The Good Guy Appeal
Ebony would be lying to herself if she said she didn't understand the appeal of the 'good guy', when after all Bray was living proof of that so called attraction. However Bray was also the 'hero' type, with his superficial standards of good and morals that rivalled even the ever so righteous Amber. But he could also handle himself in a fight, survive on his own and held a sort of charm that had every girl falling head over heels for him. Her feelings for him, though regrettably one-sided, made sense. He would have been a good match, one worthy of her, a leader to rule by her side.
But Jack?
Yes he was the good guy, honest and loyal but the kid was a wimp. Petrified of her. He looked like he was going to piss himself even before she did anything. She could just look at him and he'd run for the hills. Jack was definitely not her type. She needed a guy who could hold his own and not run from conflict or break after one punch. However she couldn't deny that Jack was no longer a scrawny know it all, well at least the scrawny part anyway, but rather he had grown better looking over time. She might even go as far as to say grown handsome…
Mentally slapping herself Ebony tried to regain control of her train of thought and dragged it back to the problem at hand. She did not like Jack. She couldn't. Maybe it's just the rebound, after all Bray's rejection of her heart felt confession, which had taken all her will power to actually confront him and left her vulnerable, had broken her. It had hurt like a physical pain, knocking the air from her lungs and forcing her legs to buckle beneath her. It had left her feeling frozen inside but she had projected that coldness onto her persona and was using it to her advantage, keeping the morons of this city in line. That must be it, rebound, she had let herself become vulnerable to a guy who had chucked her aside as if she was nothing, not worth his time and he would regret it. She would never be weak like that again.
That would explain her apparent attraction to Jack. She didn't want to be hurt again. She wanted stability. She wanted loyalty. She wanted Jack…
She almost groaned aloud with her inability to convince herself what could obviously be the only explanation. Needing to escape from the prying eyes of her militia, Ebony turned towards her room. She marched down the corridor like a women on a mission, forcing people to scramble out of the way in order to avoid her as she passed multiple numbered doors. Eventually she reached her room, a place she could escape to her thoughts, which desperately needed organisation. Ebony reached for the handle, grasped it, swung the door open and froze.
Before her stood a paling red headed boy who looked like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and despite her mental protest, her heart fluttered at the sight. He did look cute when he was scared.