Devour

Chapter 5 - Rose

"Have you read this one?" I ask, holding up a comic from my side of the bench. The psychic boys are on the other side, not at all subtly leafing through comic books and staring at us.

"Daddy said not to talk to the mutants," Angel, my little sister who I regrettably brought with me, says.

"You're free to wait outside," I say, basically pushing her away.

"No, what is it?" the taller one asks. His name is Dax. Sweet soft, sexy Dax who has ashy hair and eyes when he takes off those silly glasses. His clothes are too large and look twice worn, though today he's wearing a nice leather jacket over the faded surf blue t-shirt. His arms and hands are strong and a bit clumsy, though there's a quiet, self-assured sophistication to the way he carries himself. He has thin lips but broad shoulders that the jacket shows off quite nicely.

" This is the Invincible Iron Man Iron Man is a typical guy who is very selfish all his life till he realizes that he can do good things with his genius and not just please himself, so he, a typical human, builds a super suit that lets him fight evil, and he does it all because he can," I say, holding up the slick comic, "Try it. I think you'll like it."

"Your suggestions were good last time," Dax says, shrugging a bit.

"Daddy says comics are bad for your brain."

"Go outside if you don't like it in here, Angel," I say, sweetly while I think about how to kill her.

"What does Daddy say about us mutants?" the other boy asks. He's interesting, different. Not quite as tall as Dax, a bit handsomer in that he has sharply defined features. I don't know what nationality he is originally though probably some sort of mix by the slant of his cheekbones and chin, though his eyes are big and round and an odd amber though I think that comes from being a mutant. He has very thick, dark straight hair he's greased out of his face which wouldn't be so pale if it weren't so rainy all the time. He dresses in brighter colors though he has the same jacket as his brother. A cat is stuffed in the jacket. His name is Patch, for whatever reason I don't understand and they didn't care to explain. Maybe it's a nickname? I didn't ask I'm not here for him.

"Daddy says that you're the reason the war's gone on so long and that we should put you to death like they do in America," Angel says without any extra prompting.

"Bye Angel," I use her head to push her towards the door.

"We're not----dangerous," Dax mumbles in that sweet stolen puppy way of his.

"I like danger," I say.

"I like being boring. It's very, very over-rated. Doing things. Being somebody. I'd much rather please myself than anybody else in the whole world," Patch says, leaning on the rack of comic books. The shop owner is of a similar mind as my father, and huffs at us as we loiter clearly doing more talking than looking.

"Here, this is my absolute favorite super hero: Spiderman---he's a teenager like us, but then he gets fantastic super-powers, and instead of doing anything selfish," I glance at Patch, "He decides to protect his own city. I've read absolutely every single one of his comics, I adore him."

"I'll have to try them," Dax says, taking the comic.

"Do you only come into Bucknell on weekdays?" I ask.

"Mostly, it depends on what our schedule is," he says, lowering his head like he does.

"Because they're training you to be Agents?" Angel asks, she's regrettably still behind me.

"Him, they're training him. I'm distinctly useless," Patch says.

"You sound proud," I say, frowning.

"I am. Far too many people do things. Take him he has to be the best at everything," Patch says, putting an arm over his brother's shoulder.

"I'm not though," he says.

"You try though," I say.

"Here now, he's got a couple of comics about him---are there any superheroes like me?" Patch asks, picking up one at random.

"No, because to be a hero you have to do something you don't do anything," I say.

"That's true," Patch says, unapologetically.

"Here, try Wolverine as well. He's funny," I say, handing Dax one more comic book, "Stay away from Batman, he's boring."

"I feel boring most days," Dax says.

"Be Amazing," I say, pointing at the Amazing Spiderman comic.

"You kids going to buy anything?"

"No, I can't read," Patch is incorrigible.

"You can't?" Angel stares at him.

"He can," Dax and I say almost in unison, causing us to smile.

"Yes---I'm ready," I say, picking up my desired Watchmen volume and going to the counter. The boys check their party outside nervously.

"What are they doing out there?" I ask, putting my money on the counter.

"Probably keeping score of some kind and narrating this experience to those who can't read lips and minds," Dax says.

"Can you read minds?" I ask him.

"I---no I can't."

"Pity, you'd know what I was thinking," I say, grinning at him one more time before I let Angel drag me from the shop. Dax and his brother promptly start hitting each other.

"Why do you talk to them?"

"Um---they're adorable," I say, as Angel drags me down the street.

"Daddy will be furious, I'm telling him you're talking to the mutants, then he'll take your precious comics away," Angel hisses.

"I would cut your hair," I say.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"It's such a bad idea."

"I love bad ideas," I say, grinning.

"Rose!"

"Trust me. It'll be fine."

Nothing is fine ever again.