My Sweet Tooth VS Thier Craving For Flesh

XI ; Something French

I never thought about being back in the city, not willingly at least, and certainly not with the same eyeliner-wearing emo boy who's in some way definitely deranged.

It's sunny out, and I Thank God for the world ending in summer, even though I'm outraged for it ending at all, and it is slightly too warm for my taste.

His backpack's luminant fabric blinds me. This annoys me further and tempts me to grunt, "you know if you did not want to come with, then why are you here, Mademoiselle?" I don't answer the English-speaking Frenchman, and I know I'm being rude, BUT; I'm hot and bothered right now. "Andie is angry, is she?" Campion asks in response.

"Angry? I'm not angry. Why would I be, not when your only family left on this stinking earth doesn't come to say goodbye even though it might be our last. Or when the persistent crying girl shoves a gingered, reeking fleabag in your face, and it claws its way away, a key example of one fatal 'hug'. And certainly not when the stupid Sergeant allows that stupid boy to bring that stupid yellow backpack with stupid patterned lightning bolts on-" I gasp and shut my mouth closed. "I'm good," I say to him snappily in the hope he doesn't have a response because he hadn't understood a single sentence of my frustrated rambles.

"You, you obsessed with yellow man, yes?"

"No!" I almost shriek, "as if." That's his conclusion? A scientist, you say...

"You like the eyeliner?" Campion asks with his eyebrows raised, and I swear there's a smirk on his face.

"Okay, Mister, keep your French humour to yourself."

"It is universal, my dear. And one cannot deny the attraction in the eyes, for it is the eyes of love-"

"Shut it!" Nyx yells, and Campion and I refuse to do anything else but obey because the look on her face tells us she's more annoyed than I am. She places her eyes back on the road ahead.

Campion's eyes are wide, "exquisite, but frightening." He confirms that I'm not the only one who fears her.

We've been in the city for about five hours and Campion, as intelligent as he is, is equally annoying. The sweat drips down his face, allowing his nerdy glasses to slip further down his nose every five minutes, so I hand him a napkin. I don't think a scientist was made for this sort of journey. "Mademoiselle, when the world begins again, I plan to drink beers and fine wine, French of course, only the best wine..." He says this while closing his eyes and, I assume, imagining the taste of those.

"Campion drinks?" I question.

"She does not?" He asks about me.

"My dad never allowed me."

"You are of the age, no?" He asks with a surprised face, and I wonder whether I look like someone who drinks alcohol regularly.

"Yes."

"Then we drink." He pulls out a flask, and my mouth hangs wide open. "Go on, it's Hennessy, only the best for madame."

Is this dude for real?

"No, No, No, thank you..." I say almost hesitantly. I mean, a sip wouldn't hurt, "No, thank you," my final answer. He shrugs his shoulders and looks to the Sergeant and Nyx, who walks ahead and takes a sip. "Makes insides warm," he smiles with red cheeks.

I look forward, ignoring his cheery smile, and my eyes go on to catch Yellow's calm figure. I can only see the back of his head, and his messy hair seems to have grown since the first time I've seen it. Despite the heat, he wears a grey hoodie and long sweatpants. He walks on slowly and begins to kick the pebbles below his feet. He and the Sergeant continue to keep the conversation flowing between them. Which is odd when you consider his weirdness and the Sergeant's absolute solemnity.