Ava Francis slipped into the orphanage's quiet ward, her steps soft on the worn floor, the echo of Ethan Nicolas's words—"At this night, I am captivated to you, only you, I don't want anyone else"—still dancing in her mind. His green eyes, intense under the starlight, lingered like a spark, but she brushed it off with a small smile. She wore a simple jacket, her dark hair loose, freckles faint in the dim glow of a single lamp. The children slept soundly, Sam's bunny peeking from his cot, a reminder of the day's gift-giving that warmed her heart.
She reached her small cot in the volunteer's room, kicking off her shoes and sinking into the thin mattress. Lying back, she stared at the ceiling, Ethan's voice replaying—"I am captivated to you." A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Flirt," she whispered to herself, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Bet he's said that to Claire and Tara too." The thought didn't sting—it was just Ethan, playing his game. Her smile lingered, light and unbothered, as she pulled the blanket up. Sleep came swiftly, wrapping her in a calm, dreamless rest.
Morning broke crisp, the village stirring under a pale dawn. Ava stood outside the orphanage, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, dressed in jeans and a cozy sweater for the trip back. The children gathered on the steps, waving, Sam clutching his coloring book, their smiles a bittersweet goodbye. Ethan pulled up in his sleek black car, his leather jacket scuffed, dark hair swept back, green eyes catching the early light. The red scratch on his neck stood out, but he flashed a grin, popping the passenger door. "Ready?"
Ava nodded, sliding in, her burner phone heavy in her pocket—WolfSnap's explosion the previous night still a mystery she set aside for now. The car hummed as they left the village behind, hills rolling past under a graying sky, the silence comfortable but tinged with curiosity. Ethan's hands were steady on the wheel, his usual charm softened, a quieter edge in his glance.
By late afternoon, the city's outskirts loomed, but Ethan slowed near a roadside diner, its neon sign flickering in the fading light. "Hungry?" he asked, his voice easy, glancing her way.
Ava's stomach rumbled, and she laughed. "Starving."
They settled into a booth inside, the diner cozy with the scent of sizzling burgers and fresh coffee. Vinyl seats squeaked as Ava flipped through the menu, her hair loose, freckles sharp in the warm light. Ethan leaned back, sunglasses off, his white T-shirt crisp under his jacket. They ordered—burgers, fries, milkshakes—and the food arrived quickly, plates clinking on the table.
As Ava dipped a fry in ketchup, Ethan's words from the hill stirred her curiosity, his playful intensity still vivid. She leaned forward, her tone light but direct. "So, Ethan—what's going on with you and Claire? Tara too?"
Ethan paused, his burger halfway to his mouth, green eyes meeting hers with a faint smirk. He set it down, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Sex," he said, his voice blunt but relaxed. "Just that. Nothing deeper."
Ava raised an eyebrow, unfazed, a teasing edge in her voice. "So, same deal with me, right? That's your angle?"
He laughed, a sharp, genuine burst that echoed in the booth. "No, Ava, I haven't thought about having sex with you." His eyes sparkled, playful yet steady, holding her gaze. "I just wanted to see if you'd want to hang out with me, like Claire or Tara do. That's all. Just testing the waters. If you were into it, *then* I'd think about sex or anything like that. I don't push where I'm not wanted. If someone's got the same vibe, I'm game. But I don't force anyone."
Ava blinked, his honesty catching her off-guard, clear and unguarded. Her guard eased, a warmth blooming in her chest—not attraction, but a quiet respect. He wasn't scheming, wasn't cornering her. It felt real, his way of laying it bare. She smiled, small but genuine, her eyes brightening. "Good to know," she said, her voice soft, a thread of trust weaving between them.
Ethan grinned, leaning back, the air lighter now. "Glad we're on the same page."
They dug into their food, the conversation drifting to easy topics—the diner's retro jukebox, the kids' joy at the orphanage, the grind waiting at Lone Wolf Tech. Ava's smile stayed, Ethan's words at the diner a steady anchor, her wariness softening. Outside, the sun sank low, streaking the sky with orange, and the car roared back to life as they hit the road.
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The city greeted them by dusk, its lights pulsing with life. Ethan pulled up to Ava's house, the small, warm place glowing under the evening sky. She grabbed her bag, turning to him. "Thanks for the ride. And the dinner."
"Anytime," he said, his grin easy, green eyes catching hers briefly. "See you at work."
Ava nodded, stepping out, the door clicking shut. As he drove away, she lingered on the porch, her smile fading into quiet thought. He's not what I expected. The burner phone in her pocket weighed heavy, WolfSnap's unanswered questions lingering, but Ethan's honesty at the diner held her focus—a glimpse behind his playboy mask.
Inside, the house was still, Greg and Lily out. Ava dropped her bag, sinking onto the couch, the trip's weight settling gently. Ethan's words—I don't force anyone—wove through her thoughts, mingling with memories of Sam's coloring book, Mira's wrapper, the starry hill. She felt good, grounded, ready for what lay ahead.
Across town, Ethan parked at his apartment, the scratch on his neck prickling faintly. WolfSnap's hum was silent on his burner phone, but Yeman's warning—A pure soul waits—and the Peirie Alien's threat loomed in the shadows. Ava's smile at the diner flickered in his mind, her spark a light he hadn't anticipated. She's different, he thought, stepping into the dark, the hunt still waiting, patient and unseen.
To be continued...
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