Chapter 12

11K 750 82
                                    

Rouhem

     He sighed underneath his breath as he pulled the grey t-shirt over his chest. It was early in the morning and he was was starved. A man of his size did not survive on salads and celery, that was certain. 

     A smirk curved his lips when he noticed Inferno was looking anywhere but him as he dressed. Afraid she would like what she saw? He knew he did. Rouhem was not one to brag-often-but he did a kickass job with her hair. She looked more fierce with her wild cut and ready for battle in her all-black attire. No woman should look this good. He shouldn't be this turned on either. 

     "So, we eating and then talking to the blood, or talking to the blood and then eating?Move it now, this mutt's gotta eat, pixie!" He shrugged on a thin navy blue jacket and left it open. 

     As she spoke, she was strapping on a diverse selection of weapons. It drove him wild. Shit, was he sick or something? "Eating. If there is one thing to know about P--Jameson, he is a zombie until someone feeds him in the morning."

     "I am amazed at pixie memory," Rouhem exclaimed as he tugged on his running shoes. "Can we just have a run through of who is who? I swear I am the most confused fuck when I am around them."

     He watched as she raised her leg onto the bed and began to strap on small knives and guns. "Sure, I suppose you would have trouble telling them apart. Let's go in order, shall we? The parents: Aine and Jameson. Easy right? The brothers, don't worry, I'll go in descending order: Terrence, Jones, Ira, Kittrix, Leon, Kollin, Dacian, and Edwin. Terrence: oldest, feels responsible for the world. Jones: apparently a doctor now, colored black hair, extremely indifferent, daddy issues in my opinion. Ira: your favorite, the body builder, in clear need of anger management. Kittrix: crazy smart, bad social skills. Leon: looks like red-headed Tarzan, control and neat freak. Kollin: twin number one, talks till his tongue is numb, that is saying a lot coming from me, eats all the time. Dacian: not too talkative, though is always popular with the ladies. Edwin: way too nice, angel boy, and I have no idea how he came out of this family." 

     Wow, just wow. "And then you?" 

     Her lips were thinly pressed together. "And then me."

     "Let me get this straight. The parents: Aine, Jameson. Terence: oldest, enough said. Jones: go-with-the-flow. Ira: hulk syndrome. Kittrix: Jimmy Neutron incarnate. Leon: broom dude. Kollin: vomit mouth. Dacian: Mr. Suave. Edwin: lovey dovey sweetheart guy. Inferno: batshit crazy." A pillow smacked his face. 

     "Jimmy Neutron? I didn't realize princes from Glamour watched Nickelodeon."

     "Royals are expected to be well-informed on most cultures, including those on Human Earth. I must say though, US American Culture is a guilty pleasure of mine," Rouhem admitted. They were a fascinating and wild people indeed. He was learning though he didn't know as much as he thought he did.

     "US Americans are crazy!" Inferno agreed, "young and dumb, unhealthily competative, though no one can deny they have a certain charm to them found no where else on this planet. I, myself, am a fan of Latin Americans. The US may be crazy, but Latin Americans invented crazy!"

     "Brexon always enjoyed Europe," Rouhem responded, not knowing why he was sharing this, "he says that North America is too wild for him. He's more for tea cups and croissants, you know, proper things."

     She began to add weapons onto her other leg. "Trust me, there is a wild side to every culture. Some are more upfront about it than others." 

The Glorious Flame (#2)Where stories live. Discover now