DogBird

Chapter 8: River

Holy fuck, I think he might be the one.

I knew it as soon as he walked through the door. His eyes held a fire like slow burning embers, mesmerizing yet dangerous. I could see the demons dancing behind those eyes mockingly, and I felt as if I could hear his silent plea for help. I wanted to be the one to help him.

Although his eyes could hypnotize me for hours on end, it couldn't distract me from the discolored welt covering almost half of his face. At the sight of that injury, I could feel a burning rage flare up in my chest, and I could tell that my brothers were just affected. Taylen looked as if he were prepared to go on a killing spree with the deadly glaze to his eyes, but something about Roe's captivating orbs stopped those emotions from taking over, and he returned to the familiar bubbly little rascal.

It was astounding how he grabbed everyone's attention as soon as he stepped into the living room. Even with the bruises and cuts marring his face, he was breathtaking. His single-lidded eyes were half mast and alluring, with thick dark lashes framing them like the ominously beautiful wings of a raven. His straight nose was narrow and delicate on his diamond shaped face, accentuating the soft edge of his jawline.

I couldn't tell if his clothes were a style preference or a result of neglect, but they were worn and stretched paper thin, and his jeans were faded to an almost white blue. The clothes suited him, but then again even a paper bag would suit his long and svelte frame.

Once Taylen gently pushed him to sit on the couch, I could tell that he wasn't used to crowds like this. His hands wrung anxiously in his lap as his seemingly aloof gaze flitted around the room from under his enchanting lashes. Oh, those lashes.

My infatuation was interrupted by Kyrie as he cleared his throat. I wanted to whine at his disturbance, but those desires were quickly doused once I heard him speak. So his name was Roe, huh? Different. It couldn't fit him better.

Unable to contain my excitement, I sprung to my feet and made my way over to Roe, snatching up his hand in my own. At my declaration of love, he seemed unshaken. I couldn't decide whether to be surprised that he had no reaction to my confession or to be worried that he was so used to confessions that I might be just another notch in the mile long belt.

All of those doubts were quickly swept from my thoughts when his smoky alto voice reached my ears, stuttering through his words. I couldn't stop the relieved smile that graced my lips at his flustered self, proud that it was me that affected him this much. I plopped next to him on the couch and my weight caused him to fall slightly into my side as my arm splayed over the back of the couch behind him. Without wasting the opportunity, I grabbed his hand, bringing it to my lips for a chaste kiss on his knuckles. Nothing could hide the flush of pink that filled his cheeks and I could feel my own blood rush, not to my face though.

Roe's interactions with my other friends made me feel strange, to say the least. I didn't feel jealous, no, that wasn't the right word.  Rather, I was relieved that he was speaking to them as opposed to the bastards that attended Osage. I trusted these guys and knew them inside and out, and knew that none of them would treat Roe wrong.

Slowly, Roe began to loosen his taut posture and I even caught a smile on those plump lips. That smile had to be a spell cast to steal the air from my lungs, and yet again blood rushed through my veins, making my jeans a little less comfortable. 

The spell quickly dissolved as muffled shouts filtered through the house's walls, gathering everyone's attention except for mine, which was locked on Roe as I watched him flinch, his head ducked down so I could no longer see those smoldering eyes. A hardness filled my heart as the voice from outside grew louder and Roe's posture became less confident, until he was nothing but a shaking leaf in Kyrie's living room.