Never Letting Go (Delphian Book 1) by Christina Channelle Page B

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