“What look better?” she asks in a spooked tone, and why the fuck am I getting harder?
“Fireflies or bodies, whatever floats first.”
“Your dark sense of humor is really on another level.” She slowly approaches, then before settling down, she hesitates.
That habit of questioning everything I offer will be gone soon.
“Don’t worry. I won’t fuck you tonight.”
“Wow. Thanks.” She flops down beside me, her fruity perfume getting stronger. Or my sense of smell is picking her up faster.
“You’re welcome.”
“That wasn’t an actual thank-you.”
“Then why did you say it?”
“Sarcasm. Ever heard of it?”
“I know. I’m just messing with you.” I tuck that blonde strand behind her ear and it turns red, along with her neck.
“Do you like messing with people a lot?”
“Not all people, no. Just a select few.”
“So I’m a VIP now?”
“If you want.”
“Seriously, talking to you is like speaking to an evil robot.”
“Evil robot, huh?”
“Yeah, you know, the ones who get destroyed at the end of sci-fi films.”
“You mean the ones whose red eyes flash in the last second of the movie, signaling their return?”
“You shouldn’t be proud of being evil.”
“That’s the thing, baby. I don’t see myself as evil.”
“Please don’t tell me you see yourself as a hero.” She sounds even more spooked than earlier.
“No, I don’t. I just see myself as neutral. Instead of black, white, or gray. I’m colorless.”
“You’re an entity. You can’t be colorless.” She huffs. “You’re just black.”
“Black?”
“Yeah, I give people colors and you’re definitely black, like your soul, heart, and that disturbing head of yours.”
I stare at her for a beat and then smile.Jesus.
This girl is getting herself into big fucking trouble.
Because I want to keep talking to her.
And I don’t even like talking to people.