He starts laughing, and I watch as he grabs his stomach, his whole body rocking with amusement. It would almost be contagious if it weren’t at my expense.
Rude.
“Do you really think the guards around here would let you make actual weapons?” he questions, his laugh getting a little higher in pitch as he wipes a laugh-tear from his eye.
I look at him incredulously. “What do you meanactual weapons?” I demand.
“Pieces of comb stuck in tooth paste?” he offers, like it proves something.
“Hey, The Minty Hedgehog is lethal as fuck!” I defend, and Rook completely loses his shit at the name.
He starts laugh-squealing like a ticklish little girl while mouthingThe Minty Hedgehogover and over again. I watch his breakdown with a lot of judgement in my green eyes, not appreciating his lack of appreciation at all. He slaps his knee with one hand like that will help him get over the giggles faster.
I have to bite my bottom lip to keep it from poking out to reveal the pout I feel. I’m tempted to throw something at him.
“Well, the joke’s on you, because people are buying them. They clearly see the potential my work has in aiding their vendettas,” I argue, crossing my arms over my chest. “They’re super dangerous. You could totally shank-kill someone with one of them.”
Rook stops laughing long enough to shake his head and reply. “They’re buying them to get on Zen’s good side. Word on the block is that she’s got something in the works for a break out. They all want to be taken with her,” he tells me, and my mouth drops open.
Well, shit. He just might be right.
“Word on the block, huh? More like, word from Alpha Bowen, your puppet master,” I accuse.
“Why would I be working for Alpha Bowen?” Rook asks.
“You tell me.”
He shakes his head, and I go quiet as I try to think through other business opportunities I could do. I can’t believe no one really likes my shanks. I thought they were awesome. I have to make money somehow though, or I’ll go crazy without being able to make deals for necessities and snacks.
I guess I could keep selling them, regardless of whether or not the other inmates actually find them useful or not, since I’m still turning a profit. I try to think about what else I could procure or fashion into a must-need item here in Nightmare Penitentiary.
Rook smiles as he watches me think, and I’m momentarily distracted by his dimples again.
I want to lick them.
I shake away that thought and grab the rest of my cornbread, shoving it into my mouth in a massive bite. Maybe if I keep my mouth full, I can convince it not to do all the naughty things that are currently streaming through my head.
Rook watches as I chew, his eyes darting down to trace the movement of my tongue as I lick up the crumb spilling over my bottom lip. His green eyes darken slightly, and then his hair, which I thought was just glowing from the trick of the light earlier, actually starts toglowglow.
I choke on my bite until I can swallow it down and then shoot up to my feet. “Holy shit. You can glow?” I ask, pointing at his head.
It’s super rare for cockatrices to be able to shift colors like I can with my feathers and hair and whatever touches my skin, but it’s even more rare for a cockatrice to be able to illuminate all its pretty colors.
I’m suddenly like Ariel, my eyes hypnotized and reflecting Ursula’s glowing contract. I can’t stop staring at his luminescent green and blue hair. The end of my tail thrashes out of my pocket before I can stop it, and it starts flicking around like it wants to twerk its way into his pants. Oh hell, how am I supposed to resist himnow? This is bad.
We stare at each other, eyes wide, breath caught, and some major sexual tension spreads between us and sticks us together like glue.
Fuck, he’s hot.
Muscles. Dimples. Glowy hair.Gah! I can’t stop looking at the glowy hair!
I’m suddenly wet and hot between my thighs, and he’s growing himself a snake in his pants.
“Stop glowing!” I snap, well...I try to snap at him. It comes out like areallyembarrassing moan. I bite on my bottom lip hard enough to split it.
“Ican’t,” he says through clenched teeth. Even his fists are clenched at his sides. His entire body has gone rigid, and his eyes are stuck on the movements of my tail, as my feathers bounce from yellow to orange to red and back again. Show-off.
I need to turn around. I need to stop looking, and he needs to leave before I do something I’ll regret.He’s probably the enemy,I remind myself. My cockatrice rolls her eyes at me. If she had fingers, she’d flip me off, because she doesn’t give a fuck. She justwantsto fuck.
