White Roses - ReVamped

Chapter Nine: Fake Roses Don't Mean Much

Jet black eyes stared at me.

"What the hell!" I yelled, jumping back from my coffee maker. It was four in the morning and all I wanted was coffee. Coffee. That is all. And now a green skinned, tiny pixie faerie stared at me.

"What an ugly, ugly girl," the faerie said.

"Oh screw you, it's four in the morning." I said as Drake groaned behind me. He landed on the counter.

"Matty, it's a messenger from the Lunae Lux Court," he said as he walked over to the pixie. He yawned. "I must wonder though, why are you here so early?"

"And how did you get in here?" I asked as I started the coffee maker.

"I left a window open in case anyone needed me."

I turned. "What? Drake, you can't do that!"

The pixie giggled.

"They need to be able to find me."

"There has to be a better way." I said, "Faeries can't just go in and out of my house."

"Can we discuss this later?"

I glared.

The little faerie danced around. "The queen wants to know if you're dead, dead, dead."

"I'm very much alive and protecting the human child-"

"I'm a woman, dammit."

"I couldn't tell by the way you talk," Drake said. "Now you may leave and tell her I'm alright."

The pixies walked away and went out the balcony. I went over and shut the door and glared at Drake.

"Drake, you can't. Here, people can break in and take my stuff if you do that."

"That's why I put a spell on the door."

Drake and I stared at each other for a long moment. My brain felt numb and fuzzy and I couldn't really grasp more than a few thoughts together, but what he just said rang some warning bells in my head.

"You what?"

"Only faeries can see the opening. Anyone you do not allow or know in the human world won't see it."

"Jesus Christ, it's too early for this."

                                                                                 _____________

"Why do you humans like fake roses so much?" Drake asked like I would answer. I shrugged my shoulder at him. The scene was supposed to be sexy faerie tale for some lingerie company, I think. I don't think anyone would want to fuck someone in the grass. I mean, that doesn't seem very comfortable. Rose sat on the grass, relaxing between the shoots. 

Drake sat in a bed of fake roses. I'm not sure if the plastic and dye helped his sickness as he called it, but I didn't have the heart to break it to him since he looked so peaceful laying down next to fake roses.

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder and I looked  to see Jorge looking at me. Well, he was looking at me with a pleasant, polite smile on his face. It was kind of frightening. 

"Uhh, Jorge?" 

"Henry Lovelace is the owner of Love in Paris."

 "So?"