Anywho.. BLUEJAY'S POV!
Sulking isn't good for my handsome figure. Bluejay reflected on his slouching seat in the cell. He was basically having a one-sided conversation in his mind. I should not submit myself to have a hump on my back like an old man. I'm 28 for God's sake! I should be striding in confidence and winking at swooning girl's in my wake! .. But where would I be striding? I have no where to go. There are no swooning girls at the moment either.
He sighed. I want some swooning girls. PRONTO!
"Why can't I have some fuckin' swooning girls for fu--"
"Watch your language." The girl's voice came from seemingly no where. It was sweet and comforting to Bluejay.. Until he registered what she was telling him. "And what kind of slut would swoon? Ugh.. Men are such conceited pigs sometimes. I shouldn't break you out for that, but I will just because Fartface needs some guidance. Serious guidance."
"Are you insulting me and saving me at the same time?"
"I s'pose."
She finally came from the darkness and the shadows past over her fierce expression. Her hair, obsidian and shimmering blue in the moonlight that shot through the window was strewn across her face. Her eyes were darkly glimmering tawny like a tiger's. The glare in them matched.
"Corey?"
"Thanks for the introduction." she muttered sarcastically.
He looked at her hard. There was something about her. She looked so grown up.
"Just how old are you?" he demanded.
"19."
Jeez. Bluejay had expected 15 or maybe 16. But 19? Fleetfoot would be surprised by that one. Fleetfoot was about 15 maybe, seeing as the boy lost certain count. At least he was a boy to Bluejay in his almost 30 glory. But Corey? She had the angelic features of just a kid, but now in the dark of the cell he saw her maturity in her eyes.
"Yeah. Figured that."
She snorted. "Liar. I look like I'm same as Fleetfoot."
"Well.." He didn't exactly feel up to keeping up the awkward conversation. He looked her up and down and a certain sense of tensing up. She made him feel exposed. He quickly changed the subject in fear of his own feelings. "Why'd you come hear anyways? You should've gone to the Prince!"
"I couldn't have gotten past the guards. I jumped a maid and stole her clothes and watched them take you away. Then I followed, knowing you'd know what to do."
He grinned. "Of course I do!"
She rolled her eyes. Then tugged in annoyance at the maid's outfit which was simple linen, ripped and frayed at the bottom. It was obviously two times too big. "I'm sure," she said doubtfully. "Look-- I wanna change out of this crap. Turn about."
SHE'S TAKING OFF HER CLOTHES BEHIND MY BACK! He gulped. Why did he feel like such a buffoon? He turned around and waited a moment. A few shuffles, impure thoughts, and blushes later, Bluejay was allowed to turn around. She now stood in black as he did. She smiled coyly. "Ready for stealth?"
He looked nervously down at her hip-hugging pants and inwardly smacked himself for what he was thinking about..
"Er…."
A/N: For the dim-witted of my readers, it's called "sexual tension". Ohlala! Heehee. I'm sorry. Ginny cannot survive a story with out a sub-love-plot.