Wicked Ones {bxb}

{Chapter 5 : Sage}

Firebreath.

Vinny let out an audible scoff at the name, watching as Kailan slung his bag over his shoulder and left in a haste. An immediate silence took over the room once he was gone, and Vincent let his glare fall comfortably to the sweating sheet of glass beside him.

The city was busy as usual, even though the Space Needle was poking through a foggy overhead in the distance. It was Seattle, after all. No one feared the rain, and umbrellas weren't worth the effort it took to carry them.

Speaking of which, a downpour sounded nice right about now.

Vinny leaned his head against the glass, the cool sensation calming his nerves. He had always been a fan of the cold. Or, really, just a fan of anything not-hot. With the gloomy weather ahead, it seemed like a better time than ever to go see Sage. His fingers pressed to the glass as the first flicker of rain pelted the window. Its brothers and sisters followed soon after, and Vincent felt satisfied with the quickly dampening conditions.

He took to his feet and left the room, sauntering the halls with his hands warm in his jean pockets.

"Hey, Vinny!" a familiar voice hollered from behind him, and Vincent spun on his heels.

"Jeff." He gleamed, catching his acquaintance with a bump of the shoulder. "How's it going?"

Jeff was an average-Joe. A scrawny, stereotypical college kid, nothing too unique about him. He did manage to throw the wildest college parties in the entire northwest, though. Vincent was always his VIP guest, because in Jeff's words, 'You bring the babes'.

"How you feeling, man?" He laughed, sweeping short brown locks from his face. "You were slammed last night.

"Won't be touching booze for a while." Vincent scowled.

"You should reconsider." Jeff passed him that same mischievous smirk he always had when there was something dubious up his sleeve. "Football season's starting. A bunch of the cheerleaders wanted to throw a party to celebrate the team. What do you say?"

"I'm not really into football."

"But you're into girls. And there will be lots and lots of girls."

Vinny turned down the hall with a smirk, calling over his shoulder, "I'll consider it."

Though Vincent got along with most people he met, the testosterone-pumped, meat-headed jocks were a completely different story. Some of them weren't bad, and over the course of the last year, he had unwittingly befriended them, only to make the harebrained mistake of fooling around with the one or two of their girlfriends. In his defense, he'd had no idea they were dating.

Ever since, he's steered clear, despite the hard-hitting shoulder bumps and sneers on the small occasion that he did see them on campus. He never cared much for their company anyway, and they seemed to only enjoy him because of his uncanny ability to attract girls.

Long ago, it was his money that brought them around, but now he blamed his dangerous appearance; his messy locks of platinum blonde hair, his various piercings, and the small array of tattoos that had been etched into his arms over the past few years.

Most recent was the tattoo he had dedicated to Sage: a fully detailed monarch butterfly needled into the nape of his neck. A design based on one of her earlier sketches—one he admired very much. Every fine line was detailed and crocheted together, the wings bleeding into black macabre charcoal. But the most astounding element of all were the eyes dormant within the piece; they watched subtly from behind nature's noisy motif, nestled in the heart of the leafy wings. Sage's work was always cryptic this way—beautiful none the less, but underlaying something arcane.