Lace

28

Riley

The man whom had barged in, entered with a trail of danger lingering around him.

Nothing about him seemed normal. His walk was fierce, and face was stern. He looked well built, and pranced around with a beastly aura. His eyes were primitive and he looked as if he lived off a diet of protien with a side of Vikings.

He seemed like the kind of man that would pumble a wrestler for looking at him for too long... He seemed like the kind I'd warned Lace to stay away from.

He must he one of those who thought that they owned the world. That the most fierce and might would bow down to him. What would he want with my Lace? Did he hurt her? Minipuate her? Use her?

Lace was a strong girl, but like any other girl I've come across, she's just a sucker for a cute smile and a cheesy little compliment.

I've seen it all my life. She's never been one to throw herself at boys. That field made great money from where we came from, the streets.

But no, Lace wasn't like those other people we'd met during our experiences together. Somedays I think that it's probably because of how little she sees in herself. She doesn't get to see herself in her most beautiful moments. Like her wonderous gleam in her eyes when a nice shop owner offers her a lollipop, or a good stranger tosses her penny or loaf of bread.

She doesn't see the look in her eyes when she gets passionate about something, or her cute little smug look in her eyes when she learns something new.

She only notices the others, the other girls who cake their skin in chemicals and money. She always wanted to be them. Complementing how they smell like flowers all the time. Talking about how their hair is always so shiny or their skin looks so flawless, then she looks at herself. She begins to despise her knotted hair, or her musky smell of the streets and hated her scars.

She's fragile. Which is why I need to protect her.

He went close to her, and if I wasn't for my every atom within me screaming in agony, I would have jumped up, and demanded for that putrid beast to let her go. He has no right to touch her, yet he carelessly did.

An action as innocent as him placing his hand on her shoulder, made my blood boil. I promised her that I'd always be there to protect her, but here I am. A lump slumped on a wooden chair.

I expected her to be repulsed by his touch, to push him away or slap the worried look of his face. But no, she embraced it, falling under his embrace as if he was her lover.

It was as if I disappeared from the room. The two acted as if they were in their own little fantasy. Until my Lace mentioned me.

The beast of a man stiffened at my name, as if only now noticing my presence. He introduced himself. Erebus, he says his name is. What kind of name is that?

He entended his arm, and I reached out mine in greeting. His eyes narrowed towards me, his iron grip hurt more than I'd like to admit. His grip was iron compared to my fragile one. I could barely move my fingers, yet alone show this man what he has to fear. I should be staking my place and showing him why I'm Lace's protector.

But I just sat limp.

I looked him over once again, my firy getting stronger at the sight of their enclosed hands. What was he even doing here in the first place?