Alright, it's Chapter three! Thanks again for posting!
"What shall we do, love?" Ian asked as they walked down the beach. They had their sand-covered shoes in their hands, letting the sand cling to their feet. So far, this was the best trip ever.
Amy shrugged. "I dunno, maybe just . . . walk?" Then it dawned on her what he said. "Don't call me love! How many times do I have to tell you? Uggh!" She crossed her arms over her chest. Ian smirked, one of his famous smirks. She glared at him.
Ian nodded as if something hadn't happened. "Sounds good . . . love."
Amy glared at him, then stuck her tongue out at him. "Real mature, Ames."
"Oh, I'm the immature one?" She questioned, lifting an eyebrow. "Impressive, Ian. Who's you learn that one from? Dan?"
Ian gagged, his eyes widening. "Daniel? That monster? If anything, I learned how not to act like him. WHich is very impressive, because you know how he is. He can be anywhere."
"I lost you there." Amy muttered.
Ian gave her a confused look. "What?"
"Never mind." She shook her head.
They walked in silence, and Amy took the moment to look around at her surrondings. There was a mob of people, with large umbrellas, and towel littered all over the beach, with people of all kinds occuping them. The sky was clear, with a couple of minature clouds here and there. The ocean was a clear blue, with seagulls floating on the water, diving for fish. Along the sidewalk behind the beach, stands were set up, Costa Ricans shouting in Portugese to tourists, shaking items to get attention. The cars were very different from America's cars, most not foreign, but made in Costa Rica itself. Homeless cats and dogs scavenged the streets, will teens sped down the streets on skateboards.
"It's pretty here," Amy observed. Beside her, Ian nodded.
"It is," he agreed. "But compared to other places, I've seen better."
"Paris," Amy sighed dreamily. Ian smirked, again.
"That's annoiyng." She told him.
He scowled. "What is?"
"Your... smirk!" Amy gestured to his face. "You do it twenty-four seven!"
He gasped in horror. "Amy! My smirk is my pride-besides you- and I can't live without it!" His hands covered his face so only his eyes were peeking.
Amy rolled her eyes. "Alright, Mr. Drama King."
She scanned her surrondings again, when something caught her eye. Bright red hair, that stuck out, that was pushed into a sloppy bun as if whoever had done it was in a hurry(probably). And she knew who it was.
Ian caught her gaze, and grabbed her arms. "Amy," he warned. "Don't."
She fisted her knuckles, but said, or did nothing.
The ginger was now bounding towards them, her hair bouncing with each step as she jogged over. She raised one hand, and waved at them. "AMY! IAN!"
Amy glared at her. "Walk away, Ian."
"No, wait!" Sinead called to them. "It's important!"
"Amy, maybe we should hear her out . . . " Ian suggested. Amy sighed.
"Alright." She turned to Sinead. "What do you want?"
"Listen, Amy. Irina is alive! She and I have teamed up because, well, the Vespers are back!" Sinead breathed.
Amy scowled. "And we should believe you because...?"
"Amy," her ex-best friend frowned. "Did you really expect them to leave forever? Or Irina, a Lucian to die in a fire. I think not. Trust me. Irina wants to meet up with you. We'll give you the rest of the story."
"Alright. But why not here?" Ian asked.
"Because," she gulped. "They're following me."
And that's it! Was it what you were expecting? Thanks again!
Over and out