The Puppet Assassin [TTR sequel]

The Puppet Assassin - Ch 9 [distressed -|- dizelde]

I blinked, not knowing whether to take this as an insult or a compliment.

"I'll let you get settled," he said, opening the door to my new room.

It wasn't huge, but I didn't need huge. The bed was a double with cotton sheets and a navy quilt. It looked comfortable and that was all I needed in a bed. The screen was a better size than the one in the living room and was attached to the wall opposite the bed. A desk sat near the door, the TV-comp remote sitting on it. I grabbed it, pressed the power button and sat on the edge of the bed. I wasn't particularly interested in watching anything but I wasn't interested in standing there like a dumbass either.

I jumped up as the door opened and Larkin stepped inside. He was holding a glass of water that had a suspicious bluey-green tinge. He held it out towards me. I kept my hands by my sides. I wasn't liking the fact that he was alone in the room with me. Despite my lack of energy and the harrowing events of the past twenty-four hours, he still made me nervous and I still got flashes of his bare... muscles.

"Take it. It's got electrolytes, it'll give you a bit more energy."

I took it, still hesitant, and peered at it. It was fizzing slightly.

"Trust me. Drink it."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, don't trust me. But drink it. It's not like I'm going to try to poison you."

I screwed up my nose, hoping that this wouldn't taste like any of those medicines I'd had as a kid, and gulped it down. It actually tasted good, like limes. I offered the glass back to him. He took it and placed it on the desk. I stared at it and then looked back to him. He was watching the TV, his arms folded.

"The life and times of Madonna? Seriously? I'd never have pinned you as a fan of that old pop singer."

I glanced at the screen where an image of a retro concert was playing across it. "I just turned it on."

Without asking, he reached over and grabbed the remote, typing in a channel. The image changed to show a sport being played. At first I thought it was soccer but then one of the players kicked the ball up and started running with it.

"What is this?" I asked, tilting my head. The guy bouncing the ball was chased down by someone else, making him kick the ball away. Another player on the same team caught it and kicked it through two posts. There was a bar a few metres above the ground, attached to both poles, making what looked like a soccer goal.

I glanced over to Larkin, realising he hadn't answered me and did a double take when I saw that he was gaping at me.

"You don't... know... football?"

It seemed that I'd admitted to a great offense. I frowned. "I know football. That's not football." I pointed to the screen. "Otherwise there'd be like fifty handballs being called."

He pursed his lips, squeezed his eyes shut and opened them. "It's Gaelic football. And if you're going to live in this house, you better learn what it is, and how much better it is than poncy 'soccer'."

I guess he liked Gaelic football. As I watched, one of the men from the red team tackled a green player, bumping him to the ground. I considered Larkin's athletic appearance and then turned back to him. "You play this don't you?"

He gave me a big fake smile. "Yeah, I play. I'm centre half-forward for Dublin in the National Football League."

I tightened my lips together. He must be a pretty good player then. I didn't mind watching sport but at the moment I preferred not to concentrate on anything and a game that I didn't know the rules of would need a lot of concentration. But I couldn't change the channel while he was in here. To my annoyance, he rolled the chair away from the desk and settled down to watch. I breathed deeply to calm myself. Couldn't he go watch on his massive TV?

"Is there a reason you're staying in my room?" I said irritably.

He tore his gaze off the game and smirked. "Yeah."

"And that is?"

"Well, first thing Liam tells me..."

He stopped when I gave him a confused look.

"Liam's the guy that came with the chic."

"Oh." The scary guy.

"Anyway, first thing he tells me is that I can't go into your room."

I stared at him dumbly. "...and you have a problem with being told what to do...?"

He pretended to think about it. "Yep."

______________________________________________

Ah I wish that they were staying in Australia so that I could have made Larkin play Aussie Rules football but Gaelic football is slightly similar... a different ball, a few different rules. It's kinda like Aussie footy and soccer combined. That's right, I said soccer, get over it poms.

I've attached a YouTube video with some of the best goals of all time.... according to some random. The views pretty blurry but I liked the song so I stuck to it.

It is one of my favourite 'hobby' sports, along with European handball [lol, I love ditching that rock-like ball at the goalkeeper while I'm jumping towards them and about two metres away... and now you know I'm violently aggressive ;)]