𝘐𝘕𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕 ✪ ybn | 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙴𝙽

STEADILY, BRICOLE STARES at the latch with a switch beside it. Without thinking, she presses the orange switch, causing the glass to propel to her as a mirror. She couldn't see him, but he could see her.

Instinctively, Bricole began checking her appearance, pulling on her jeans and tucking her shirt over them.

The boy watched Bricole as she'd done so, tilting his head to the left, staring her down. His eyes traveled from her shoes, to her thick thighs and small waist, to her pretty face that matched her soul; beautiful.

Bricole looked twice at the red latch before gently touching it. His attention adverted to the motion, hearing her fiddle with the latch, causing the sound of metal grinding against eachother. He despises the sound.

Bricole didn't know what she was getting herself into; she was to enter a glass box with a person, who is the opposite gender, and is superhuman/inhuman.

The boy watched as she peeked in, seeing her more vividly than before.

Bricole knew what she was doing was against the rules, but she couldn't help herself.

Inside the cube was cold as if a blizzard came and settled. She shivered before looking at him.

He was looking at her with a unexplainable look before inching towards her. Surprisingly, she wasn't afraid as she looked at him in the eyes.

Lifting a hand, it glides it's way to the loose strands of her bun as she looks down. His hand stops at the nape of her neck, feeling a vein throb within. A rush of warmth awakened the wires in his body before he became stuck to her like a moth to a flame. He craves the warmth.

As he hugged her, Bricole closed her eyes, shivering, letting out a hitched sigh. His body was ice cold; he didn't have any heat radiating from his body. She hugged back, thinking, he doesn't deserve this. Why would they capture such an innocent person?

If only she knew. If only she known how much damage he can cause.

Bricole didn't know what to do next, she spoke the only thing that came to mind; "Can you speak?" their embrace came to a end once she felt her body heating up. The blood inside her felt like it was boiling.

He tilts his head to the right, this time, "Vangwétu polć amaricy yè douidak?" he asks, the red in his eyes twinkling. His voice was boyish, raspy, yet deep and unnerving.

Bricole was confused, what was he saying? What language is that? Is that a recorded language?

"W-what?" she stuttered, "I don't understand you..." she whispers. Suddenly, she hears the door being opened.

Her eyes widened, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Quickly, she locks the latch and flipped the switch, letting the boy on his own again, depressingly.

"Jalaynie, he speaks another language. I'm not sure if it's recorded; I heard many languages, but that isn't one of them-"

"Can you sit your ass down, you're wearing holes in the carpet," Jalaynie says, "and so what if he speaks a different language. Let it go, you'll never figure him out, sister. What? Don't tell me you're crushing on this guy!"

"Jalaynie, no! I don't look at him that way-ok, maybe he's a lil' cutie, but I can't cross my boundaries with him. I just want to help him get out of there."

"You said you left the door unlocked; he had a chance to run for it, but he didn't. It's obvious he needs something before he could actually leave," Jalaynie made a point, "It's you."

Bricole thought of all the times she would come in contact with him, he gained something from her. Her warmth is what charges him. She was in awe.

"You're right," she responded, "but before we can continue, we need to learn what his language is."

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~> NEW BOOK CALLED RUGRAT IS OUT.