(𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘.) 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄
❝ WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? ❞

☂

"SO, DO YOU LIKE THIS?"

Poet gulped at eyeing the food on the table, glancing up at Matthew who was eating his food very messily. She cleared her throat and grabbed her fork, cutting the egg and watching the yolk spill out.

Your face.

Poet looked over at the other side of the restaurant she and Matthew were at, eyeing the blue-eyed boy sitting in a booth with his dad across from him. He was holding a menu up to his face, hiding him from the eyes of his male teacher.

Keep making fun of me, Paris, and I'm going to make that milkshake get thrown on you.

At hearing his aunt's threat in his head, Paris chuckled and continued spying on the two, his blue eyes peaking over the menu to stare at the disgusted expression Poet made. She was trying to eat, but the man sitting across from her had thoughts so loud she could barely hear the others.

"So, where's Paris?" Matthew questioned, swallowing the food he was chewing. Poet cleared her throat and twisted her rings around her fingers.

"Um, he's at home," she easily lied, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Claimed he was old enough to take care of himself so I left him."

If he's old enough, then he can move out and leave me and Poet alone.

Poet ignored his thoughts and clenched her fist, gulping harshly to stop the rude comments from escaping her lips. She scratched the back of her neck and glanced at Paris who gave her a sarcastic smile and a thumbs up while thanking the waitress who gave him a chocolate milkshake.

"You have any family?" Matthew asked.

Or can we start one?

Poet sighed under her breath and shook her head. This man was really getting in her nerves. "No. Paris and I are the last remaining members of our family. Grandparents, dead. Parents, dead. It's just us two."

"So you raised him by yourself?"

"Yep," Poet nodded.

A moment of silence passed and Poet continued sipping her milkshake, ignoring Paris's teasing thoughts.

"Excuse me for a moment," Matthew coughed, standing and leaving. Poet sighed and dropped her fork on the plate, hands placing themselves on the sides of her face and hands intertwining on the strands of her brown hair. She looked down at her plate and heard footsteps coming closer to her. She looked up and saw Paris quickly heading towards her.

"So, how's it going?" He asked, sitting where Matthew was just sitting, looking around the room just in case he needed to leave.

"His thoughts are disgusting," Poet breathed out. "He wants to get rid of you. You're not leaving unless it's for college."

"Mmm," Paris hummed, "maybe I can stay longer."

"In your dreams, kid," she chuckled.

"What—"

"So, what are you eating? I'm starving."

Poet and Paris looked up at the source and their mouths fell open. Five was standing by the table, a soft look on his face as he stared at the two with a look of adoration and sadness.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Poet gasped out, though, her question was ignored.

"Five," Paris breathed out before he got up from his seat and hugged the boy. Five smiled and wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging him just as tightly.

"I missed you," he mumbled, the two pulling away. Five looked at Poet and he saw her clutching her head, eyes shut closed. "You're seeing it aren't you?"

"We die?" Poet whispered, opening her eyes and looking around to see if anyone was looking at them or listening. She also looked around for Matthew, who she then saw talking to a woman and saw him standing a bit to closer to her. She rolled her eyes and titled her head towards the door. "Let's get out."

The three walked away, not without Poet paying for her dinner and leaving Matthew to pay for his own.

Making it outside, Five looked at Poet. "Yes, you die, and this time, you die, too, Paris."

"What?" Paris questioned, eyebrows furrowed together. "But, you told me last time that Aunt Poet protected me."

"She did, until her very last breath," Five nodded, "but this time, something happens. Poet doesn't see it coming, so she can't prepare herself."

"So, there's another apocalypse?" Poet questioned. The boy nodded and she ran a hand over her face. "Get in the car. We're going home and talking about this because I have tons of questions."

"Yeah, c'mon."

☂

Diego sat on a table by himself, spacing off and glaring at the table while his fists clenched and unclenched. He saw Poet's face appear on the table and he felt his eyes blur with tears at coming to see that smile of hers he had fallen for.

"What did the table ever do to you?" He glanced to his side and rolled his eyes at coming to see the girl that bothered him sitting next to him.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Hey, I'm just keeping you company since you look like shit and miserable," Lila defended herself but he scoffed, scratching his beard and clutching the ring he had in his hand.

When he arrived in Texas, calling out for Poet's name, he had noticed that the last remaining thing he had of her was one of her rings. The one among many that she wore on the fingers that he loved feeling against his own. They were always cold and he loved that.

"Well, you can leave now—"

"I'm telling you! I'm not crazy!" He turned his head to look at the voice that yelled and saw a man yelling to one of the staff members. "I can see dead people! There's one next to you."

"Who is that?" Diego asked. Lila swallowed the food she had stolen and glanced at the person Diego was referring to. She hummed and shrugged.

"James Capulet," she answered. "Claims he supposedly sees dead people. Now who's the crazy one am I right?"

At hearing the last name, he eyed the man a bit closely. He saw the similar nose Poet and Paris had, similar face shape, and similar eyes. He looked like a male version of Poet and he swore his heart stopped beating for a second when he saw the similarities.

"I'll be right back," Diego mumbled, standing up from his seat and ignoring Lila's confused stare. He walked towards James and sat across from him, noticing that staff weren't near him as much.

"Hey," Diego snapped his fingers in front of the man's face and watched as he blinked, eyeing him confusedly. "James Capulet?"

"Yeah?"

"Diego Hargreeves," Diego introduced himself. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, um, your name is pretty big here," James cleared his throat. "I'm, anyways, can I help you?"

"You can see dead people, right?" James nodded. "Because it's triggered by someone who has the same powers, right?"

"How do you know?" James asked. "The Capulets only know, no one else does. Now, who the hell are you?"

"You're not gonna believe me," Diego mumbled, but the man only gave him a look while eyeing where they were. Diego nodded. "I'm from the future and I had a girlfriend with your last name and could see dead people."

"Knew someone who saw dead people?"

"Yeah," Diego nodded, a smile forming on his lips when he remembered Poet... and Paris. "My brother. But, they were confused. Well, she was confused, because she met my brother a long time ago and her powers didn't come until years later. What did that happen?"

"It depends on the person that triggered their powers," James explained. "Your brother might've not wanted to see dead people and because of not wanting to, your girlfriend couldn't either. What's her name?"

"Poet. Poet Capulet."

☂

AUTHOR'S NOTE

you didn't expect that
ending huh? neither did
i. i shocked myself 😂