Chapter 8.2 - Port Starboard without Rum
"Nothing for me," he said. Of course not.
"Let me know if you change your mind." The coy smile was still in place, but he wasn't looking at her, and she left dissatisfied. The fake blonde hussy.
"Dwink," he ordered.
I sipped at my coke half heartily, and then drank more deeply, surprised by how thirsty I was. I realized when I had finished the whole thing, that it was just plain old coke. Not a drop of rum, gin or vodka, just stupid ice. Dam it, he got me again.
"Thanks," I muttered, “not.” The cold from the icy soda was radiating through my chest, and not in the burning way, you get from whisky. I shivered.
"Awe you cold?"
"It's just the Coke," I explained, shivering again. “I sober and I want to cry.”
"Don't you have a jacket?" His voice was disapproving. “Ow Nip?”
"Yes and yes." I looked at the empty bench next to me. "Oh I’ve both of them in Bourbon's car," I realized. “NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Eduardo was shrugging out of his jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never once noticed what he was wearing not just tonight, but ever. I had just assumed it was black. I just couldn't seem to look away from his face. He was removing a light beige leather jacket now YUCK!! Underneath he wore an ivory turtleneck sweater, MUST BE GAY! It fit him snugly, emphasizing how muscular his chest was.
He handed me the jacket, interrupting my ogling.
"Eww," I said again, sliding my arms into his jacket. “Leather jackets should only come in black.” I
shivered again. It smelled amazing. I inhaled, trying to identify the delicious scent. It didn't smell like cologne. Or taste like it either, yes I did just lick it.
"My Jacket looks lovely on you." he said, watching me. He pushed the bread basket toward me.
"Really, I'm not going into shock," I protested. “maybe you should give it to all those guys, who tried to attack me, maybe they’re in shock."
"You should be, a normal person would be. You don't even look shaken." He seemed unsettled. He stared into my eyes, and I saw how light his eyes were, lighter than I'd ever seen them, golden butterscotch. I wanted the black eyes back.
"Did you see how well I whipped them? I totally went praying mantis on their asses.” That displeased him. He shook his head, frowning.
"This is mowe complicated than I'd planned," he murmured to himself.
I picked up a bread stick and began poking him with it. If I couldn’t have rum, then I would have fun. Measuring his expression. I wondered when it would be okay to start questioning him, about cabbage vampires.
"Usually you're in a better mood when your eyes are so light," I commented, trying to distract him as clearly my cleavage wasn’t working any more.
He stared at me, stunned. "What?"
"You're always crabbier when your eyes are black, I expect it then," I went on. "I have a theory about that."
His eyes narrowed. "Mowe theowies?"
"Mm-hm." I sucked on the bread stick, momentarily confusing it with a straw from a long island iced tea. I spat it out...sexily.
"I hope you wewe mowe cweative this time… ow awe you still stealing fwom comic books?"
YOU ARE READING
The Emo, The Sparkly Vampire and the Biscuit.
Fanfiction"Your skin is... pale white, and ice cold. Your eyes change color... and sometimes you speak like - like you're from a different time. You never eat or drink anything; you don't go into the sunlight. I know what you are." "Go on, say it." "You're em...
