THEY CALL US ROGUES
Ex likes to think he can find the appeal anywhere he goes. He is the appeal. Style and sex appeal, and he moves like he knows it. Then again, there is no like. He does know it. Ex isn’t one to pretend he doesn’t. Why would he pretend? Just another teenage douchebag, but maybe he’s even something far… more interesting. At least the playboy interests himself… that’s what should count, right? He interests himself, he draws himself in. It’s the first step in being any sort of interesting. One needs to interest themselves before others find them interesting… that sounded so much more poetic than it needed to, but all in the same he got the job done.
A lovely day seemed to have laid out for him. Mother nature… ah, how she did love him. He respected the woman as much as he respected any other… granted not a lot, but enough. Ex wouldn’t go pissing in someone’s cheerios if it meant he had the potential of getting laid—that sounded about right. He knew the game he played, and he played it well. Ex always made the push to play well. Go big or go home, right? It’s on graceful legs that he makes his way across the ground, through the tall grass. He’d told Roach he’d gone hunting, but it didn’t matter—she was out cold anyway. This would be his time to himself, thank you very much. Sometimes all his sister’s adoration was nice… then it got to be annoying. There was no chase. Ex’s favorite thing? A good game of chase.
He explores. The playboy has a tendency of sticking his head where he doesn’t belong, and this time… well, he’s found something awesome. She was extremely attractive and apparently unattached. The young man with the flashy eyes and the charming smile set eyes on the young woman, tail wagging. “Well hello, beautiful.” Soft words, silky words, slipping from his lips with all the grace in the world. Ex could handle this. It wasn’t even entirely a ruse… therefore he could more than handle it. Seemed legit, right?EX
we travel fast and alone |