Young God [j.valeska]

four

Freya

Jerome Valeska smirked down at me, placing a slender hand onto his hip and pushed it forward, as if he was modelling for a photoshoot. I heard Seth giggle and Zena mutter something under her breath. Whereas I was taken away by his beauty. I know I said this before, but he seriously was more attractive in person than on those lousy files. But I also know he's psychopathic, so I need to watch my back.

"So, you're the infamous Freya Marshall?" he asked looking at me. Why do people know me? I'm nothing special, I'm just plain old Freya who just wants to leave Gotham. "You look too... innocent to be here." he adds and even though I wanted to roll my eyes, I hold back. The amount of times I've heard similar comments throughout the years is infuriating.

Nonetheless I simply nod, not able to find the correct words right now, because somehow he captivated me with his breath-taking allure. And for some reason, I let him have that power over me. Although I knew I shouldn't, I need to be more self-assured or else this will fail. Majorly.

"And I'm Seth!" I heard Seth exclaim. I heard Zena sigh and I couldn't help but break out into a smile. Seth clearly had a mind of his own and even though he was clearly unstable, he did seem pretty friendly... when he had his moments of course.

Jerome rolled his eyes and nodded his head at Seth to let him know he acknowledged him, however Seth didn't even notice and had moved onto something else. He began to play with his empty plastic bowl.

"Nice... freaky friends you've got here, gorgeous." he says sarcastically, with a wide smirk on his plump lips. Ignoring that 'gorgeous' comment, I raise an eyebrow and crossed my arms; what is that supposed to mean?

"A little birdie told me that you like to push in and steal other people's breakfast." I state with a fake gasp, now standing up and though I didn't exactly meet his towering height, I tried to look intimidating by scowling at him. I'm not sure if it's working though, because he now had this menacing look upon his face.

"Freya don't-" I interrupted Zena, by turning around and placing a hand up to stop her. This guy doesn't scare me, he's just a little bitch ass white boy who thinks he owns this place. "I'm not going to let this jerk talk about you like that." I clenched my jaw. And suddenly he laughs in my face, his laugh was brooding and a little creepy. This then causes other patients to peer over at the occurring commotion.

"Jerk? Is that the best you've got, gorgeous?" he questions me and uses that damn supposed term of endearment (that I was beginning to despise).

He comes closer to me and I could feel his breath on my face, "don't get on the wrong side of me... gorgeous." he threatened me, but his tone was very soft and his voice was very low. And he had to say that fucking word again, didn't he? I think he knows it's pissing me off, because now he's sniggering at me. Again.

Rolling my eyes, I push past him. Jerome Valeska doesn't frighten me in the slightest. His petty, meaningless so-called threat can be shoved up his ass. I can't wait to kill that motherfucker; he'll be extremely sorry to get on the wrong side of me. He'll pay for that... and I can't fucking wait.

"Freya where are you going?" I heard Zena question across the cafeteria. I ignored her and I pushed the doors open to go into the kitchen. It's not that hard to put some bloody bread in the toaster. I can't comprehend why they can't just do something so simple for Zena. She's been here for some time and she's hardly had any respect from anyone in this shit hole. And I'm not having it. If they won't make her some goddamn toast, then I will do it myself. You don't need to be qualified to do something so straightforward. A 7 year old could make it and it doesn't take up much time; probably 2/3 minutes tops.