The Skylar Experiment : Beginnings

Chapter Seventeen - Deal

I WOKE UP CURSING. Sunlight hit my face and I couldn't find sleep again. I twisted into different positions all I could, nothing did it for me.

I got up with a frustrated sigh and closed the curtains, tried again, but this time something else stopped me. The memories of yesterday flooded my mind at full speed. I pulled my arm out from under the covers and checked the scar. It didn't change much, except the swelling had diminished and the skin was more pink than red.

I thought about Dad, and if he was okay. He had to be. Luc wouldn't have let me sleep through the night if he'd received bad news. He'd let me know, right?

I stared at the guest room. I'd fallen asleep in the living room and not here.

I doubted mutants could teleport objects.

I headed downstairs, and he was exactly in the same spot as before. Sprawled over the sofa, chest rising and falling as he breathed, he reminded me of a jungle cat dozing off. I didn't mean to, but my gaze hooked on the seizing amount of taut muscle he had, from the broad shoulders all the way down to the abs peeking through the fabric.

I was a total creeper.

I didn't want to wake him, so I forcefully drew my attention elsewhere. It looked like a beautiful autumn morning outside. Morning dew dripped onto the porch from the parapet.

My eyes trailed the living room curiously, moving from the coffee table with leftover Maltesers and the shelf on the corner to the TV. I searched for something to read, but the room seemed vacant of such an object. My gaze wended to the shelf, on a framed picture resting in front of a DVD collection. I tiptoed my way to it until I was close enough to look at the two people smiling inside.

I recognized Luc on the left. He grinned lazily, a hand in his pocket, an arm wrapped around a girl's shoulders. It wasn't an old picture. I'd give it a year, maybe two.

The girl... for some reason, she looked familiar. She was stunning. Straight, dark brown hair cascaded over her beaming face. Emerald eyes as equally striking as Luc's peered into the camera, lashes curling up until they reached underneath her eyebrows. She leaned onto Luc.

The both of them stood on a freakishly tall cliff, right near the edge, but it didn't seem to bother them.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I jumped and turned around. Luc had risen from the sofa, brows shooting up. Color had returned to his cheeks and eyes, making him look less washed up than yesterday.

"Jesus, you scared me..."

He motioned at the photo. "Did no one ever teach you not to snoop around?"

"It's hardly snooping around. It wasn't like it was hidden or anything."

He looked like he wanted to say something, then rubbed a hand through his chaotic tousles. Somehow, it didn't rob him of his unnerving appeal.

"Is that your sister?" I risked, thinking it wasn't too big of a question.

"Yeah," he answered stiffly and stalked toward the kitchen.

I followed Luc as he began rummaging through drawers.

"You like French toast with hot chocolate?"

I momentarily forgot the question burning my tongue, taken aback by the hasty change of subject. He already pulled out the bread, the utensils, and the butter. It was captivating to see him doing domestic tasks. I pictured him to be more the type to have people get things done.