Born Immortal

Born Immortal Chapter 2

Astyr Tyr was losing her patience. The boy in the seat beside her had a hold of her wrist and wouldn't let go. He was studying the carving on her silver bracelet, the bracelet that she had been found with when she was a newborn, abandoned on the side of the road. Her bracelet had a woman on one side with a spear in one hand and a shield in the other and with an ornate crown atop her head of long flowing hair. On the other side was engraved only her name, Astyr Tyr. This small piece of silver was the only clue that Astyr had to who she was. She had no idea what it meant, but it was hers, it was her, and it was all she had. And the dark haired guy next to her was holding on to her like it was a matter of life and death. Astyr felt threatened and she wanted him away from her bracelet. She was really mad and so she looked up into his eyes to tell him so.  

The problem was, Astyr couldn't just look into someone's eyes. They say a person's eyes are a window to their soul and for Astyr that was in fact quite literal. When Astyr looked into someone's eyes, she saw deep into their heart, and deep into their soul. Every thought that they had ever had in their life and every thing they had ever done was as clear to Astyr as if it was written in a book for her to read at will.  

But it wasn't at her will. She had no control over this talent. When she looked into someone's eyes, she saw it all whether she wanted to or not. And in almost every case, she definitely didn't want to. And even worse, was that Astyr couldn't ever forget. Everything she had ever seen, and felt and heard was still crystal clear in her mind. It was a macabre crowd that she carried around to torture herself with.   

She didn't want to know that the first foster parents she ever had only took her because they were drowning in grief from the loss of their own baby a year before. She didn't want to see what her second foster mother did with other men when her husband was at work. She really didn't want to know that one of her second grade teachers, Mr. Nelson, had thought she looked "delicious". She didn't even know what it meant, but she knew the feelings he had when he thought that and she didn't like carrying that around with her. 

So Astyr was very careful about not looking into anyone's eyes. It was much easier to get along if you didn't know how petty and spiteful and scared and mean people were in their own minds. She put up with the tags of "shy" and "snobby" and "pathetic". She didn't care what people said about her, just so long as she didn't have to see what they really thought and how they really felt.  

But she was mad and she wanted this jerk to let go of her arm so she raised her eyes to tell him off, forgetting for a split second what that would mean. She remembered at the last minute what she was doing and braced herself for the worst. His worst. Every thing he had ever seen and done and said and felt. It would now be forever a part of her whether she wanted it or not.   

She looked up into his deep sapphire blue eyes, beautiful eyes, really. They were surrounded by long, thick, dark lashes that made the blue of his irises stand out like jewels. The face around those eyes was quite handsome even though his skin was pale. At least it was clear skin, Astyr thought. His nose was straight and maybe just a little too long, but it went well with the rest of his face since his face was a little long, ending in a very nice point at his chin. Above that chin was a mouth that softened the edge from his well-defined jaw line and his razor-sharp nose, his lips were full and soft and perfectly even and symmetrical. Even his brows were perfect, lush and dark and with just the right arch to focus your attention back to his eyes. His really beautiful eyes.  

Astyr was so busy noticing how nice those eyes were that she didn't notice that she wasn't watching a play-by-play of his entire life. When she realized what was missing, she gave a jolt of surprise. The boy tilted his head slightly to one side and gave her a searching look. Whatever he saw must have agreed with him because he shifted his grip so that he was shaking her hand rather than clutching it and introduced himself.