towards me and stopped an inch away from my face. "Keep dreaming, Emmeline. I'm still not done terrorising you." I caught a glimpse of the fat girl in a murky window opposite us and her sardonic expression. Ho, she mouthed at me, you'd screw him in an alley and he still doesn't want you. Why the hell would he lower his standards? She was as cruel to me as I was to her, my sister in misery.
"Of course you're not," I sighed, pulling my attention back up to Blaze, who stared down at me with a frown.
"Lost you there for a minute. You keep looking like you're having conversations with an invisible friend."
"She's not invisible," I whispered, distracted by how perceptive he was. The truth was that days like these were intermittent and yet frequent. I kept bad company, but it was company nonetheless. Like Hunter and I, we were devastatingly inseparable, and maybe more destructively. It was thanks to Hunter that we'd come together and I still didn't know if that was a good thing. She was there for me, always, but she was an honest bitch. "So why are we in an alley?"
"Preparation," Blaze replied, still frowning, "mess up your hair and rub your eyes."
"You want me to look like I've just been bent over and fucked without the fucking?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, I want you to look like you've been mugged."
It was my turn to frown, confused. I stood stock-still while he worked at roughing me up himself, brusquely tousling my tied back hair and smudging my sparse eye make-up with his thumbs. Totally numb and paralysed, my mind struggled to process what was going on and draw a conclusion as to where this plan was headed. Until —
"I'm not picking pockets!" Blaze blinked blankly for a moment, then shook his head and laughed. "I mean it. I don't care how much of a ruffian you make me look like, I'm not stea —"
"I've not brought you out to steal, Emmeline." I sagged back slightly with relief. "Just to tell a few fibs." Consider that relief unceremoniously ripped out of my hands and stamped on.
"Fibs? What fibs?"
"Well," he grinned and pulled the hem of my shirt askew, "you're going to run down that street like you're being chased, pick a rich type to 'unintentionally' bump into and turn on the charm for our lunch money." Was he positively insane?
"No!" I snapped resolutely. There was no way in hell I was going to try and pull a scam like that anywhere, let alone on Oxford Street, even if he was the hottest man on the planet. "Why the hell would you think I would do that?"
Blaze shrugged uncaringly and took a second go at messing up my hair. By the time he finished, it was sticking out all over the place from my hair tie and I looked like a street urchin. "You look like you need a little mischief in your life."
"Why would you think that?"
He shrugged again. "You look like your life never deviates from a work, drink, sleep routine." He was almost right. It was a work, drink, copulate, sleep routine. I think I had a right to be defensive.
"Are you done making asinine judgements about my personality? You don't know me, not even a little bit."
Smirking, Blaze pulled me by the wrist to the mouth of the alley and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders. I could see both sides of the street from that point, crammed to bursting with native Londoners and day trip visitors craning their necks to look around in awe. All of them travelled with far more ease and fluidity than I ever could. Was I really going to make such a scene and risk the backlash of collaterally embarrassing Henry by being identified just on Blaze's say so? Did I want him that much?
"Your family is well off. They have high hopes for you but you don't want to comply. You'd prefer to spend your life drawing but now you've self-published one graphic novel and sold both copies, you feel like you've reached the conclusion of that episode in your life. School was rough, people didn't like you. You lived in your friend's shadows, though it was
"Of course you're not," I sighed, pulling my attention back up to Blaze, who stared down at me with a frown.
"Lost you there for a minute. You keep looking like you're having conversations with an invisible friend."
"She's not invisible," I whispered, distracted by how perceptive he was. The truth was that days like these were intermittent and yet frequent. I kept bad company, but it was company nonetheless. Like Hunter and I, we were devastatingly inseparable, and maybe more destructively. It was thanks to Hunter that we'd come together and I still didn't know if that was a good thing. She was there for me, always, but she was an honest bitch. "So why are we in an alley?"
"Preparation," Blaze replied, still frowning, "mess up your hair and rub your eyes."
"You want me to look like I've just been bent over and fucked without the fucking?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, I want you to look like you've been mugged."
It was my turn to frown, confused. I stood stock-still while he worked at roughing me up himself, brusquely tousling my tied back hair and smudging my sparse eye make-up with his thumbs. Totally numb and paralysed, my mind struggled to process what was going on and draw a conclusion as to where this plan was headed. Until —
"I'm not picking pockets!" Blaze blinked blankly for a moment, then shook his head and laughed. "I mean it. I don't care how much of a ruffian you make me look like, I'm not stea —"
"I've not brought you out to steal, Emmeline." I sagged back slightly with relief. "Just to tell a few fibs." Consider that relief unceremoniously ripped out of my hands and stamped on.
"Fibs? What fibs?"
"Well," he grinned and pulled the hem of my shirt askew, "you're going to run down that street like you're being chased, pick a rich type to 'unintentionally' bump into and turn on the charm for our lunch money." Was he positively insane?
"No!" I snapped resolutely. There was no way in hell I was going to try and pull a scam like that anywhere, let alone on Oxford Street, even if he was the hottest man on the planet. "Why the hell would you think I would do that?"
Blaze shrugged uncaringly and took a second go at messing up my hair. By the time he finished, it was sticking out all over the place from my hair tie and I looked like a street urchin. "You look like you need a little mischief in your life."
"Why would you think that?"
He shrugged again. "You look like your life never deviates from a work, drink, sleep routine." He was almost right. It was a work, drink, copulate, sleep routine. I think I had a right to be defensive.
"Are you done making asinine judgements about my personality? You don't know me, not even a little bit."
Smirking, Blaze pulled me by the wrist to the mouth of the alley and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders. I could see both sides of the street from that point, crammed to bursting with native Londoners and day trip visitors craning their necks to look around in awe. All of them travelled with far more ease and fluidity than I ever could. Was I really going to make such a scene and risk the backlash of collaterally embarrassing Henry by being identified just on Blaze's say so? Did I want him that much?
"Your family is well off. They have high hopes for you but you don't want to comply. You'd prefer to spend your life drawing but now you've self-published one graphic novel and sold both copies, you feel like you've reached the conclusion of that episode in your life. School was rough, people didn't like you. You lived in your friend's shadows, though it was
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