The Jem

~29~

Deeja stood beside Jermine as he drank another glass of whisky. He'd wink at a girl every now and then, and they would bat their fake eyelashes at him with smiles that were almost as feral and hungry as hers usually were. She turned to him, already bored with this wretched place. Deeja still thought about his absurd remark and how much she just wanted to rip out at least one shred of his chiselled face. "Can I help you?" he asked, making her snap out her thoughts and realise she was staring at him.

"I'm bored." She snarled, grabbing the glass out of his hand and swallowing the strong liquid in one go. She made a face and he laughed.

"What did you add to this?" she furrowed her brow, her expression tightening.

"Let's just say, everything." He chuckled again, her hands twitched. She moved to slap him but he grabbed her arm, planting a bloodthirsty grin on his face. "Want to dance Kitty cat?"

"If it makes time fly faster, then sure." Deeja spoke with a monotone voice, her face probably looking as bored as she felt. He took her hand in his own, the other sliding to her exposed back. His movements were strangely humane, not clunky or violent in the least. "Tell me, were you always this vicious?" he asked, his eyes baring into her own.

"NO. Yes, it's just in my nature. My parents were warriors but then they chose the life of fair trade and leadership. Giving them strong ties with monarchs from all over our dimension. They taught me how to be a lady, but I chose to ignore it. My mother once even got me a personal guard, and...I ate him." She laughed with menace and he seemed to be enjoying her story too.

"I bet they were furious to find only his skeleton guarding your rooms." Jermine truly smiled, their feet still moving with the music.

"My mother yes, but oh how my father had laughed. Now, I get to know something about you." Deeja requested and he surprisingly nodded, he spun her, then when she came back to him, his grip seemed tighter, yet more comforting.

"My parents disowned me; after I was born they thought that I had a disease because I kept shifting into different forms. But since I didn't know them, I don't really call them my parents. The woman who actually took care of me was Tyra, the queen of shapeshifters. But we're like wolves, eventually leaving to find other packs. Unfortunately, I couldn't find or fit into any. So I just roamed the world, fighting in wars, pretending to be creatures of all sorts and stealing human identities was my favourite, because I gambled away all their earnings."

"That sounds fun; I wish I could be that free."

"It gets lonely." For once, she actually understood Jermine. Maybe even felt a little connection. "I would like to ask for one last thing." She said.

"It better not be stupid feline or I'll eat you." He threatened teasingly, she rolled her eyes. "Can you change your eye colour into as many shades as possible? Don't ask why, I just think it would look wonderful."

"Is there a please with that request?" He tipped her to the side, and then pulled her back up. "Just do it Jermine."

"Alright, alright." His feet stopped moving, pulling her closer to him until they were only hair's breadth away from one another. Jermine looked deeper into her eyes, her heart beat sped through her chest but she only smirked as his eyes began changing. From his original mint green, to turquoise, to blue, to red, to silver, to grey, to a sun shine yellow, to purely white, to pink and purple, to pitch black, to beige and finally, her eyes. They remained the longest, the feline glare with a dark slit in the middle of the green iris. His bold eyes finally returned to his own and he smiled. Sadly, it was shorted lived as a guard came running towards them shouting aloud.