In the four hours we had been driving, not a single word had been exchanged. The silence that had lingered almost appeared as if it were a burden. My desperation to say something to him had repeatedly seized to overtake my self control, but I was competent enough to hold down the words lingering my pool of curiosity. I sat shifting uncomfortably, feeling his gaze linger for longer than it should have. I knew I didn't possess the confidence to even consider voicing my uneasiness at his burning stare, so instead I fascinated myself with the adorning views encircling the highway. Birds ducked and dived from tree to tree, a vast horizon of blue smothering the landscape. Their peaceful chatter calmed my mind as I found myself leaning into the cushioned back of my seat. Although hardly audible, the song they sang fluttered effortlessly into my mind, easing the ache that hand hung deep in my skull for the past months.
Noticing Luke's shifting, I curved my neck to catch a glimpse of him. His eyes had been averted directly onto the road, his body moving to lean slightly further forward as he took in our surroundings. I allowed myself a moment to observe his appearance, which I considered to have changed noticeably since the first time I saw him. He had evidently received a few good night sleeps since then, reducing the size of the bags under his eyes dramatically. In the absence of the bags that had dominated his face, I could now fully take in his features. His face was well defined, neatly shaven and not a bump appeared along his skin. His hair had been styled this time, resting in a more uniformed state but he still maintained his laid bad look with a few miscellaneous pieces falling around his face.
"Stop that," he mumbled suddenly, causing my gaze to jump away from his features in a hurry.
I kept my gaze trained onto my palms following his comment, a fear that I would only worsen his evidently agitated state hanging in my thoughts. His body language alone had been off from the beginning of our journey and I couldn't help but wonder whether he was naturally as irritated as he appeared or whether it was my company. For not one minute had his face relaxed to conceal the frown indenting his face. Even when his mind appeared to be deep in thought, it only appeared to worsen.
I sighed, wanting to relive my thoughts from the distressing silence that occupied the car before noticing that we were turning on a junction that lead to what appeared to be a service station.
Pulling into an empty space, he parked the car and muted the engine, removing the keys. I watched him apprehensively as he trained his eye line onto the scene directly in front of us.
"Your name is Kate Harrison," he directed. "You grew up in a small town on the outskirts of Brighton being an only child. Your father runs a shipment company, while your mother works from home for an accounting firm. You're currently on a gap year and are staying with a family friend for a few months, Ryan Westwood, who you have known since you were kids. Learn the story, it's your lifeline."
"Kate Harrison," I repeated quietly, testing how it rolled from my tongue.
"Adelaide is long dead to the rest of the world."
"Does that mean you are too? Should I be calling you Ryan?"
"You don't need to call me anything," he replied sharply, reaching over to the glove compartment in front of me to pull a twenty dollar note from the wallet he had hauled out.
"Go get yourself some lunch or something. I don't know what you'd like," he stated monotonously, appearing bored by my presence as he placed the bill on the hand rest between us. His voice was harsh, his words falling distastefully from his lips, which was only worsened by the croakiness his throat emitted. It was as if he'd been silence for an eternity, and only now were his vocal cords receiving some air. "Don't talk to anyone. If someone approaches you, avoid conversation. Don't give away anything, but at the same time don't walk around like you have something to hide."
