𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐇|✔︎

𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑦

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"If you say you're cooler than me, does that mean I'm hotter than you? Nice."

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"I'm still waiting to know how the fuck do you know where I live." I grumbled annoyingly at the tattooed son of a bitch who stood behind me with crossed arms, emitting with reeking powers off of his aura like it was his cologne, while his fiery brown eyes narrowed right down at me from behind, while I was too busy jiggling the keys to my apartment and to open the door before entering swiftly.

"And I'm still waiting for when you will tell me your fucking name." He shot back logically, leaving me speechless because he did kind of had a point, making me glare at him as a defence mechanism, and I tossed my keys on the coffee table and instantly went and jumped on the bed with no remorse.

He's been acting really eccentric ever since we decided to leave the vicinity of the empty and boring streets downstairs, miraculously making Balthazar convince me that I should actually allow them in my apartment without any resentment because Zenith wanted to grace me home with his lovely presence, which I obviously was skeptical about, seemingly because only Agatha and the landlord were approved by me to be around my personal belongings for obvious reasons.

But I kind of owe them to be honest, after all, they both did save me from shitty men who didn't think twice about taking advantage of me in a heartbeat, but I couldn't get many things into my head. Ever since Balthazar told Zenith that I was a stripper, it was like I was carrying the anger of Godzilla on my shoulders with him stomping around like a bratty kid. He was absolutely furious about it for no reason at all, and would occasionally talk to himself about being reluctant on murdering everyone in the strip club with a psychopathic urge, but why the heck does it have to do with me? I'm a stripper with many reasons, maybe he has a distaste towards strippers in general, which is why he just stares at me for a few seconds, before shaking his head and snarling to himself in sorrow.

Narrow minded bum.

Finally happily greeted by the best covers of the world, budding my hardly earned long loving duvet close to me on the bed, while I melted in the good scent of vanilla that was my natural perfume, and smiling to myself with the warmth it brought was the first thing I needed after a whole crazy day d rolled coasteering emotions. It was like a whirlpool of comfort that was being given on my bed, and I will shamelessly admit the fact that Zenith's jacket's scent was mixed with my own scent, creating heaven for me because unfortunately he smells way too good for my sanity.

"Yeah okay, make yourself very comfortable. It's not like someone is in your house and you have guests to tend to, such amazing manners you possess, I'm impressed." The devil himself retorted sarcastically with a whiny voice that sounded hilarious, while I groaned into my sheets and stopped myself from giggling then and there, and looked at him upside down.

"It's my damn house asshole, I'll do whatever I want." I hissed while stating the absolute obvious, as he rolled his eyes in defeat, proceeding to roll his sleeves of the shirt that he was wearing underneath, only to reveal his beautiful tattoos lining all his cells and tissue, and I shamelessly gaped at him with a twinkling pair of eyes.

Finally when we were out of the dark alley after two very bombarding occasions of meeting in the middle of the night, and I was actually able to see him and Balthazar clearly in my home lighting, making all the ink in his body leading to his neck visible with his shining lip piercing that he would occasionally bite, while his nice friend looked like the complete opposite of him.