over to Graham.

Graham Winter is a strange character in his own right. He's somewhere in his late thirties, with long dirty blonde hair that is always tied back with an elastic band, a few scars due to random fights he's been in over the years, and an extremely strong country accent.
He's one of the very few humans that actually know about werewolves, and he seems to have made it his mission in life to date one. Although, 'date' is a bit of a strong word if you get my drift, which is why no female werewolf has ever given him the time of day. He's not after anything serious, just a bit of fun, whilst most werewolves want to just find their mate and settle down.
Anyway, let's just say it's safe to say that he's ecstatic whenever Beck brings me around. Despite the fact that he knows it'll never happen, he never gives up.