✓ Chaos Theory | Diego Hargreeves [1]

【CHAPTER FOUR】

—chapter four.

  ❛ more than just anger issues, you know ❜  

ELODIE HAD TWO PROBLEMS THAT SATURDAY MORNING. One more immediate, and the other the type to slowly drive her insane over the slower pace of the day.

Firstly, she had no food in her house. That was upsetting because, in the morning, she was more of a ravenous beast than human and needed at least some sort of nutrition to start the morning. All she had, though, were condiments and tea, and neither would fuel her enough to live through the morning. And so, she was forced to walk down to the corner store  and buy the cheapest, worst breakfast sandwich someone could buy. It was dry, flavourless and cooked straight to the bone, and it was disgusting - but what other options did she have, save for energy drinks and marshmallows?

It was a bad way to start the morning, to say the least.

The second issue of hers sat with a very, very strange man named Diego Whatever-His-Last-Name-Was. There were a lot of sub-issues that revolved around him, to be sure, but the largest was that she had absolutely no clue who he was...and no idea how she was going to figure any of it out.

The only times she had seen him was at the bar, with limited conversation airspace, and then when he was saving her life just the last night. Two contrasting events and yet the limited information from both played the same - he was a weird, semi-assholic man with an affinity for knives and a tendency to play on the stupidly-mysterious side of things.

 At Wallow's, well it was not like she could just drop everything and interrogate him. He was a customer, after all, no matter how curious she got she had to mind some manners. They had chatted in between her 'cleaning up'. But that hadn't said a thing about him. He was annoying, she knew that, but irritation and a weird scar didn't just spell out a backstory, did it?

And the other night was no time to play detective. For reasons she didn't want to think about.

Elodie grimaced. Despite all she had told herself, her mind had immediately raced back to the other night and played the events like she was one record short of a good time. How could she have been so stupid? She knew the streets, and she knew always to be on her game, and yet she had practically waltzed her way to the butt of the gun. If the mysterious 'Diego' had not been there...