As We Burn

Three.

The exhaustion I feel is replaced with adrenaline for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. I grab my phone, quickly slip my smokey clothes back on, and wander out into the dark living room. My bare feet echo as they tap across the cool wood floor. Approaching the front door slowly, I jump when I hear a deep voice.

"Shit!" A male voice gasps.

I walk to the side of the front door, and look out onto the stone pathway from the window. One of the plant pots seems to be shattered over the walkway, and I'm able to look just far enough to the doorstep to see a white long sleeve shirt and tattooed hands fumbling for keys. Crispen? I thought he would be gone for the night...

I turn on the living room lamp and head back to the front door, opening it carefully. A pair of bright icy eyes I've seen too many times already today stare at me in shock.

"Who the fuck are you?" the boy demands obnoxiously. For a second, I'm in shock, too. First, at his cursing, and then by his appearance. The photographs didn't do him justice - dark blonde curls fall down his forehead and over his ears, framing his sharp jawline. The buttons on his expensive looking shirt are half undone, exposing his tan collarbones decorated with several silver chains that disappear down his chest. One of the chains displays a crystalline snake pendant that sparkles under the porch lights. Even though he's a step below the doorway, he still stands taller than me, his long legs sporting ripped black jeans.

"I-I live here," I choke out. I'm embarrassed by how quiet and stuttered the words come out.

"Oh fuck, you're that rich dude's brother, aren't you? I forgot that was today," he grumbles, his long lashed, hooded eyes scanning me from head to toe.

I nod, squirming under his scrutiny. "His name is Elliot, and I'm Parker," I correct, mustering up some confidence. Nice to meet you too.

"I knocked over one of the flower things, but I'm sure you can find a broom around somewhere," he says, ignoring me. Excuse me? I want to snap. I almost flinch as he walks up the step and passes right by me into the house, his bare chest almost brushing my chin. The sandalwood scent from his bedroom is strong as he passes, and his proximity sends an unusual feeling of electricity over me. The dark ruby red eyes of the serpent pendant on his necklace stare into my own. Elliot didn't tell me my housemate was so arrogant. He may have a pretty face, but the superiority dripping off of him is beginning to spoil it.

I shut the door, lock it, and turn around.

"Elliot said you'd be gone for a while," I prod, folding my arms across my chest.

"I was. Now I'm back."

"Lucky me," I say sarcastically, surprised the words actually leave my mouth.

Crispen's head turns back towards me, and I can tell he's surprised, too. His hooded eyes look me up and down once more, and I'm suddenly self-conscious about my disheveled appearance. When he looks away, I quickly pat my hair down and adjust my shirt.

"Is something burning?" he asks, circling the kitchen counter, flaring his nostrils like some bloodthirsty animal. His turned head exposes several metal rings pierced down the side of his ear.

"Oh, it's probably me - well, my clothes. There was a fire just down the street-"

"Anything to eat here?" he interrupts, ignoring what I said and reaching for the fridge door. He's starting to really piss me off. Who the hell does he think he is?

The kitchen light glimmers off of the array rings adorned on his fingers. He's quite the fan of jewelry, it seems. That's when I notice the red gash on the top of his hand, little streams of blood running down it.