Words are like bullets,
And they kill as good as any gun.
Chapter Two: The Devil's Awakening
"...I never thought you'd leave me like this,"
You tossed Alfred a puzzled look, "You... Y-You're acting so dramatic."
He grinned. "Haha, I know. I'm just..." He shrugged, glanced away, and let out a sigh. "I just can't believe you're leaving."
You felt yet another pain in your chest. Alfred had been mostly himself the whole day, until tonight. He'd known since yesterday that you were moving away; but since this night fell, he'd begun acting even more visually saddened over it.
You eyed him, heart throbbing. You hadn't expected him to get this upset over you leaving. He was normally so charismatic and positive.
You were both sitting on your bed, cross-legged, facing each other. It was around midnight, and your family was asleep. Henry and Lauren had allowed Alfred to help with the packing-probably just for the free assistance rather than giving you the pleasure of his presence. After all, they hadn't let you have friends over for a long time. It was painful mainly because Alfred was your only friend and you weren't able to see him outside of school.
Tomorrow was moving day. Alfred had to sneak in from your window to get inside, since your parents had tried to make him leave at around seven in the evening. But as your only good friend, he wouldn't allow them to cut short your time with him.
"I just wanted a real goodbye." He'd said.
And now here you were, exchanging one of your last conversations with him as San Diego residents. "I might have told you this earlier, but I know where you're moving. My grandparents live near Houston too. As soon as you move in, I can have a friend of mine come help you guys unpack." He was smiling now, eager to help you in any way he could-even if it meant contacting someone far away to do it in his place.
Your eyes widened, "Oh-no, you don't have to do that."
He nodded, a cheery grin on his face. "But I want to! And besides, I know he'll be okay with it. He doesn't live that far from my grandparents' house. I'll ask him to bring some of his friends along to help too."
...Why can't more people be as kind as him? "Alfred..." You smiled back, grateful. "Thanks."
He waved it off, "No prob! The guy's really cool. But..." He began to trail off, rubbing the back of his neck. "...he's sort of creepy..."
You chuckled, "How creepy can he be?"
He looked back up, blue eyes widened. "Really creepy! But... totally nice. He's this Chinese kid with weird eyes."
"Weird eyes? Alfred, is it because he's Chinese?"
Shocked by your question, he added, "No, it's nothing like that! His eyes are just colored weird!"
You grinned, "...Okay then. A creepy Chinese guy with weird-colored eyes will be helping us unpack, cool." You said it jokingly, but were still appreciative.
He laughed, "Yeah, yeah. You'll see. But anyway... summer will be here soon. I can totally visit my grandparents and come see you guys while I'm there. Maybe even stay in good ol'Texas for a week or two. And we can catch up on whatever I've missed~!" He gave you a wink, elbows resting on his knees.
You nodded happily, "Yeah! That would be great."... I already miss you so much. What will school be like without you? In Texas?
He gave you a soft, sad little smile. His cerulean blue irises met your own, and he quietly told you, "_____... you'll always be my best friend. I'll miss you."
You felt your eyes sting with tears. "Alfred..." The beating of your heart felt like a drum. You could barely hold your feelings in.
Mattress creaking, you got onto your knees and moved forward to embrace him. "I'll miss you too." You wrapped your arms around his neck, fluttered your eyelids closed, and let yourself rest there for a moment.
Both still sitting upon the bed, you enveloped him in a nice, long, lingering hug.
It made the two of you feel safe, secure; as though nothing could ever break your close bond.
Little did you know, the arising darkness would majorly put your relationship to the test.
His shoulders in which your forearms rested upon felt strong and comforting. The strands of his caramel-blonde hair tickled your cheek. Tightening your arms around his neck, the natural scent of him wafted up to your senses-he smelled of sweet chocolate. Inhaling deeply, you nuzzled your face into the warm crook of his neck, chests pressed tightly together.
His protective embrace gave you the reassurance you needed. You didn't even mind when you realized that you were practically in his lap. Soon, the muscles in your hips gave out, and slowly caused you to fall over him. The bed creaked as your form did so, but you kept your face buried into his tender skin and soft-as-silk hair.
As he leaned back, his head landed on a pillow, and he rubbed soothing circles down your back. His face pressed to the top of your head, you felt the tickling of his warm breath between the strands of your hair.
You never thought you could feel more bliss or comfort than you did at this very moment. The intimate embrace didn't even feel awkward or embarrassing-it felt like the loving arms of a dear friend and nothing more.
Alfred more than welcomed the hug. He'd let out a deep breath and relaxed as soon as you'd fallen on top of him. He'd never felt so close to you; the contact made him happy.
Neither you nor Alfred knew how much time had passed. Although, tonight would be the last time he held you in his arms.
...For all you knew, at least.
-D-E-A-D-L-Y-A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N-
The next morning was rushed, stressful, and heartbreaking.
Henry and Lauren's harsh commands were sharp, quick. They wanted to leave as soon as possible.
You were demanded to wake up at five in the morning and help load up the moving truck. Lauren tried to wake up Peter to help, but you didn't allow her to. The poor boy needed his sleep. Instead, you told her that you'd work extra hard in his place.
To which she scoffed, "You? Work hard? I'd like to see you try."
She'd left the room before you could respond. But, you didn't let it bother you. At least Peter got his rest-and that was all you were aiming for.
After about an hour, everything was inside the moving truck, and your screwed-up family was on the road to slumtown.
Well, maybe not, you tried to convince yourself. Texas might be nice, but I don't know if this particular town will be.
And you were right.
After five agonizing days, Henry finally announced that you were getting close.
"Huh? This is where we're gonna live?" Peter questioned, staring out the car's window as small, nearly fallen apart houses passed by. They were all placed closely together, and most were so run-down that the creme-colored paintjobs were peeling off. There were no plants in sight-in their places were dried-up weeds and thin, bare branches. All the yards were full of either dirt or dead grass. Many of the silver barbed-wire fences were falling down or even broken. Every house looked exactly the same as the last-save for maybe a few with American flags or wilting basketball hoops.
"Yep, this is it," Henry announced. He turned a corner, "Our place is number 1725. Look for it on this street."
As soon as he turned, you caught sight of a certain house with a yard that... overshadowed all the others. "Wow... I feel bad for whoever's house that is." You thought aloud.
Peter looked out your window, and his blue eyes slowly widened, "Whoaaaa. Yeah, me too. I feel bad."
This particular house had a much bigger yard than the rest. Although, the space was used up entirely. Every last square inch. The yard alone looked like it belonged on the TV show Hoarders or something.
Henry nodded. "Yeah. I feel bad for us too."
Your heart instantly sped up. Chills ran down your spine. With a shaky voice, you slowly asked, "...What did you say?"
Turning around in her seat, Lauren faced you and hissed, "This is all we can afford. It was cheaper to get this house than any others with a normal yard. We have to clean it out ourselves."
You were silent for a moment. You were going to live in this place?
There were heaps of junk everywhere. Literally piles of nothing but broken appliances-dishwashers, laundry driers, refrigerators even, and more. You basically couldn't see the ground with all the trash littered across the lawn. There were even a few filthy, cobweb-covered boats and half taken-apart cars lying around. Countless empty boxes, dirty children's toys, and molding garbage cans were spread over the place. Weeds were growing in every corner. Shattered glass, wadded-up balls of muddied clothes, and empty beer cans were strewn all over the barely-visible walkways. Lastly, sharp pieces of wooden beams and dented flower pots with nothing but dried-up mulch lined up near the almost nonexistent driveway.
You didn't have the time to take it all in. Before you could even utter a sound, Henry and Lauren had exited the car and begun unloading from the U-Haul, shouting for you to 'get your ass out there'.
"D-Do I have to help too?" Peter asked, still buckled into his booster seat; as if it would protect him from the horrible outside world.
"No, you don't." You answered quickly, unraveling your seatbelt. As a previous rich kid, you were still in shock. The past few years of your life had been lived in physical luxury-enormous mansion, maid staff, kitchen staff, in-home theater and all.
About half an hour later, you were still struggling to carry boxes through the disastrous yard into the tiny-but-somehow-clean house. It wasn't exactly spotless, but at least it wasn't filthy.
It had two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, a small living room, and no real hallway. Funny, you remembered literally running down hallways at your previous house.
As you were returning to the large rental truck-Lauren inside the house and Henry somewhere inside the vehicle-you happened to notice a group of young men walking down the sidewalk. Towards your house. And upon closer inspection, one of them appeared to be pointing at you.
"Um, hello..." You mumbled-almost like a question-as they got within hearing distance.
They walked directly over to you; it was a group of three. They actually looked around the ages of sixteen or seventeen. "Ni hao! Are you _____?"
Your eyes widened in surprise, "Oh, yeah. That's me. Who are you?"
The one who had spoken tilted his head in confusion, "I'm Zao. Aren't you a friend of Alfred's?"
Your heart instantly began pounding. Wait, how does he know Alfred? How does he know me? And why are they-OH WAIT. "Oh, you're that creepy Chinese guy!" You recalled, without thinking it through.
He instantly grimaced, "Excuse me?"
You clamped your hand over your mouth in total mortification. Meanwhile, his two friends nearly lost it in their laughter.
Zao instantly looked down-black military cap shading his eyes-and clenched his teeth. "You'll pay for that later, eru..." He hissed out, hands in fists.
You hoped you weren't blushing. "Haha, sorry. It's just Alfred explained you to me as 'that creepy Chinese guy with weird-colored eyes'." You silently hoped Zao was friendly enough with him to laugh off his... 'amazing' description. If he wasn't... well, you hoped Alfred wouldn't kill you for selling him out.
Zao looked back up, and tried to smile. But it came out visibly forced. You noticed his eyes were indeed strange-the color of crimson. "Alright then. So he asked me to help you guys clean up the place. I know it's bad, but three more pairs of hands could still help, y'know? I thought we might as well do this as a welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of thing. I live right over there," He pointed a few houses down, and then looked back to you. "I brought some friends with me because, uh..." He gestured towards the substantial mess, and you already knew he needn't say more.
"Oh, okay. Thanks..." Henry and Lauren would be thrilled for the free help.
"These guys live around here too. Say hi to the new girl~" He teased, and moved out of the way so they could introduce themselves.
One of them happily bounced up to you, "'Ello, 'ello poppet! Mr. Oliver is here for assistance~!"
Oh god, this guy though. What the fuck? He was colorful as hell. Strawberry-blonde hair, sky-blue eyes with neon-pink swirls around the irises, huge cerulean bowtie and a cotton-candy pink vest over a white dress shirt. Kind of cute, in his own sort of circus-esque way.
You responded with "Nice to meet you," To which he gleefully nodded and clasped his hands together.
Zao's clothes were quite different in comparison to Oliver's. Instead, he looked more like a druggie rather than a cake-baker or something. He was wearing a red wide-sleeved, black-trimmed shirt with a high collar; it was zipped down to reveal his collar bone and upper chest. Over his head was the black military cap you'd noticed earlier. "Allen, be nice to girls~" He warned the other friend.
As he spoke, you turned to face the third member. Unlike Zao and Oliver, he didn't look exactly happy to be here.
"Hm?" He glanced in your general direction, and that was when you saw it.
The fucking resemblance.
Of the seven billion other people on Earth, you just had to find someone who looked just... like... Alfred.
Although, you had to admit, his... colors weren't exactly the same. But, his face. His hair. His body. They all reminded you of Alfred. This guy's hair fell to the right side of his face, but instead, it was the color of dark chocolate. His eyes weren't blue as the ocean or rounded. They were thinner, his blood-red eyes framed in the darkness of his lashes. Tanned skin and black sunglasses also gave him a difference.
"Oh? Like what you see, dollface?" He teased, a smirk on his soft-appearing lips.
You instantly broke out of your trance, "Y-You just remind me of someone I know."
Zao laughed, "Tell me about it. I don't know why I haven't introduced him to Alfred yet."
Afterwards, you got back to work. Zao had gone to Henry and asked for the okay, to which he responded with "Of course," as expected. Henry would never turn down free labor.
Oliver was inside the house assisting Lauren with unpacking the kitchen. Peter was playing by himself in his (also your) new room; he'd gotten out his toy ships. Zao was carrying the last of the furniture inside with Henry as you began on Henry's orders for the yard. "Best to start now," he'd said. At least he wasn't making you do too much today. After you were done picking up the empty beer cans-Lauren had instantly decided to recycle them for money-Henry had said you could start unpacking your room.
"This is gross..." You thought aloud as some ancient beer-smelling liquid oozed down your wrists. With a sigh, you threw more cans into the big plastic bag around your elbow. As you turned to shuffle through another part of the maze-like yard, a person suddenly appeared from behind a mountain of dented lawn chairs and spider-filled kiddy pools.
"Havin' fun there?" Allen joked.
You jumped in surprise, "Hey-you scared me."
He chuckled. "You must be easy to scare."
With a shrug, you tossed yet another can into the bag. "Not always."
He stared directly at you, almost making you feel uncomfortable. He must've noticed you wrinkling your nose in disgust at the old liquid spilling down your hands. "You're pretty new to this, aren't you?" He winked, "...You don't belong here, dollface."
"I just-"
"-Lemme finish." He smirked, "Like I said, you're pretty new to this. No streetwalker look or any of that 'she ratchet' shit."
"Nope, I'm not a whore."
He chuckled again, and slowly responded, "So.... you and your parents. You, especially-don't fit here." He looked away and more seriously added, "I know how that is. Not to fit."
"Yeah," You said, interested now. "I don't fit because I keep getting thrown to the side." You shot an anger-filled glance towards the house-indicating Henry and Lauren.
Allen's face softened. He no longer gave off that hungry-like-a-wolf bad boy vibe. Instead, his red eyes hinted vulnerability. "Thrown to the side. That's the best way to put it." He turned away from your gaze and fiddled with the sunglasses resting over his head. "Yeah, I know how it feels. It's how I knew."
At this point, you dropped the plastic bag to the ground. "Knew what?" You whispered. But it didn't matter because the rest of the world had fallen away. There was a force field wrapped around the two of you; keeping you both close and any outsiders away. It was a dark, tense force field that emanated intrigue.
"I know your family betrayed you."
You gasped. Was it really that obvious?
He smiled gently. God, his smile was fucking beautiful. You had a feeling a genuine smile didn't often cross his face. With a gentle, caring hand, he ran his fingers through the strands of your hair until his warm palm cupped your cheek. "Don't ever let them see that you have a soft place."
You instantly understood that he had just divided the group here into "them" and "us," but he had seen into you. Zao and Oliver were inside, happily chatting up your foster parents. "...How can you already know so much about me?"
He moved his hand forward and ruffled your hair. "Let's just say that I know the signs. I've been through it. I noticed how you protect yourself when you talk to your parents. Me, I started collecting..." He paused, leaned in towards your ear, and whispered, "Guns."
Guns?
His voice dropped and he moved even closer towards you. His hot breath tickled your lobe; his lips were nearly pressed to your ears. "Does that scare you, dollface?" You caught a whiff of his delicious cologne. Was that Drakkar Noir?
You pulled back and stared at him. You didn't know what your expression was. Heart racing and breath labored, you still thought you knew what you were getting into.
Allen knew what he was doing. He was separating you from Henry and Lauren. He was telling you that he had secrets. Dark ones. He knew you'd either be repulsed or afraid-or fascinated. Seeing an offer of shared power. You could accept him or reject him now.
You both locked eyes and make an unspoken promise. You weren't going to tell about his guns, and he... he was going to be on your side.
It happened that quickly. You were sick and tired of your foster parents: of their lies, of their hate. You had been the good girl and gotten a lap full of betrayal. You wanted to be dangerous, and danger had just winked at you and said you could.
You accepted.
Clearly you didn't know it yet, but the darkness had begun to consume you. The deadly attraction.
D-E-A-D-L-Y-A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N-
"I kind of hate your foster parents." He mumbled to you the very next day.
You sighed, "I kind of hate them too sometimes." Well, I know I don't love them.
He chuckled, and kicked a random stone. You were both carrying trash pickup tools. The long ones with claws at the end that retracted to grab anything at the push of a button-you'd only seen people on community service use these before, but didn't question why Allen had them. After all, they made it a lot easier to clean up the yard.
He'd decided to work at your house, at least until the yard was all cleaned up. Henry and Lauren were thrilled, of course, because he'd agreed to it for low pay. He said it was already his summer break anyways and it would keep him from being bored.
For the past few days, he'd remained by your side. Each time Henry or Lauren left you a difficult task or rude comment, he had cut in with a polite response, "Henry, are you sure you want _____ to do that job? I don't want her to get chemical burns. Let me do it," or "Lauren, do you really mean that? She is your daughter, blood-related or not..." You never realized how much it hurt whenever Lauren called you mean names until Allen had gotten her to stop. Somehow, both of your foster parents were undeniably charmed by him. Even Peter thought he was 'the coolest and nicest guy ever'.
"I won't ask about your real parents," As you both scavenged the yard for more small pieces of trash to pick up, he used his mechanical claw to grip onto yours and slowly began to swing them together.
Looking down to the ground, you noticed your shadows appeared to be clinging to each other, due to the now-attached trash pickups. "Is this your bad-boy way of holding my hand?" You joked.
He turned his face halfway towards you and smirked, "No, this is." He dropped the long tool, and you followed his example. Immediately he snaked an arm across your waist and pulled you in close to his chest. "...I like being here with you, dollface." He whispered, your head against his shoulder.
A blush crept across your cheeks. He liked being here, in the middle of a massive dump, just because you were there? Heart pounding, you looked up at him. "Really...?"
"You bet," He winked, and thoughtlessly kissed your forehead.
Lately, every little thing he did made you blush. Several times he'd caught you staring at him, especially when shirtless. He'd grin boyishly and then make a big show of stretching his arms or flexing his muscles. Damn this summer's heat-why did it have to make Allen go shirtless? Honestly, you wanted to drag him into bed with you sometimes.
You could tell he was straight-up coming on to you. Had been doing it since you first met. But you didn't care; it made you feel special and cared for. Also, there was just something about his bad-boy aura that you simply couldn't ignore.
He looked back up, still holding you close to his body. Neither of you were working anymore. Henry and Lauren were inside and had barely helped clean up the yard. Why should you and Allen have to do all the work, anyways? "...I brought one today." He mumbled.
"Huh?"
He pressed his face into your hair and whispered, "A gun."
Oh, that. "...Where is it?"
His eyes slid up towards the house. "Let's go inside first. Through the backdoor."
Hurriedly, you both left the huge mess that was your yard and entered the house. Slyly avoiding your family, you and Allen made it into the room you shared with Peter-who was, thankfully, in the living room with Henry and Lauren. "It's a Glock 40," He announced as he plopped down onto your mattress. There wasn't yet an actual bed because Henry still needed to buy some new furniture. He and Lauren had sold most of the stuff from the mansion and had to purchase something cheaper, but hadn't done it yet.
"Where?" You scanned his body-for other reasons besides the fact that he always looked good.
He grinned mischievously, "Why don't you come over here and find out, dollface~?"
A chill ran down your spine; a burning heat started up in your lower stomach. Suddenly nervous, you shut the bedroom door. Locked it.
His grin turned smug. He was glad you'd accepted.
"But... are you allowed to carry?"
He waved it off, "Yeah, yeah... I have a licensed permit."
You continued to stand awkwardly by your door, "I thought you had to be twenty-one to have a permit."
"I'm twenty-two. Look younger, don't I?"
Oh yes, he did. Yesterday you could've sworn on your life that he was seventeen. But, this made things even more interesting. You were almost sixteen. So what if that cute baby-face of his had misled Henry and Lauren into thinking he was about your age?
"So... care to find my gun?" He leaned back, pressing his palms to your mattress as he awaited your wandering hands.
You swallowed thickly and nodded, "N-No problem." You laid your knees upon the mattress, one leg on either of his waist, nearly straddling him. Cautiously, you pressed your hands to his clothed chest. You could feel his heart beating. His amused eyes were locked on you.
Slow as ever, you lowered your hands, giving him strokes down his torso. His whole body felt toned and muscled-the dude must work out.
Finally, you reached the waistband of his jeans. Without hesitating, you slid your hand around the area.
That was where you found it.
Tucked into the waistline was a Glock 40 handgun.
You let your fingers tease the bare skin beneath his pants, just above his boxers-dark red, were they? You felt strangely powerful when he shivered at your touch.
You quickly realized that you were more infatuated with him rather than his gun.
"Hey, dollface..."
You looked up.
Eyes of red met your gaze. The eyes in which only a devil could possess.
"Wanna come over to my house tomorrow?"
A.N.: I should probably warn you right now-don't fall too hard for Allen. :3 Things aren't always going to ride smoothly for you two. Although, who Reader ends up with still varies~
For anyone saddened about moving away from Alfred, don't worry m'dears! The hero always comes back.
...Comment for more chapters? c;