High On The Bad Boy

Chapter 2

That's Iris's room, guys.

"Fuck" Iris muttered softly under her breath as her mother took the lead to the living room. Her father following after his wife like a lost little puppy.

Iris almost felt sorry for her father.

What was she gonna do now? Face the blue eyed fighter or bolt upstairs, lock herself in her room till morning and endure the punishment double times in the morning?

Arghh! I can't bear double time punishment ever again, she thought agitatedly.

What was he even doing here? Iris knew for a fact that he didn't live on this neighborhood, where everything is all dull and boring. She slowly dragged her feet to the living room, childishly wanting only to stomp her feet on the ground and scream "it's not fair!" At the top of her lungs. But, she refrained herself, blinking a few times to get her mind to clear up as she was going to have to witness a few minutes of her personal-hell creators collide with each other.

Might as well get it over with. I've got a lot more waiting on me for tonight anyways, she thought almost in defeat.

"Oh my dears, I hope we did not keep you waiting for long." her mother's voice rang in her ears as they stepped in to the too bright livingroom.

The walls were the brightest, almost blinding white color, decorated with big pastel colored flowers. the furniture was made of pastel pink colors with bright colored cushions with a white wooden coffee table in the middle, and a flat screen tv in front of the biggest sofa. A big family sized dinner table sat at the very end of the big room, with eight matching light brown chairs surrounding it. In almost every surface of the room had vases that contained different bright colored flowers.

All in all it was a living room out of a home decor page. Pearl was a women of perfection, so she had to have the best of everything. The whole house was alike to this room, except for Iris's room. That was Iris's safe haven, decorated by Iris herself.

Iris had always been uncomfortable even standing in this room with her dark clothes. So she could not imagine how the blue eyed fighter must be feeling right in that moment.

As she laid eyes on the one thing that contrasted the room most, she couldn't help the weakness that came over her knees.

Andrew Frost was definitely a feast to the eyes. All with his grayish blue eyes, absolutely perfect defined face, with full naturally pink lips, smooth pale skin, he was almost a fucking angel. And his lipring with his snake bites on his eyebrows just added to his fucking unreal beauty. His unevenly cut longish hair was black as midnight, and just like his hair, his clothes were all about black. Black skinnies, black W. A. S. P. shirt, black combat boots, and his signature black leather jacket. He was the definition of bad boy.

He wasn't one to hide himself, but he definitely stick out like a sore thumb sitting on the pastel pink armchair in the brightest room of the neighborhood, in all of his dark glory. Iris couldn't help but stare.

There were two other people in the room, sitting on the sofa next to him. A young woman with, obviously dyed blonde hair, and brown eyes, and a middle aged man that looked like the older, stricter version of Andrew. He was intimidating, almost as much as Andrew. But at the same time they looked so different.

As soon as Iris set foot into the living room, the familiar burn of the blue eyed fighter's gaze zeroed in on her. And she started squirming uncomfortably as she stood at the door like she was the stranger in the house that didn't know what to do with herself while her parents made themselves comfortable on the long pastel pink sofa.