ignitetheworld.
Declan put on an expression of faux hurt. He wasn’t sure the last time anyone was actually able to upset him, save for his father. But his father was always the exception to all of his rules. The one hurt that never quite healed, and never would. Leila, on the other hand, her words flew over him as if they had never been spoken in the first place. It was hard to take her seriously, and yet a large part of him wanted to be near her more. Not because of anything as stupid as attachment, but because of what she represented. Wealth. Power. Words that screamed out to Declan, begging him to make them his own. And he was determined that one day he would. “Interesting that you’d say that, considering the fact that I never see you in the areas I am. Almost as if maybe I don’t scare you, but my world does. Or maybe it doesn’t scare you. Maybe you’re merely curious but too unwilling to admit to that.” Declan moved back in his seat, practically reclining. “It’s alright to admit that I’m interesting. I’ve got no one to tell, sweetheart.”
Complete nonchalance was its own kind of power. It meant that she could slouch lazily in her seat and bat her lashes, eyes wide, utterly uninterested in how it looked to the casual observer. Only that she thought it would amuse, this strange abrassive boy from the wrong side of the city. Not because it mattered at all – of course it didn't – but because it was new. Different. Refreshing, in a way few things were when your life had been reduced to a long line of plain old fine. “Yep, it's definitely because I think it's scary or interesting, not distasteful.” Leila shrugged, unrepentant. “You're different. New. I don't know if that necessarily means interesting. In fact, you're an arrogant arse enough that I think if you were rich and better dressed, you wouldn't be interesting at all either. Not that people would believe you if you told them anyway. Nobody thinks sweet, perfect little girls like me are capable of fraternizing with boys like you.”
















