The Ylem by Tatiana Vila

eyes wide and tilted, framed with thick
lashes, and his perfectly straight nose gave him the lovely, sharp
beauty of a lynx. Or a wolf, I decided, looking at that heavenly
gray-emerald in his eyes.
    He was stunning.
    “I-I-yes, I'm fine,” I finally said. The
electrical tingling in my hands was getting worse. I had to get
away from him before my Duracell-like body decided to release an
electric charge, so I twisted my shoulders and released them from
his gentle hands.
    He stepped back, putting a mitigating space
between us. He looked down at his hands, confused, and stretched
his fingers as if he was studying something in them. Then, he
shoved his hands deep down into the pockets of his jeans.
    A tortured silence filled the next several
seconds. Neither of us spoke nor moved. We looked like human
statues anchored to the floor. Well, I looked like a human
statue. He was more like an ancient Greek god statue.
    “What kind of dog was that?” I finally dared
to ask.
    He glanced at me with troubled eyes, lost in
his thoughts. “She’s a wolfdog.”
    “A wolfdog?” I asked puzzled. What did he
mean? That she was both?
    “Yes. She’s a… hybrid,” he explained, with a
slight catch in his voice.
    “A what?”
    He smiled, breaking the stiffness in his
face. I suddenly felt light in the head. “It’s a canine resulting
from the mating of a wolf and a dog. In this case a Siberian husky
and a gray wolf.”
    “Oh…right.” What were we talking about? Was
it about his killer smile?
    “But their official name is wolf-dog
hybrids. It’s easier to skip the last part of the name, makes it
easier for people like you to understand,” he added, flashing his
eyes at me.
    Before getting lost into those eyes,
something hit me. “What do you mean ‘people like you’?”
    “Well, the word hybrid is not that obvious
to some people.”
    To some people .
    Did he mean I suffered from mental dullness?
Bastard. “Thanks for the lovely explanation, then.” I snapped
annoyed and turned, walking straight forward and leaving him behind
with rage pulsing through my veins. How dare he imply I was stupid?
He didn’t even know me!
    “Where are you going?” he called with an
amused voice.
    It’s none of your business, you cocky
prick .
    “To my car.” That’s when I realized I was
going the opposite way.
    “Your car is that way,” he chuckled,
pointing his eyes to the Escape.
    So now I was lacking the sense of sight?
First stupid and then blind? This was way too much. He’d crossed
the line. “Do you think I don’t see it?” I snapped loudly. I went
back to walk down the same path frustrated, and I was almost
getting to the car, when Tristan’s strong hand grabbed my
forearm.
    “Did I do something?”
    I turned and jerked my arm. “Just…just keep
your wolfdog away from me!” I warned stupidly.
    He drew back, as if uncomfortable. “I would,
but I don’t have the power over her,” he said, avoiding my
eyes.
    “Then how did you calm her down so easily?”
I asked. The enraged dog literally submitted to his voice like he
was her master.
    “Well…we could say she knows me.”
    “Do you think that’s enough to calm down an
incensed beast?” I said accusingly. “Just look at my jacket.” Or
what was left of it. “That was going to be me.”
    He looked away.
    It seemed it was the only answer I was going
to get. “Okay, since we can say ‘she knows you,’ why did she react
like that? I only said hi. Is that an offense to wolfdogs ?”
I picked up my shredded jacket, now looking as if it belonged to
one of the zombies in Michael Jackson's Thriller video.
    He looked at me with heavy eyes, as if
thoughts were weighing them down. “I don’t know…It’s hard to
predict her behavior because she’s…a genetic mixture. She’s trapped
between being a wolf and a—” He trailed off. “Anyway, don’t worry.
She’s not going to do that again.”
    What? Now he’s a wolfdog whisperer? “You can’t be sure of