Angel ♡ Eyes

♡Chapter 8

Gorgeous.

That was the first thing he'd thought when he saw her.

Followed by: Mesmerizing, beautiful, stunning.

Now there were all superficial things. Boomer knew this. Was he ashamed he'd first seen looks over personality and brains? A little bit. But she did look like an angel. He'd of complimented her on it, but between the President rushing through a mission, the plane going down, trying to figure out a way to prove the President was against them and that he was not a conspiracy nut, and finding a place to lie low... he hadn't had much time.

Would it be weird if he just said "Hey, I think you're really pretty"? He didn't think so, but then again he wasn't the best at reading a person. Would she take it as him being sarcastic? He was often very sarcastic... but he wouldn't be! He'd be as honest as— as... what's something super honest? Because he'd be as honest as that.

"You look exhausted." Brick sits down across the table from Boomer. He slid over a cup of coffee before taking a drink of his own.

"Haven't slept in over twenty-four hours." Boomer mumbled a thanks and took the coffee.

"I still think you're crazy." Brick said.

"I still think you know I'm right, but are too proud to believe it. So you've decided to just call me crazy instead." Boomer shrugged his shoulders.

"It doesn't make sense, Boomer." Brick sighed. He'd been trying to wrap his head around it for the past few hours.

Blossom declared they needed new outfits—seeing as what they were all wearing was considered "suspicious". So she'd dragged Bubbles—Boomers blonde goddess of enchantment—and Butch to go in search of new attire. That left Boomer in the hotel room with Brick and Buttercup. One of which thought the other two to be cray.

"It makes a lot of sense." Buttercup chimed in. "You're just not willing to diverge in the probability of us being right."

"Listen here, prick," Brick frowned. "I trusted you and blondie locks. Until I'm one hundred and ten percent confident in everything you both have to say, I'm not calling the president. But don't think for one second I believe everything you're saying."

"Prick?" Buttercup smirked. Her right eye seemed brighter. As if someone had stuck a candle behind it and lit a match. "That's seriously the best you've got?"

Brick scowled. "That's all you got out of what I said?"

"Well I figure if you're going to try and insult me, you'd be more creative with it." Buttercup shrugged.

"You're infuriating." Brick tightened his grip on the coffee mug. "Do you even care that this whole thing could blow up in our faces? I mean come on you can't ju—" he was interrupted by Buttercup yawning.

She gave a lopsided grin as she stretched her arms. "Oh don't stop talking. I only yawn when I'm insanely fascinated."

Boomer snorted, blowing bubbles in his coffee as he did so. That was a beautiful use of sarcasm. One he'd have to remember for later purposes.

"This mission could be a whole hoax!" Brick shouted. "What if we're not even supposed to retrieve this informative from Him?!"

"To that I'd have to say," Buttercup started. "I told you so." She glared.

Before anybody else could begin to say another argumentative word, the door to the room opened. Bubbles walked in first, carrying a bag in each hand. Followed by Blossom who also had two bags. It wasn't until Butch came in with two bags on each hand and six boxes did Boomer start laughing hysterically.