Fireheart [Fanfiction - Alternate Universe]

Move On

[Header image is Lorcan Salvaterre]

Rowan didn't understand why he had to be the one hiding with the girl. Fenrys had always been the one somehow in charge of the flat. As if being the oldest gave him an advantage in that sense. Not like you can be older than your twin, but Fenrys always prided himself in the fact that he was born two minutes before Connall. And Rowan didn't have much discussion in the matter, he was three years younger than his flatmates after all. He didn't normally mind it, he had always been mature for his age, and often thought he was even more mature than the twins combined. Even if Fenrys was 25 already, he still acted like he was 18 most of the time.

"A message for us?" His friend was saying in the lounge.

Rowan closed the door shut. He wanted to listen to the conversation, but he was also aware of the girl standing behind him, and the fact that she probably shouldn't hear any kind of message coming from Maeve.

"You can have a seat if you want," he told her as he pointed to the bed.

"Who's that at the door?" The girl asked in a whisper and surprised him by actually taking a seat as he suggested. She left her duffel bag next to the bed, and sat down, crossing one leg on top of the other.

"Just someone from work."

"From the fights, you mean?"

"Yes, from the fights. That's not all we do, you know? We act as security in other venues as well."

Why was he giving her that kind of information? He shook his head, feeling stupid for saying more than what has needed.

"But that guy at the door, he works at the fights, right?"

"So curious all of a sudden."

The girl bit her lip, and then shrugged theatrically.

"I'm stuck here, I thought I might as well just spark up some conversation." She leaned against the headboard, looking bored.

"He works for our boss." He explained against his better judgment. "Not necessarily at the fights, he's more like... the kid that runs errands and delivers messages, the bottom of the chain if you know what I mean." Damn, this girl was good at getting his tongue to loosen up.

"He sounds young," she said, leaning sideways onto an elbow. She was wearing leather tights and a long-sleeved cream top with a low neckline, and Rowan got a glimpse of her flat stomach as she leaned farther back.

"He's probably about your age," he replied, knowing that the information was meaningless. Looking away towards the door, he peeked out again. He could still hear Fenrys talking in the lounge, so he closed the door and leaned against it. The atmosphere in the room was awkward. He had been so rude for no reason with the girl earlier and could feel how she was trying to analyze him now; which was annoying him.

"Can I ask you a question?" She shuffled back, sitting back against the headboard and resting a hand gently over her side. She looked a bit pale again, her lips faintly pink, and Rowan almost asked if she was feeling okay before deciding against it. The image of the girl sitting on his bed was unsettling him, no woman had been in that bed after... after.

"You can ask, I don't guarantee I'll reply." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for whatever was about to come his way. Anything was better than the memories trying to creep upon him.

"Have you been working at the fights for long? I know this tournament has been popular for years, or so I've heard."

Easy enough question. "Just for a few years."