r o w a n

❝ beautiful, for you — i’d pretend to be your sister anytime. ❞

❝ you’re no fun. i’m rowan, by the way — you ? ❞

❝ i can do irish, if you can do me. i’m nineteen — but i’m old for my age. ❞ they shrugged, offering tall, light and HANDSOME a wink. ❝ some say i’m born to be bad. ❞ 

❝ tell me, gorgeous, how’s mine ? ❞

❝ well, ❛ the harder the hands, the kinkier the death; ❜ my bro back in la used to say that. dude got shot, poor guy. ❞ 

❝ gorgeous,, if those pretty little hands could wrap themselves around my neck i’ll have seen everything. seems to me like you’re all talk. ❞

❝ y’see — that’s the thing; the voice is what WANTS me to get you into bed; like a siren. ❞

❝ hey, same, but like — you can’t tell me accents aren’t hot. ❞ 

pushing down a wave of IRRITATION, rowan helped steady the boxes in the girl’s hands. ❝ not a problem,, we all had to do it once. ❞ shoving their hands in their pockets,, they made to leave. sadly for them,, their mother’s mannerisms had W O R M E D their way into their thoughts and they offered a strained smile. ❝ right. uh, sorry. you want me to take one, gorgeous? ❞

❝ well,, i was about to grab a coffee, if you wanna tag along. ❞ they shrugged,, offering a sheepish grin. ❝ you should’ve said hey — i didn’t notice you! ❞ nudging her leg with their foot,, they jerked their head in the direction of the nearest shop — just across the road! the coffee sucked, but it’d at least keep them awake.

❝ a’right — that’s cute and all,, but like,, nah. accents are my thing. british accents, southern accents. choke me and call me darling, i’ll die happy. ❞