Anomaly

Amanise wondered if her eyes displayed the disapproving thoughts of him smoking in the carriage. She admitted that she didn't expect he would be the kind of person to smoke. Since basically he was a clean freak.

Doesn't he know that smoking kills the lungs?

She shook her head. He didn't look like he did though. But compared to other people she saw that were addicted to smoking his gaze was lucid, sharp and observant. It was different from the ones she saw back on Earth. Some orphanage boys mingled with bad groups around the vicinity of Mistorn. So they picked up cigarettes at a young age. Smoking at the back of Mistorn, escaping the eyes of Jamil's father. But she knew about it because she'd pass there trying to conceal herself from her bullies and take her bath.

Their eyes were unfocused, high on dopamine and adrenaline. Easily prone to anger not knowing exactly what they were doing under the influence and extremely addicted.

She remembered failing to hide one day and was caught by one of the boys who was trying to pee. One thing led to another she almost got raped, narrowly escaping by launching a hard kick, a move she was both grateful and terrified for.

She was thirteen then wondering whether she killed him or his choice of ever having children.

Normally, she had be on guard because she didn't know Hamlin enough, nothing about him. Even though she had certain personal doubts of who exactly he was. She didn't think he would ever look at her like that. Godforbid!

Instead she could easily imagine him throwing a disgusted look at her for having these thoughts. Maybe he might recoil backwards too. She knew she was safe around him in that aspect.

On a side note she had a lingering suspicion he was gay.

Who wouldn't?!

After observing him in the restaurant. There were gorgeous high-class ladies there. Her gaze even lingered on them for a minute or two.

But him?

Didn't even blink. His gaze blank like he was observing a corpse. But when his gaze were trained on the Artist.

The tension between them.

The thought of Alaric being gay made her giggle. Was gay an accepted thing here?

She didn't think so.

When Amanise considered she might have giggled aloud. Her head whipped to the side. To meet his gaze trained on her.

Puffs of smoke in shapes of rings rising from his lips.

Cool.

Something doesn't feel right. Amanise frowned still looking at him in the eyes.

Soren's body was weak in the lungs.

Her eyes narrowed at the slight crooked smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Hamlin."

The corner of his lips twitched then quirked up more into lopsided grin.

She bit her lip, subtly shaking her head flashing him a dirty look before looking away.

Learning something new from him again.

An undeniable fact.

Any action of Hamlin is filled with intent and purpose from the very twitch of his brows to the pacing of his feet. His body was honed to project actions that suited his purpose.

Like how in few seconds, his dissecting gaze didn't miss the fact she wasnt thrown into a coughing fit from the smoke.

One that might cost her life.

A risk notwithstanding.

"What if I died?"

"You wouldn't."

It was the certainty in his tone that infuriated her. Furious, she fumed. Her pupils flared in anger. Unknown to her, her red gaze shone with killing intent her nails discreetly sharp.

Almost claw like.

Unbothered, he toke a slow drag. Inhaling the smoke, then releasing calmly. His gray gaze dark.

"You killed a monster, Amanise. Not just any kind of monster but two ranks above you and survived. That alone is an anomaly."

He then looked at her.

Really looked at her. She felt bared under his gaze body and mind. With nowhere to hide. Resisting the urge to make herself smaller. She tilted her head to the side a smile on her lips. Her gaze slightly crazed.

"And?"

Watching her his smile turned shallow but widened no the less. His gaze equally had a tint of exhilarating madness. Feral.

"So something mundane as smoke can't kill you. You have changed Grimshaw. You smell different."

Her brow rose up questioning, "This is the first time I was told I smelled."

Not even when she struggled with hygiene in Mistorn not once did she had an awful smell. It was embarrassing to be told that now. She was living with grace.

He toke another drag of his cigarette.

"Hmm... You are mistaken, Grimshaw. You see I have a very sensitive nose. A gift or a curse depending on the situation, luckily it's working in favor of me now. You smell alien. You aren't human anymore."

At least she had a hint but makes no difference to her. Unless...

"So? Do you finally want the get rid of me?"

The air in the carriage still in a tense moment. Her instincts blaring.

She felt like her body would be cut if she moved.

One mistake.

No. He won't kill me. I'm still useful. Even though I might be a threat.

"Not yet, I guess. Maybe soon? When you are trouble. But now? You are useful since you are now one of us."

One of us? Her expression faltered.

"I don't understand. One of us?"

He crushed the butt of the cigarette on his palm, burning his skin. Slidded the curtain open then the window, tossing it outside.

"You will know soon enough."

He breathed out, casually waved his hand in a swift motion the smoke dispersed out the window.

But that wasn't what amazed her. It was the burnt flesh that healed without a scar, so swiftly.

She saw it. Everything.

It was like the burned flesh wasn't there even to begin with and she was dousing in tiredness, hallucinating.

She turned away, changing the topic.

"You still haven't answered though why does she hate me?"

"Hate is a strong word, Grimshaw."

It was. But nonetheless it was still close to it.

The deep rooted resentment that coiled up in Madeline's soul and threatened to squeeze out the life in her was outrageous.

"It's your eyes. It reminds her of her own monsters."

She felt her heart being stabbed. It hurts. Detaching herself from her tumultuous emotions. She gave a non committal laugh.

"It's a strange color, I suppose. Though I didn't have it before."

Her eyes trailed back to his side profile feeling her neck muscles strain. Whatever dark emotions she saw minutes ago. Now replaced with an incredible poker face. Making her doubt whether she really read any emotions at all. For all she knew she could have conjured it all up in her head because she was desperate.

For things she will never admit.

"Her monsters? What do you mean by that?"

Her fingers tapped on her chin, curious.

Was she also an anomaly?

"She lost her dear son."

The monster she killed a week ago popped into her head. A monster like that rampaged and killed her son?

But something didn't feel right.

"You said her monster."

This time he returned her gaze. His gaze dark. Bottomless. The light that streamed in from the curtains were getting dim. Night was approaching.

She didn't miss it, his lips twitching upwards again in resemblance of a crook smile.

Amusement painted in his features.

Her heart beat was loud in her chest, racing.

"Because she killed him."