andinightshade
She sighed, knowing he was there. He knew she knew his hiding place.
She cleared her throat. "You gonna stay there all day?"
He straightened from his crouch, a strong smirk tugging at his lips. He lifted the gun and fired.
The lights on her laser tag vest went out. She screwed up her face - she hadn't been expecting that.
She sighed, tired from a long day and not one call from family and friends. She kicked off her shoes and turned on her light - her best friend was sitting on her couch. "Uh-uh, that won't do at all. C'mon. We're getting you dressed, and we're gonna go out a celebrate. Only one way to appreciate your twenty-first~!"
She laughed, her day instantly brighter.
She looked at him, eyes filled with concern. He hated that look. He couldn't stand her pity, her worry, and yet he seemed to get it from her often.
"Please," she whispered, her voice thick with worry. "Eat."
"Not hungry," he said, pushing away from the table.
She sighed, turning to him. "Where is it?"
He snickered. "I really like your new stuffed animal. it has a pouch."
She snarled at him, diving to the bed, picking up the kangaroo. She grabbed the necklace out of the stuffed animal, turning away from him with a dignified glare.
She laughed, eyes glued to the computer screen. He came up behind her, resting his chin on her head. "What have you been laughing about for the past few hours?"
She pointed to the screen. "My Life Is Average." She grinned widely.
He logged in to his webpage account, first time in weeks. It was odd, being back. He had a flood of messages: "Where are you? Where's John? What happened? Hullo?" He ignored them all. Well, all except for one. "Sorry, Sherlock. I've been a bit unpredictable, haven't I? xx, JM"
She glanced behind her before slipping the tickets into his hand. With the same move, he slid the money into hers before pocketing the tickets. It was a subtle trade, but the black market fair tickets were well worth the money.
She sighed, watching the human children below, wanting a playmate of her own. There were no other faerie children her age in her Court, and she wasn't allowed to play with other Court faeries. All she could do was watch from above and wish, left to hover.
She sighed, running a hand across her sweaty forehead. She hated when they came - she and the others would be worked to death, forced to cook day in, day out, no matter how sweltering it was outside, all to proved food for the damned "distinguished" nobles. Well, when the Revolution hit, the "distinguished" wouldn't be very "distinguished" anymore.
She glared at him, her wings fluttering uselessly against her back. This was one thing she hated about feather wings. None of the sheer winged girls had this problem - they could still soar. But when a faery had feather wings and she let one of the humans too close, there was always the danger of being clipped.