As I seemed to regain consciousness, a billion questions rushed through me, and I blinked at the lifeless body like it could give me an answer.
When did I choose to pull the trigger? Where did this gun come from? What led me to this place at this ex...
DRUM ROLL PLEASE!! The official shipnames are here thanks to all of your suggestions and votes! So Dorothy and Spencer will be Spenthy, and Dorothy and Blade will be Dlade.
I think it fits perfectly: Spenthy is cute, and Dlade sounds deadly, badass, exactly like these two couples! 😇😈😍 Tell me what you think!
Finally, here are the aesthetics for this chapter to put you in the mood 😘
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'Cause you're a good girl and you know it
You act so different around me
'Cause you're a good girl and you know it
I know exactly who you could be'
A date, this was a date. I was conscious of this fact when I'd accepted under the pouring rain, and it had sunk in a little bit more as I'd put extra make-up on my skin, the information even imprinting in a flare on my cheeks with Pete and his playful comments.
Yet it was only when Blade turned off the ignition, turning his attention and all his bad intentions towards me that the fact really hit me. The impact somewhere inside my chest made everything jump up my throat: my stomach, my heart, my guts.
I had a date with Blade Sayer, dangerous criminal, merciless killer, and evil genie in his spare time.
I didn't need to look to know his gaze was fixed on me, once more searching for something between my freckles that I had no idea about.
But when I sensed his presence closer, I risked to peer up, averting my attention from the white thread poking out from the hem of my dress I was rolling and pulling between my fingers, and the fact struck me again.
It was surely because of the look in his eyes. It was that intense shade I was starting to be familiar with, and in the dimness of the passenger compartment, the contrast was even more striking, the shadows around accentuating his dark and dangerous aura, while the light from some street lamps was lighting the sharp line of his jaw, the spark of his eyes, and the wetness of his lower lip.
He was wetting his lips with his tongue like a cat about to lap his milk, a Cheshire cat, more exactly, as the corners of his mouth were stretching slowly, and my insides were quaking like a little mouse.
"Are you hungry?!"
His eyes widened at my sudden exclamation, yet his smirk didn't falter as if the comeback to my question was already waiting there.
'Dorothea... you should really be more careful about the words you choose...'
"I am. I think I'm gonna get some popcorn. Do you want something?"
