The Whispering

Chapter Three

"Mark Twain."

A small gasp escapes my lips as I spin on my bare heels to find two new men standing a few feet behind me.

The closest to me has this aristocratic air surrounding him with his black tailored suit and perfect posture. While his friend could only be described as laid back with dark wash jeans and a purple button-up shirt.

Wow, I guess opposites really do attract.

I'm kind of just stuck gawking at them, trying to figure out what transpired to bring them together. Then Mr. Perfect takes a step forward which breaks me from my trance. I jerk away from him, causing my bare feet to painfully scrape across the concrete pathway. I bite down on my low lip to keep the grimace from showing on my face as I quickly scan for an escape route.

"My apologizes." Mr. Perfect's soothing voice pulls my panicked attention back to him. "We didn't mean to frighten you." He holds his hands up in that universal 'I mean no harm' gesture and takes one more step closer to me to bring himself into the light coming from the open front door.

I'm not surprised to see that his features are just as perfect as the way he holds himself, but meeting his hard steel eyes hiding behind dark rim glasses allows me to see that he isn't all that perfect.

He hides his emotions better than I do but that just means he's has something to hide, I think as his friend steps forward to join him. I can't say the same about Mr. Happy here. Not one ounce of his emotions are locked up inside his bright green eyes, and I find myself fighting off a smile that wants to answer his own.

I've always thought that 'contagious smiles' where just exaggerations authors use to spice up their characters but actually meeting someone with that ability is starting to make me feel weird.

I can't remember the last time my smile was anything other than artificial to fool sociality into believing I'm normal. Now, I have to fight with a surprisingly large amount of willpower to keep my face passive as I divide my attention between the two men.

"We were told a cute little Pookie needed medical assistance," Mr. Happy announces as he flings his arm around his perfect friend, "but it looks like we're a tad late, huh, Owen?" By the way Owen's steel eyes cut over to his companion, I can guess he doesn't like others using his first name, and I file that knowledge away for later.

I definitely don't want to be at the receiving end of those eyes.

"Oy!" I jump at the sudden shout and turn to see Blue Eyes standing in the doorway with his wispy spirit flying in a tiny figure-eight above his head. "Don't go scaring her off."

"If anyones scaring her off it's you and you're yelling, Gabe," Mr. Happy says as he gives Owen one of those man pats on his back before stepping away from him. I'm relieved to see that he creates a wide arch as he passes by me to head toward the door. It's like he can feel how tense I am and doesn't want to push my limits.

Which is kind of weird. I warily watch as Happy approaches Blue Eyes, or I guess Gabe, and ruffles the black beanie I've failed to notice him wearing before continuing inside.

"Thanks, Asshat," Gabe scoffs as his rich brown hair slips from under the beanie. The women's spirit giggles from above his head as she watches Gabe attempt to fix the mess, only for more hair to escape the sides, forcing him to give up. He huffs as he yanks it off, and I'm surprised to see the hair around his face dyed blonde.

My eyes briefly lift up to the spirit, mentally comparing the color to her own, but quickly force myself to look away before the two guys see me acting weird.