Disclaimer: I do not own the Artemis Fowl series or any of the cannon characters.
Enjoy.
Chapter 9: Welcome
Butler sat opposite of Faith in the conference room. He unfastens his gun holster then places it on the middle of the table. The gun inside the holster shone in the reflection of the glass surface. Leaning back in his seat, his dark blue eyes pierces through her.
Faith shifts focus between the gun and the bodyguard. His demeanor shouts, 'If you try anything, I'll put a bullet in you.' Faith swallows.
"The gun is making me feel uncomfortable," she said.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but knowing your current associations I can't take any chances."
"Let me guess, Artemis told you about what I do for a living," Faith sighs; she wonders what else her boyfriend spilled.
Butler nods, "Yes, he told me you are part of the Shadowers, but I want to hear it from the horse's mouth."
Faith bows her head then raises her eyes. Haunting aqua orbs gazes through Butler. He notices that her irises were so pale it resembles glass. "Does his parents know?"
"No, we agreed to keep that secret from them for your sake and the family."
She sighs in relief, "Good, that would be very hard to explain."
"From what Artemis has told me it's very simple. You needed to support your family so you joined the organization. But I can't let this slide. I am in charge of protecting Artemis, and you're a hazard."
"I would never hurt-"
"But the Shadowers will," Butler interrupts; his cold stare would not wane. "I would like to believe you mean well, but you have to see things in my perspective. A young woman who came out of nowhere, besotted my hard-to-please charge, and is a harden criminal. You have to admit that doesn't add up."
Faith gazes down at her hands that were flat on the table, to show she was harmless. Beneath her fingertips, the sleek glass table reflects her person. Her face painted with make-up, hair done up in pretty curls, and lovely white dress to make her look innocent. But all of it was just an allusion. No amount of make-up and attractive accessories will ever conceal who she was: a horrible criminal with too much blood on her hands.
Faulting Butler for being suspicious would be redundant of her when she also found it inconceivable.
"You're right," Faith replies, "It doesn't even make sense to me either." Butler notices her voice was velvet, and toned-down. It was enough to catch anyone's attention.
"Tell me what happened on your end," Butler asks, "how did you two really get together?"
"I bumped into him in Paris while on the job. After that, I met him again here in Ireland at a criminal party. I didn't like him at first, but he has a huge problem with taking 'no' for an answer." She beams, and redness overflows her cheeks.
Butler leans back in his chair. Her answer aligns with what Artemis said, a good sign that she's telling truth. But one can't always be so sure. "You do understand that you must take some type of action away from your connections. I cannot allow that group to go anywhere near Artemis."
"I agree with you. I am doing everything in my power to keep them away from him."
"Have you considered retirement? You can't work there forever."
Faith stares at her hands; the image of dried blood smeared on her hands was fresh in her mind. "Leaving is harder because of my history, and I have a debt to pay so it's matter of finding the right moment."
"How long will it take you to pay your debt?"
"I don't know," Faith answers; her palms were damp with sweat.
Butler grumbles in his throat. It did not take a genius to tell he was not satisfied with the answers he receives. "Artemis is a well established businessman. He can take care of you and your family without breaking a sweat; it would be smart to let him take care of you."
"He's generous, but I don't need that type of help." Faith frowns at Butler, "I can manage on my own."
The manservant joins his hands in a tight ball, his knuckles crack, "I respect that, Miss Holloway, I really do, but options are limited. I am responsible over this family's safety and you are a possible threat."
The tops of her fingers curls against the smooth, cold surface. "I would never do anything to hurt this family, especially not Artemis."
Butler rubs the back of his thick neck and rumbles a sigh, "I would like to believe you, but please consider what I'm saying."
Faith nods. The man was doing his duty to protect the people he cared about. Faith knows the dilemma well enough to write 7 novels about it. "He's not going to get hurt because of me. I will never let that happen."
"Neither will I," Butler scowls and stands up, "If anything happens to Artemis regarding that organization, don't expect me to go easy on you."
"If something does happen, I give you free reign."
The manservant bows his head; he lures her back to the dinning room door. His large hand clamps on her shoulder, he does not put any pressure on her, but it was still heavy on her side. Bending down to be eye-level with her, the lines in his face were deep and piercing. "Consider what I said. Artemis may never forgive me if I have take action against you."
Faith nods, and reaches for the crystal doorknob.
"Another thing, Miss Holloway," Butler adds.
Faith turns, "Yes, sir?"
The corner of Butler mouth perks up, "Welcome to the family."
Blinking in disbelief, she smiles back nervously, "Thank you."
"Go on before Artemis storms out."
"Good point," she chuckles and waltzes into the dinning room. The sound of the door closing behind her alerts the Fowls. They turn to the young woman collectively. Artemis hops out of his seat; his eyes were sending her signals if everything was all right.
She smiles in response, "I hope I did not keep everyone waiting too long."
"Very long," Angeline teased, "We have a long night of picking your head. Please sit the main course is ready."
Faith joins the table; in front of her was large oval dish with an assortment of shrimp, lobster, and greenery. Bowls filled with bread, and plates of other seafood such as salmon, and cooked bounded meat. Her mouth waters at the steaming, juicy dishes. As soon as she sat down the servers busted in with arms filled with more cuisine. There was so much food that Faith almost asked if more people was coming.
The servers prepare the individual meals on fine china plates, and set in front of the Fowls and Faith. The dinner went on without any more interruptions. Angeline threw question after question at Faith, and the young woman answered all of them carefully. All of her answers seemed very satisfactory to both the matriarch and the patriarch; their faces lit up, and looked at each other knowingly. It was amazing how they have an unspoken language only they can understand. Faith hoped she achieves that with Artemis in the future. Throughout the dinner, Artemis would trace her knuckles while her hand was resting on the arm of the chair or intertwine their fingers. He made remarks here and there and praised the woman beside him, but allowed his parents to interview her.
The Fowls clothe their napkins over their plates; Faith mirrors them. The group did not even make a dent in the amount of food on the table. Faith wonders what they were going to do with the rest; it was enough left overs to last a month. She might ask to take some home for the boys to enjoy.
Angeline dabs at her mouth with another handkerchief with the Fowl emblem. "That was wonderful meal. Arty paid a pretty penny for the catering."
Artemis Jr. swirls his wine glass, "It was almost decent. I should speak with the chefs about their mediocre performance." He drains his glass and set it down with an audible thump.
Angeline and Mr. Fowl roll their eyes.
"So hard to please," Angeline shook her head, "And bossy. The chefs were killing themselves over this night."
Artemis snorts unsympathetically. Faith taps his hand and gave him a look.
"But if you loved it, then I adore it," he kisses her hand. Mr. Fowl arches his eyebrow; he never seen his son changes his opinion so quickly on account of someone else. Words were not necessary; the young woman looked at him and he was obedient.
"Good to know everyone is happy. How about we take this party to living room and have few drinks." Mr. Fowl cheers.
"Father," Artemis scolds and signals at Faith. She bows her head almost in shame.
Mr. Fowl rolls his eyes, "Arty, if the girl is mature enough to handle a household, she can handle couple of drinks. Besides, you've been sipping champagne since you were ten."
Artemis was going to argue but remembered whom he was dealing with, and sighs in defeat.
"Timmy, why don't you go on and take Faith to the living room. Me and Arty have to talk about things."
Artemis shakes his head in protest. He love his father more than anything but he certainly does not trust him with Faith, especially when alcohol is in the equation. Faith worries about what Angeline wanted to speak to Artemis about. A salty lump bobs in her throat, and her hands moisten with sweat.
Mr. Fowl's eyes lit up, "Of course." He hops out of his seat. He leans over and kisses his wife on the forehead before turning to Faith. "Shall we?"
"Yes…sir," Faith stammers. Mr. Fowl did not talk much during the dinner and that unnerves her.
The patriarch saunters around the table to the young woman, and offered his hand like he was going to dance with her. Faith accepts with a shy smile, and rose out of her seat. Artemis clings onto her other hand until Mr. Fowl leads Faith out. Artemis turns to see them go, and Mr. Fowl slinks his hand on her lower back. The door slams shut. Muscle under the genius' eye twitches.
Angeline wakes her son out his panic, "She is delightful! A little meek but lovely."
"Good to know," Artemis said dully as he eyed the door, aching to leave and go to the living room.
"And her outfit! It is to die for; it suits her."
"Uh-hmn," he agreed.
Angeline notices the lack of attention he was giving in the conversation. "What's wrong Arty? Miss her already?"
"No…well yes," Artemis rose out his seat, "I just think this conversation can be held later, the night is still young and we have a lot to discuss."
The matriarch narrowed her eyes at her son; she smirked. "Are you worried that your father is going to be too flirty with Faith. Don't worry he never means it when he flirts." She waved her hand and giggles.
"Wait you know about his flirtations," Artemis asks.
"Yeah we do it all the time, we even have game for it. At parties we have competition on how many people's phone numbers we get. I'm winning!"
"What...How…Why." His head was spinning with questions he was not sure wanted answer to. Artemis looked at his mother mortified; his picture of her was warped forever. "You go and flirt with other men in front of Father!"
"Actually I play both fields."
"Whhhhyyyyyy!"
Artemis Sr. led Faith to a glossy, dark blue faux leather couch. The young woman could not resist admiring the lounging room. Classic yet modern style with beautiful paintings outline in gold frames, intricate tapestries, and bouquets of flowers sitting in china vases.
Mr. Fowl went to the bar, and grabs a bottle of rum, "What's you drink? I think you're a martini type of gal but you can't always be so sure."
Faith stares at him doe-eyes, and chuckles nervously, "No thank you. I shouldn't."
"You're with me now. Think of me as the fun parent," Mr. Fowl winks at her, and starts making a martini. From the couch she could see it was not the typical dirty martini. Instead of murky clear, it was a pinkish red, and he adds cherries in the concoction. He pours himself a glass of bourbon. He handed the martini to Faith, "My special love portion," he winks at her. Faith accepts the glass and stares at the drink wide-eyes. "Thank you."
"Drink up," Mr. Fowl insists and sat next to her. She took a tiny sip and her eyes squeezes shut as the taste stung her tongue and trickles down her throat.
"Oh wow," she coughs, "That is strong." She heard the older man chuckles; it was robust and rich. Her cheeks began to heat up from embarrassment.
"The stronger the better," he sips his drink, eyeing her like a Roman sculpture. The young woman took a small sip then set the drink on the glass coffee table; her hands folds at her lap, and eyes were staring downward.
"So," he continues jovially, figuring she was not one to start conversations, "Arty told me something about you that I thought was interesting."
Her gaze darts up at the older man. She squeezes her hands in a taut ball on her thighs. "He has?"
"Yes," he smiles, "Arty mentions you lean toward the spiritual spectrum which is a funny pairing with my boy who values facts and knowledge."
Faith sighs in relief. "I was taught more than just languages in my family," she said, "They believe in a lot nonsense and tricks. Unfortunately I guess some of it stuck with me."
Mr. Fowl smoothly lifts her chin; his mature yet handsome face beams at her, "Believe me, I have seen and heard it all. What did they teach you?"
Pondering, Faith tried sort out the least ridiculous aspects her father's side of the family, especially her grandmother, has taught her. It was a narrow list to choose from and the top choice to show Mr. Fowl was a bit of a stretch. Oh boy…
"On the top of my head, palm reading."
"Palm reading," Mr. Fowl scoffs, "So you can tell the future just by reading hands."
"Not the future, but who you are, and who you were in the past."
Smirking, he offers his hand, "Can you read mine." His eyes were twinkling with intrigue. She was surprise at his openness and interest. Usually people blow it off and call it hogwash.
Her cheeks flushes, and shook her head, "I shouldn't its all nonsense, really."
"I insist," he teases and wiggles his fingers at her. Warily, she cradles his large hand. Mr. Fowl was not ghostly white compared to his eldest offspring. His complexion was a warm ivory tone given by not being trapped indoors. After his rescue from the Russian mafia, he grew a newfound appreciation for the outdoors. He now engages in physical activities such as running and sailing.
She gently stretches his fingers to a flatten position. Scars decorate his palm in short, ragged lines, and crisscrosses.
"Please excuse the scars," Mr. Fowl scoffs with a hint of embarrassment, "was in very rough spot years ago."
Gripping his hand, she massages his palm with the pad of her thumbs. "Trust me I've seen worst," she assures him as she did the ministrations. She closes her eyes and went silent.
"I thought the point of palm reading was to actually look at the palm," the older man questions.
"A legitimate reader never looks at the lines in the hand. They're useless and have no meaning. The real technique is to feel energy."
"If it's just energy, why the palm?"
Faith smiles softly. A certain Irish genius asks her the same question when she did a reading on him. "Eyes are gateways to the soul, but people are uncomfortable with staring into someone's eyes for a long time and blinking is a big problem. The palm is the most comfortable way of connecting to a person."
Mr. Fowl nods, "Makes sense."
Her thumbs smooth out his palm, searching for a connection. She does not do readings often, so she was rusty. To sense a person's spirit her mind has to be unguarded and free. Unlocking her mind, she hopes to find a spark that would check her inside his essence. There was disconnecting as she sought for a signal. A wall wedges between them. Mr. Fowl was guarding himself, presumably because of skepticism. Artemis was easier to read because his heart yearns for the young woman.
A habit of hers to better focus is to roll her shoulders. Her hand glides down from his fingers to the center of his palm. A small pulse emanates; water splashing and whimpering winds floods her ears. She found the sweet spot so she applies pressure on the palm like pressing the on button. The darkness ripples into a peaceful image of a cliff pressing against the sea, the water calm and shimmering, and the sun was partly covers by greyish white clouds.
"I see it," she announces.
Mr. Fowl leans forward, "What do you see?"
"A cliff, a calm ocean with the sun and grey clouds."
"I see, what does it mean?"
"The cliff means you are strong, grounded, and a leader. The calm ocean means you settled down or retired which is the opposite of Artemis."
"Really?"
Faith nods, "You and Artemis have the same spiritual setting: the cliff and ocean. But his ocean is violent which means he is young and ambitious. The sun and grey clouds mean you two have integrity, but suffer from misguidedness and have loose morals."
"When you're right, you're right," The older man chuckles, "Incredible. You have quite a gift." He pats her small hands.
"It's not a gift it's more like a skill," she murmurs.
"A very handy skill when you want to really know someone."
"I don't need it to know someone, I can just tell."
"Lovely and has a good sense of character. My boy definitely has the Fowl trait of picking the finest women," he said gleefully.
Faith blushes, "Artemis is a good man and I should thank you for that. It really is like father, like son."
Mr. Fowl half smiles; his eyes gazes down, " If you ask me, Arty would have been better off if he had his mother's good nature, and not the corruption from me."
"No," Faith protests, "I know you're good, and always have been, I see it. You just lost your way for a while, but you learned from your mistakes. That's one difference between you and Artemis. You learn your mistakes faster; he's so stubborn I don't know what to do sometimes."
"Stubbornness does run in the family. It's great to know I'm not the worst one," he rubbed his strong jaw and chuckled.
"Artemis has a quite a bit to learn from you."
"And one lesson is choosing the right mate, and he obviously passed. I find you very delightful and I welcome you into our family."
Faith's face lit up, and her eyes glistened. She could not believe that she actually won him over. The young woman imagined one hell of a fight to gain approval from at least one of Artemis's parents. It was almost too easy.
"But..."
She spoke to soon.
Artemis Sr. smirks at Faith's anxiousness. "Just promise me that we can be good friends."
Faith sighed in relief, "Of course, sir. You have my word."
"Please I insist you call me Timmy, now that we're friends," the older man winked.
"Yes…Timmy." It felt strange calling the patriarch by his pet name when they just met. Faith's cheeks glowed red.
"After a while, you will get used to it, but it does sound sweet when you say it." His large hand covered hers.
"There is one more thing before Arty and Angeline come in." His face was as devious as the devil himself. "About Arty…"
Faith's chest constricted; she prepared herself for whatever had in mind about Artemis. Was he going to warn her to never break his son's heart? Or forbid her from doing anything that would slander the family. Though she would never do either of the two.
"This gathering is going to continue way into the night and Arty hopes you would consider staying till the morning…"
"I would love you too, but I don't want to be a bother."
Timmy shook his head, and put his hand on her knee, "Nonsense, we sometimes have overnight guests, so we already have everything prepared…and you can spend more time with Arty."
Faith was still unsure to take the offer. She did not want to give the wrong impression or inconvenience the babysitter. Mr. Fowl pleadingly gazes at her and it added to the pressure. Refusing the offer would be rude and she was trying her best to please them. "If you insist, I'd love too."
Flashing his charming toothy grin, he grips her shoulder. "Good girl, Arty will be ecstatic." He raised his short glass of brandy high above his shoulder. "Let's have toast between us. Faith lifts her full glass with both hands; the glasses harmoniously clinked.
"To you, Faith Holloway for making my son a happy man, and the merging of our families."
"And to you, for not chasing me out," Faith joked for the first time. Warming up to them was easier than expected; she gaze at his starry sapphire orbs, and her face radiates. Timmy chuckles, and drains his brandy. Faith baby sips her martini.
"Timmy," Angeline chirps, the floor was clouds underneath her gliding feet. Timmy rises for his wife the moment she enters. Angeline latched onto his neck, and he spun her. Artemis followed; he was paler than usual, and gazes at the ground petrified. Faith rushes to him; she press her hands against his torso.
"You look like you seen a ghost," Faith whispers, she caresses his cheek.
"I…" Artemis drifted, his eyes zoned in on the floor. Faith directed his gaze to her; her eyes were worried and firm. She shakes and rubs his arm to snap him out him daze. Artemis squeezes his eyes shut, and pinches his nose. What has been heard can never be forgotten.
Artemis acknowledges Faith's diligence for his attention. Her ocean eyes washes through him. He strokes her cheek, and she keeps his hand against her warm skin.
Angeline and Timmy observe the two, and they smile at each.
Afterwards the festivities continued on. Timmy provided drinks for Angeline and Artemis. Angeline had a cocktail, and Artemis swapped his champagne with Faith's martini. The older couple mostly carried on the conversations and shares experiences of their long relationship. Faith was envious on their persistence and loyalty to each even when Mr. Fowl was gone. Angeline stayed faithful even when there was very little hope of her husband's survival.
"It's a wonderful thing to love someone more than yourself," Angeline smiled at Timmy. Their faces were mere centimeters apart from each other. In his eyes, Angeline is a neoclassical sculpture crafted from pure gold. Artemis blushes; the glances his father was giving to his mother was something he knew too well. Timmy murmured in her ear; she giggled like a schoolgirl. Luckily, Angeline blocks his lips from being seen by Artemis; therefore, he couldn't read his father's lips. But Artemis knew it was something perverted.
Faith rested her head on Artemis's arm. The disease of affection lingers in the air as she craved to be closer to Artemis and hoped he felt the same. She sniffed his scent and it was lovely fragrance of cologne and natural pheromones. Artemis rests his hand on her knee, and slyly traces the Chinese symbol of love.
Butler entered the room, and the intoxicating vibe was a strong haze. Clearing his throat, he broke the spell that fell over the couples. They turned to the burly man, and he bowed. "Sorry for the interruption again, but the caretaker had to return the twins. She said it was a family emergency."
"Oh dear," Angeline and Timmy sprung off the couch in sync.
"Those two should be off to bed if that's the case," Timmy said.
Butler scratched his shaved head, "Well…"
"Mom! Dad!" The door burst wide open, and a flash of blonde hair whizzed inside the living room. Raven hair followed, but definitely not as quick. Myles and Beckett bombarded their parents with hugs. Embracing their youngest children, they laugh heartily.
"The Nanny flacked on us," Beckett announces.
"Her sister is ill," Myles elaborated, "She sends her apologies for the abruptness of her abdication." He pushes up his black-framed glasses further up his nose.
"So we heard," Angeline strokes Myles' hair. "Tomorrow we'll pick out cards to send to her. But you two should be in bed it's late."
"But we just got here," Beckett whines.
"No excuse," Timmy said, "You two know no matter what the circumstance you still have to follow your bedtime."
"Daaddd!" Beckett pouts.
Myles rest his hand on Beckett's shoulder, "Allow me to do the talking. Father, as you well know, we are ten-years-old. We accept the fact that we still need a nanny despite our disagreement, but a curfew at our age is redundant."
Mr. Fowl smirks, and bends down to be eye-level with Myles, "That maybe true, but it changes nothing." He chuckles and ruffles his son's dark locks.
"You drive an impossible bargain," Myles groans.
"Myles. Beckett," Angeline chimes, "We love to spend time with you, but we have a very special guest with us."
The twins gaze at each other, then around the room in opposite directions. Myles was the one who spots Faith on the couch with Artemis first. The young boy caught a glimpse of her before Beckett spun around and knocks into Myles so hard his glasses flew off his face.
"Beckett," Myles yelps, and squints as the world around him became blurry. Beckett was silent, but a clanking noise scurries toward him, stops, and then began again. He heard someone take a loud breath, tiny clinks, and ruffling.
"Here you go," a sweet-sounding voice said. He felt someone put his glasses in his hand; Myles put his glasses on, and the vision of a young woman he never met before materializes. The boy blinks; he thought his imagination was playing tricks on him, but when the woman did not disappear he gasps.
The woman was nervous, but she smiles sweetly at him. The twins stare at the young woman like she was from different planet.
"Who are you," Beckett broke the silence.
"This is Arty's new girlfriend, Faith." Angeline informs them.
Artemis came up from behind Faith, he rests his hands on her shoulders, "You probably already guesses it, but these are my brothers Myles and Beckett."
"Hello," Faith greets and reaches out her hand, "I'm so happy to finally meet you."
The twins silently shook hands with Faith. Beckett's handshake was quick and brass, while Myles was slow and delicate. The raven-haired twin stares at Faith more intently than his brother.
"Wipe the drool from your mouth and say hello," Timmy teases.
"Hi," Beckett said while wiping his nose.
"Hello," Myles said, "I can't help but notice, but are you American?"
"Guilty," Faith jokes.
Beckett's blue eyes widen, "Seriously? What part?"
Faith scratches the tip of nose in embarrassment, "Rural part of South Carolina. Not very exciting I'm afraid."
"Cool. What'd you do there?"
Faith hums, "Not a lot except climb a lot of trees."
"You like to climb trees," Beckett bursts out.
"I was the tree climbing master," Faith smirks.
"Bet I can take you," Beckett challenges.
"I wouldn't do that if I was you," Artemis warns lightheartedly, "She's more skilled than you think.
"We'll see about that," Beckett crosses his arms, "Next time it's a competition."
"Anytime, anywhere." Faith poses with her hands on her hips.
"It's a deal," Beckett shakes hands with her.
"Are you lactose intolerant," Faith asks.
Beckett shook his head. She winks at him, "Good, because the looser buys the winner a sundae."
The blonde boy hops and yelps, "Now it's definitely on!"
"Glad you're getting along already," Angeline smiles, "But its time for bed."
Beckett groans while Myles was still staring at Faith. Angeline steers them to Butler.
"Oh wait Myles," Faith calls.
Myles dodges away from his mother at the sound of the woman calling his name. His eyes gleams at Faith, "Yes, my lad…I mean, Faith."
"I hear you have a passion for science, right?"
"Yes, very much."
"I just happen to have the best experience in it from your big brother. After I beat Beckett at tree climbing, we can do an experiment, and then we can all go out for ice cream. What do you say?"
Myles smiles at her, "Yes, I would enjoy that very much."
Faith winks at him, "Then we have a deal."
Myles stares at her in amazement; the touch of his mother tugging him was faint.
"Come on, love. Off to bed." Angeline allows Butler to handle them, and he wraps his muscular arm around their small necks and led them out. After they were gone, Artemis spun Faith by her shoulders and kisses her. It was not heavy, but he made sure she tastes his love as well as his pride for her. His parents did not notice as they jokingly complain about the twins.
"Arty wasn't kidding when he said you're a wonder with children," Timmy turns to Faith, "You handles them quite well."
"I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries," Faith said, Artemis's hand scale up and down her back.
"Nonsense," Angeline waves her hand, "You just us gave one-day break for the rest of us. Those two are quite the handful."
"They don't seem too bad," Faith chuckles.
"When you visit us more often you'll see what we mean." The Fowls sigh harmoniously, and then chuckles amongst themselves.
After the laughter died down, Timmy smirks at Artemis. "Did Faith tell you the good news?"
The Irish genius shifts his eyes back and forth between his father and Faith, "No. What good news."
"Your father convinced me to stay over for the night," Faith answers, she latches onto his arm.
Artemis lowers himself to be down to her level, his eyes shone with excitement, "You changed your mind?"
Faith strokes his hair, "Yes." She leans down and whispers, "You can have me all to yourself." Artemis's lips curl upward mischievously. Finally.
Angeline clasps and chirps, "Splendid. Arty needs you in his bed, then maybe he'll be less moody."
Timmy threw his arm around Angeline's shoulder and roars with laughter against her hair. Faith clamps her hand over mouth to silence her fit of giggles. A temple throbs in his forehead, and groan. Angeline aw at her son's defensiveness and pinches both his cheeks, and kisses his forehead. "You know I'm right," she murmurs in his ear.
"I am not moody," Artemis mutters. The cold tone did not help his case. The entire room busts out in a fit of giggles
Thanks for reading, please comment, follow and favorite if you liked it even a tiny bit.
I'm sorry that I can't upload chapters faster, but I'm a broke film student and anyone in college knows how that shit goes. I am going to try to finish this story faster, because I have other stories for Artemis Fowl that I am foaming at the mouth to get started on.
Lastly, it would be awesome to get feedback on my OC, Faith as the story progresses. She's my experimental baby, and I'm trying to exercise my skills in creating good characters from what I researched from writing sources. Hopefully, I'm not fucking everything up.
~Until next time~
