Page 12 of Hunt Me (The Skulls #1)

??

Ruaridh

‘W hat’s going on in that pretty head of yours?’

‘Like you’d even care,’ Fauna answers with a slight slur.

I eye the whiskey bottle, but the dark glass does not allow me to see clearly how much we have drank. We’ve sat in silence for a while, and judging by her slowed speech, I may have given her more than I’d thought.

Usually, the lack of conversation would not have even registered with me. But the way my skin itches with wanting to grab this body of mischief’s attention is something I don’t think I will be able to ignore soon.

The enigma across from me has been steadily sipping from her glass, the one I keep topping up, and have been for an hour now.

The room smells strongly of whiskey, the mixture between our glasses and the smashed bottle behind us, doing well to mask whatever stench we picked up when we were down in the sewers.

I could see she was pissed off, knew as soon as her eyes looked up. The throwing of the whiskey bottle just made it blatantly obvious.

She needed a distraction, and since she seemed to like smashing things, what better to do than smash up a few planets.

Fauna didn’t leave like I thought she might once she realised what was happening.

Instead, she swung her bat with such force the small sphere painted like our planet nearly took my head clean off when she sent it sailing towards me.

Her laugh was worth the momentary panic, and I’ve spent every second since thinking of ways to get her to do it again.

The best was when her body shook with laughter as I lifted her into the air as we celebrated her win of getting Pluto through the goal we had made up.

Now she sits absentmindedly, running her thumb up and down the small crack down the middle of her bat, all the joy from earlier bottled back away.

I can't stand it.

The thought of walking away from her in such a vulnerable state churns my stomach. I know now her jabs and hostility are her coping mechanism, her way to guard herself against anyone who could cause pain.

My little deer grabs one of the cushions and begins to wipe down her bat.

She is straight up wiping it across the once fancy cushion of the sofa leaving thick streaks of I’m not going to try and guess what across the light fabric.

Her eyebrows are pinched with concentration as she uses the pointed edge of the cushion in her hand to work on cleaning the finer details.

A warmth blooms in my chest as I watch her.

She looks so beautiful.

How have I managed to find her in all of this mess of a world.

A half snort, one I practically never make so it surprises me almost as much as it seems to startle her, sounds as an automatic response to the absurdity of how this mesmerising woman fell into my path. Fell into my life and has begun to change things within me in just a matter of hours.

‘What?’ Fauna scowls.

‘You’re beautiful.’ It must be a day for surprises because I have no idea where that came from either. After all of these years I still have no idea how to play it cool when talking to a breathtaking woman.

I hear her mumble the word ‘weirdo’ under her breath, and somehow, that instantly relaxes the situation.

I need to pull myself together. Maybe I’ve drunk more whiskey than I thought. We have been matching each other's pace so it would make sense for it to start affecting me too.

‘Fauna is a name I’ve never come across before.’ I say, trying to find a topic to talk about.

‘What with all the billions of people left running around,’ she snarks in return.

‘You know what I mean,’ I push, but the scowl doesn’t leave her. ‘Before everyone died.’

There must be a thread connecting us, bringing us together. How else would you explain my nickname being eerily similar to her actual name. We fell into each other's paths and have been playing games ever since.

‘My mum loved animals,’ her voice is quiet and she doesn’t look at me as she speaks.

‘We used to live on a farm, and whenever she and my dad were out checking stock, they’d see lots of deer.

Then, the day my parents found out they had been approved to adopt me, they saw a baby faun.

They said it was a sign. So they named me Fauna. ’

‘You were close to them?’ The pain in her voice as she speaks of her parents is palpable, but I ask anyway.

She audibly swallows, her fingers back to tracking the crack in her bat. Then, ever so briefly, as if it is all she can bring herself to manage, she nods her head, a tear dropping to her bat as she blinks it free.