Chapter 3
Okay, by luxuries, I was hoping, you know, like huge fancy bed and champagne and stuff. Not the tiny bed in the corner, a carboard box holding up a bare melting candle, and the whole hobo look. Obviously the hot guys have their down sides, too. Bummer.
The guy stepped around me and headed off somewhere the candle light didn't light up. Rummaging sounds came from there, but it didn't hold my attention much. He hoped to warm me up in a hobo shack? Uh, hello? You may live out here and are used to the freaking cold with your short-sleeved shirt and all, but I'm so not a winter person. Any where below seventy is like major cold, dude. You get what I mean?
"Uh, dude—" I started but stopped myself before I said something I would regret. I mean, what was I supposed to say? Nice crib, dude? Uh, he might be a bit skeptical about that. That would be way too obvious. It's not like he's a complete moron.
He stepped into the light so that I could just make out his frame. "Stop calling me dude, would you? I have a name, you know."
"Yeah, when you tell me your name, I'll keep calling you dude, got it?" I replied a little too icily. He chuckled and stepped back into the darkness.
Some more rummaging sounds covered his laugh. "Name's Dimitri, kid," he called out. I grimaced. Kid. Yeah, you know what Dimitri if you weren't so hot, I'd so go kung fu on you. Then again, I still might. Mmm, I wouldn't mind tackling that bod.
"Not a kid," I scowled to him, trying to keep focused on something other than his body. (Which, is soooo not an easy task.) "I got a name, too." I said and decided to sit down beside the cardboard box table.
"I'm not too sure I even want to know your name," he replied back, ignoring that I was glaring off in his direction. And the bird that I flipped him.
"Well, whether you like it or not, I will tell you despite the whole 'don't talk to strangers that you just met.' I'm Tamsin," I said, nonchalantly.
For a moment I wonder if he's still even conscious. It wouldn't be surprising if he tripped and hit his head and went unconscious. I could just picture me freaking out like crazy and wondering what to do and faint from pressure at trying to figure out what to do with an unconscious hottie and.... mmm, I'd know exactly what to do. Talk about slutty advantage right there.
Instead of hot Dimitri passing out, he stepped out of the darkened corner and handed me a heavy wool blanket, the kind that irritates the hell out of my skin with it being so scratchy like and all. "Uh, thanks," I said, wrapping it around my shoulders.
"Don't talk to strangers, huh? Still listening to the 'rents?" he asked, a mocking laugh glowing in his inky blue eyes. I looked away, not wanting to talk about such a touchy subject. My parents never spoke of that stuff since they never truly cared, only school said stuff like that and it was quite rediculus. But thats another story. My real and foster parents were abusive and torturing and cruel and just flat out not the type of people you want to roll with. They didn't care about a kid, they only needed someone to put down and rant to and complain about and take their anger out on. It was like having a bully at home and not to mention the living hell at home, but the hell at school at trying to hide the bruises and stuff and not to mention the bully at school that knows and uses it against me and just makes the injuries worse.
Before things could get any weirder than things already were, I gazed around the room and asked, "They throw you out for being a real pain?"
Dimitri laughed in a regretful way as if he too had horrid parents. "Nah, it was more like I got tired of the place I knew a little too much about." He paused a moment and looked at me oddly.
It was then that I had to use the bathroom. Real bad. It was also then that I felt that tinkling sensation of invasion of privacy.
As if he could read my mind, Dimitri said absentmindedly, "Bathroom is down that hall on your left." He pointed in the direction of the darkness. Right near the edge was a hallway I hadn't noticed until now, and I scurried toward it. "There's towels in the cabnet," he called after me as if he knew I was wanting to take a shower. How creepy.
