Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter seven

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SEVEN - 1992, Paris.

          HER PRIORITIES HAD yet to be ordered correctly, the small bag she selected almost filled to the brim with unnecessary essentials. Aveline knew that the bus was not just a bus, and that it held beds and a kitchen and a working toilet; yet she still decided that her favorite blanket, pillow and her lavender scented toilet roll were completely necessary items to drag along.

She had also ignored the pestering within her consciousness to inform her mother of what was actually going on, disregarding the possible consequences of what could happen when she were to tell her the news, with the bag on her shoulder and an apologetic grin on her lips. 

Saul was positioned upon her neatly made bed, his legs sprawled out comfortably as his abnormal socks engulfed his feet, torso rested back as he propped his weight up by his scrawny and lightly tattooed arms. He watched with a subtle, slightly amused, grin as this girl worked her way through her possessions, pulling out strange items and tossing them behind her head. There was a gentle pile of clutter that formed a trail from where she had moved to, the line filled with almost anything but clothing. She sure had her ways of packing.

Aveline's room wasn't anything large or extra-ordinary, the walls a pale cream and floor a soft wood, littered with a little clutter, a double bed taking up the majority of the floor space, directly in the center. She had a white dresser, just next to the bedpost, that held her clothing items - though there weren't very many - and a small shoe rack that only supported two pairs of ratty, beat up, second-hand, sneakers.

Within the top drawer, as Saul discovered as she tore it open with a silent breath, was her underwear and socks. She had many pairs of yellow socks, and unmatching bra's with a few lacy thongs; all items of which she launched in Saul's direction, unapologetically glancing back as he let out a huff, a single bra draped along his facial features, his brows raised with shock.

"Oh." He mumbled, voice slightly muffled by the fabric, before he slowly peeled it from his face and blinked a few times. "Nice bra?" He smirked, holding it up with his fore and middle fingers, tossing it upon the ground, shaking his head and breathing a lose laugh.

"Could you put that all in the bag, please?" Aveline asked, smiling politely and blatantly ignoring his previous, perverted, comment. Saul shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, still grinning something small, and collected the clothing together, picking out a particular thong and holding it up with a deepening smirk and raised eyebrow.

He cleared his throat and spoke teasingly, eyeing up the underwear within his grasp. "You wear this shit, Leanie?" He grinned.

She scoffed and sent a silent glare in his direction, not bothering to respond to his obvious attempt to rile her up. Saul allowed his smirk to perpetrate upon his teeth as a gentle chuckle vibrated through his chest, throaty and humored.

"Doesn't everyone wear pants?" Aveline then questioned, raising a curious eyebrow in the curly haired mans direction.

"I don't." He shrugged, stuffing the clothing messily into the remaining space within the bag. "Not unless I have to, at least."

Aveline stood up straight, no longer hunched over the middle drawer and posed with the few silk shirts between her clasped fingers, speaking with a small frown. "In what possible situation, would you be forced to wear underwear?"

"Well, when I ain't got no pants on, I don't want the girls to see my winky, do I?" He scoffed, his tone reflecting that of a male child as he pronounced the word 'winky', an immature grin spilled onto his features. Aveline mimicked his scoff with a roll of her eyes, giggling quietly under her breath before returning to the task at hand.