Skin and Bones (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Fourteen

Picking out my favourite shirt for a party I dreaded going to felt like blasphemy. However my nicest black polo shirt with tiny flamingos on it was warm from the dryer and looking iron smooth.

Most of my clothes were dirty at this point, so it was an obvious choice. That... and he was coming, at least he said he was coming. That didn't matter of course, I mean I wasn't going mad about the guy. He was handsome and he'd asked me out and essentially this was our first date obviously not counting the first time we met in that graveyard.

If he came, of course.

I smoothed out the creases in my shirt nervously as I looked back at my reflection. I looked plain, as usual, nothing special.

It was always a mystery to both me and my friends why guys way out of my league who could have macho greased up models as their hubbies went for me, someone muscular but not that muscular, tall but not crazy tall, with short cropped hair, brown eyes and nothing much else to recommend me.

No, I wasn't ugly, but I also wasn't what I'd call handsome, and if I was put in the unfortunate position of comparing myself to Death...

I closed my eyes. It was almost hard to imagine us side by side, Death was strangely beautiful, yet powerful and handsome and more masculine than I'd ever known another man to be. Long nails, yet not painted nor acrylic, elegant fingers but in a masculine way. He dripped with sex but he was also so intimidating that even though I had an inbuilt voice inside me that was completely convinced I could get away with anything with him, I was still aware that he was in charge between the two of us.

I opened my eyes, exhaling as I looked around, wondering if a bowtie would be too much.

If I made a wrong step, would he punish me? The fact that my heart sped up when I thought of that made almost too embarrassed to look back at my reflection.

I didn't want him to be angry at me, and him punishing me at Christian's birthday party sounded like a nightmare come true... but the thought made me nervous in the kind of way thinking of jumping off a canyon might.

He might not even come.

I mean, his reply had been yes, but I also hadn't told him a time or place. Somehow I'd been so strangely comfortable in that moment that I forgot we lived in the real world and not a movie, where addresses exist and time is a factor.

He'd probably be busy, or he might not bother coming because, hell, he doesn't know the address.

I'd called ahead of time and asked Christian if it was okay for me to bring my boyfriend to the party and he'd been thrilled about it. I don't know why I had assumed he'd have been sucked into the whole mess with Zack but it didn't sound that way. 

I glanced at the attic window again, the one that lead to the roof. I don't know why I expected him to come in from there when there was a perfectly usable door three floors down.

Whenever I thought of him now I saw him at night, the moon piercing through the sky at a distance, his form a warped sharp jumping all too elegantly from the roof on the building beside this one to step gently onto mine. The way he seemed to balance on one foot when he lowered himself onto the slate rooftiles...

I looked down at my shirt, the flamingos looking off in their own various directions.

I scoffed. He reminded me of a flamingo.

Patting my pocket. I stored that thought for later, this would be a great way to sooth my feelings of intimidation around the big guy.

My phone rang somewhere on the couch, buried under my pile of clothes and cushions.