Never Letting Go (Delphian Book 1) (6 page)

W
E MET AT
a busy train station.

I didn’t expect the first meeting with my other half to be at a place so simple. Words like
other half
and
soulmate
weren’t even in my vocabulary. But that was what we were, and that was where we met … at a train station.

If anything, I thought my future significant other would meet at the top of a huge skyscraper, or our eyes would collide at a concert among the cheering crowd while we stood ever so still. You know, like in the movies. Hell, maybe I’d bump into him at the grocery store, or something.

Not inside of a train.

I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place but my BFF Liam couldn’t give me a ride, my car was in the shop, Dad was probably in his millionth meeting at the office, and Mom? Well, Mom had been dead for seven years.

So I had to take public transportation for this after school job interview at the city library.

The train was packed, full of everybody from all walks of life trying to make it to their destination. I felt out of place, wearing one of my mother’s two-piece suits: a fitted black knee-length skirt with matching jacket, covering a white dress shirt. My father had issues with letting go of the past but times like this, it worked out on my behalf having my mother’s hand-me-downs. My natural auburn hair was dyed black and pulled back into a bun. My tinted thick-framed brown spectacles hid green eyes that everyone thought were mind-blowing.

To me, they were just my eyes, a part of me, and nothing to write home about.

My tattoos, my beautiful tattoos that I had gotten courtesy of a fake ID, were covered up by clothing that truly made my skin itch. The multiple piercings in my ears were taken out, leaving tiny holes in their place.

Dad had said I had to look professional for my first attempt at a part-time job, but what I really wanted to do was strip out of these clothes and run away. I’d jump right into the ocean and be one with the water if I had my way, hoping to discover another world that I could only dream of.

The noise of the train made me uncomfortable so I pulled out my MP3 player and inserted the buds into my ears. I closed my eyes and smiled, the heavy beat of the drums bursting in my ears bringing me to another place, somewhere ethereal and real.

Raw.

That was when I felt it. This heightened sense of awareness that made the hairs on my skin stand on end. That made me want to cover my face with my hands and wish myself away to another dimension where I could be one with nature.

I opened my eyes and immediately saw him. Dark jeans, black t-shirt under an unbuttoned red flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing muscular arms. He was looking at me through a pair of aviators, almost in question, as if he were trying to figure me out. Like he knew I was a walking fraud, trying to blend in a world where I felt anything but welcomed.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something to me. I steadily met his gaze, looking back at him.

Me?
my eyes questioned him.

He closed the book in his hand and stood straighter.

“Yes.”

I swear, I heard him. His voice was low and soothing, like a lullaby song by one of those guys from the twenties. But that was impossible, I couldn’t actually
hear
him: my ear buds were blasting music into my brain, he was so far away that his voice wouldn’t sound so clear among all the chaos in the train. But I heard him, I knew I did.

And nothing in life was impossible.

I didn’t even notice that he had moved from his place, not until he stood right in front of me. I took a deep breath, turned off my MP3 player, then slowly removed an ear bud from my ear.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time. We just stared at one another as if we were getting familiar with each other again.

“Do I know you?” he asked softly. I felt his eyes skim over my face, searching for recognition. He looked so puzzled I tried to hide the smile that wanted to sneak up on my face.

“Not in this lifetime,” I stated.

“What?” he asked, further confused.

“No,” I corrected. “I’ve never met you before.”

He reached a hand up and I softly inhaled at the movement, then he abruptly dropped his arm when he noticed that he was about to caress a stranger’s face.

“This is weird,” he stated. I remained silent. I felt like he was talking to himself rather than me. “I feel like I’ve met you before. What’s your name?” he asked suddenly.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” he said with a grin. “No names.”

He moved closer to me and I took a step back, burrowing myself further into the corner of the train. He noticed my movement and stopped.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I wasn’t trying to startle you.”

“It’s not you, it’s me,” I said honestly. “I have problems touching people.”

Well, except for Liam and Dad.

“Really?” he asked curiously. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just allergic to most human touch,” I said jokingly.

He blinked. “Let’s try something different then.” He gestured to my hand.

“May I?”

I’d do anything you ask.
“Yes.”

He clasped my hand in his, palm against palm, squeezing tightly.

My heart skipped a beat at the sensation.

“Sparks,” he mumbled, brows furrowed in deep contemplation.

I looked from our joined hands up into his face. All I saw was my own reflection mirrored in his lenses.  “You can let go of me now.”

“Do I really have to?” he asked softly, but did as I requested. “Does that make you allergic to me?”

I glanced up at him, feeling breathless all of a sudden. “You … you might be the exception.”

My mind finally returned to where I was and I realized my stop had arrived.

“I have to go,” I confessed, reluctantly moving toward the exit.

Dad would kill me if I missed the interview. He’d blame it on my wandering mind.

“Wait!”

Pausing by the doors I turned my head slightly, looking at his face one last time. I really didn’t want to leave him and it was hard not to throw caution to the wind and leap into his arms. I knew he’d catch me.

Instead, I stepped out of the train and spoke wistfully before the train doors slammed shut with a resounding bang.

“I’ll see ya around.”

I
DIDN’T ACTUALLY
see Ethan again until about a year later. By then I had almost forgotten our first encounter. The second time I saw him I was sixteen, perhaps a year or so after the train incident. I was completely different from the girl at the train station and if I had to guess, so was he.

It was probably after seven … just as the sun was about to set. I’d been staring at this lump of a guy lying against a tree that was growing sideways. A tree that had definitely seen better days. The trunk weathered over the years, its dark red leaves battered, and barely hanging from branches that looked like they’d snap at any minute. It was a tree that looked as damaged as I felt inside.

Well, having your only living parent die, leaving you orphaned and alone, does something to the insides. If I had to describe it, it was as if I had been burned, like someone had lit a torch to the contents of my body, and the fire had consumed me, slowly turning me to rubble and coal.

Dead.

So the fact that I noticed my heart pounding against my chest for the first time in a very long time as I stared at this stranger left me in a daze.  It wasn’t until later that I even realized he was the stranger on the train that I used to daydream about. I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled, tried holding on to that feeling that I thought I had lost forever.

I felt alive.

I opened my eyes again, not wanting to look away from him, not wanting that feeling of hope and life suddenly surging throughout my body to disappear. Why was being in
his
presence making me feel this way? I didn’t know, and at that moment I didn’t care. All I knew was that this stranger, this boy, looked up at the sky as if it held the key to all his questions and I wanted to know if they had been answered.

Because I also had questions for the universe.

Hands tucked behind his head, there was a longing in his gaze, and I followed it, staring at the multicolored sky before it soon darkened. I wondered briefly at what thoughts passed through his mind for him to stare with so much need at the sky above him. I glanced back at him, envious that he felt something.

While I was back to feeling nothing.

He finally noticed me watching him a few feet away and it happened again.

Thump
.

My heart beat so strongly it left me breathless. I faltered, touched a hand to my chest, and finally connected my eyes with his. This flutter of a thousand wings erupted in my stomach all at once.

Those eyes
, was my first thought.
Beautiful,
was the next.

For a split second, as I stared deeply into his stormy gray eyes I thought I knew what it felt like to drown, and I had wished I had seen those eyes the first time I had met him because maybe he could have saved me then. Head going under water, that feeling of fullness burst inside my chest as I chased air I thought I’d never breathe again. For a moment, my heart ached more than it already did, and I wanted to chase that feeling, chase it and never let it go.

I was being consumed whole, right where I stood.

Everything in my life was forgotten. My dad didn’t just die. I wasn’t a sixteen-year-old suddenly with the responsibilities of an adult. I didn’t drive away all my friends, and “maybe friends” because I was envious of their perfect little families. I didn’t just run away from my
best
friend, the only person left in the world that actually mattered to me. I wasn’t haunted on a nightly basis when I closed my eyes, imagining the frail body of my cancer-stricken father as he slowly slipped away.

I wasn’t afraid to fall asleep.

My lips just trembled and I held my breath, waited for him to speak first. My brain was still unable to formulate any words. I was still overly overwhelmed with an onslaught of emotions that I had never felt before.
Wait for him to speak,
my mind kept telling me. He’d know what to say.

Because I clearly didn’t.

I thought he’d tell me to fuck off, scram. Something. I had interrupted his peaceful moment of solitude with my sullied presence. Had it had been
me
in his situation, I would have told myself to leave me the hell alone. He probably thought he was the only one who knew about the bluffs with the stunning view of the sky as the sun set, and I had destroyed that notion by existing.

But … no. He didn’t tell me to leave. He just looked at me in a way that felt like he knew every little detail about me, about all the things I’d been through and suffered. I felt like crying.

And I wanted to know everything about him.

“Your eyes…”

I glanced down then and back up to see that he was still staring at me with those soul-gazing eyes of his. We both seemed to have a thing for eyes. I bit my bottom lip, tried hiding the small smile that wanted to creep over my face as I listened to his voice. It was like a low rumble, soothing, bringing me to another world, one where it was just he and I and no one else. No pain, no ache.

Nothing.

I watched him and he watched me in return, boy and girl. His eyes followed the sweep of my hair as it hung around my face, down the length of my neck. I swallowed in nervousness, pulse rapidly beating against my skin. He stared at the gold locket resting on my chest for some time before his eyes finally went back up and connected with mine.

He looked, he really looked, at
me
.

And just like that, I had fallen in love with this boy who stared at me like he was seeing my soul, accepting me as I was.

It was only then that I remembered what he had said.

“What about them?” I finally managed to say, tilting my head to the side as I waited patiently for his answer. I had recently forgone the glasses and showed off my pretty greens proudly.

He leaned back against the tree he was perched on, sucking on a candy. He made that sound that all mouths make when candy is nothing but tasty, and I wished I was that candy.

Dear God, help me.

“They look like cat eyes.”

I glanced away from his full lips, desperate for a bottle of water. I grimaced, wrapping my arms around myself. “That’s what everybody says,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly, as if I wasn’t nervous as hell.

A hint of a smile crossed his face, then instantly disappeared. His candy positioned between his teeth, he bit hard into it, the crunch carrying to my ears. He studied me thoughtfully. “I think I’ll call you Kitty Cat. In fact, I prefer it.”

“Kitty Cat?” I scoffed at the nickname. I raised my chin at him. “You don’t even know my real name, so how are you so sure you’ll prefer it?”

That smile came back and this time, it remained. It was lazy and sexy and so goddamn sure of itself.

I loved it.

“Because it’s my special name for you.”

I looked straight into his eyes, again marveling at how gray they were. They looked almost unnatural and I was instantly addicted. I dropped my arms to my side and stepped closer to where he was prone, curious. “Do you nickname everyone you just meet?”

This wicked glint appeared in his eyes and he slowly sat up. Even perched on the tree he was taller than me. I looked up at him as his hand drew toward my face and he slowly ran his fingers through my dark red tresses. He examined the strands, running a single finger down my cheek, then down my neck, before his finger hooked on the locket on my necklace. I shivered from the pads of his fingers brushing against my bare skin, and my eyes, damn them, fluttered helplessly. I swear, I heard him mumble something that sounded like
sparks
.

His eyes gleamed even more as he stared at me knowingly. One brow raised, he finally answered. “No, Kitty Cat,” he whispered, tugging me closer. “I don’t. Only you.”

We regarded one another in silence, slowly, yet all at once falling in love with each other.

But who knew we were both carrying a darkness deep inside that would be the end of life as we knew it.