I didn’t even bother to respond to him. He flicks his head so his hair left his face and leapt into mine, just barely missing my eyes, as he mounts the first step and begins to loosen his grip on my knees as he searched for the key to the door.
“You can put me down you know.” He ignores me as he slides a short bronze key from his back pocket and flips the lock with a quiet click. “Hey, don’t ignore me.”
My voice reaches deaf ears again as he walks in and inspects the overly simple furnishings. A small couch and arm chair rested in the middle of a hardwood floored living room down the slender hallway we were currently crammed into. The paint was thick and pale, cream in color and was met halfway by a wooden lining.
“Home, sweet home,” He yawns and nearly tosses me off his back.
“Whoa now! You still have a passenger, Devarian.”
“Call me Master.” His voice was so plain and dull when he said that that I’m not sure if he’s kidding or serious. He continues through the hall to the living room and stands looking down at the plain furniture that had a pile of books on it, ancient books like the one that was currently weighing down the right side of his jacket.
“Hell no.” I try to suppress a yawn as he looks back at me. It was hard not to laugh at his stern expression when he glared at me. “I’m not going to call you ‘Master’. That’s just so degrading.”
“You’ll get used to it.” He said simply as he walked into the living room. I grumbled to myself and glanced at the door which was still half open. I smiled to myself and grabbed hold of the knob.
Next thing I knew, I was dashing back down the path, dodging bushes and stray rocks. It helped that my adrenaline was still high from earlier, I was going much faster than what I might normally have done. I had to get away from this weirdo.
The cold stung my eyes and cut into my face as I went. I was surprised he hadn’t noticed that I was gone yet. I turned my attention to the book that was thumping against my leg and dug it out of its home as I kept going, too scared to stop in case he was behind me.
It wasn’t a moderately huge book, but it felt like I was carrying fifty pounds. The cover was in a script I couldn’t read. Damn the warlocks for having a secret language. I tossed it into the snow and kept going, feeling free of him completely now that that book was gone.
Soon I was standing on the main street, but I was still all too aware that he could pop out anywhere since he was made by warlocks.
That fact alone scared me to no end.
- Title: The Seamstress: Chp5 pt2
- Artist: -Aiiko-sama-
+.: I'm soo sorry I was amazingly late with this posting!! Life cought up with me and made it a wee bit difficult to working on this story...
I know it's short, but it's the second part...
Well, enjoy... :.+
- Date: 09/07/2009
- Tags: seamstress chp5 aiikosama