Skinny Man on Guard
Some stuff that might happen in my I Prefer the Mind Control universe. Enjoy!
---------
Xan keeps smiling at me, and I have the fucking feeling something weird is going on with him. We’re driving in his car, and he won’t say where we’re going. I don’t get it.
“Man, what’s going on?” I mutter, looking at Xan.
Right now, he has his eyes on the road, like a sensible driver. Me, I failed my first fucking driving test from being distracted by a jogger on the sidewalk and um, crashing into a mailbox because of it. What? She was hot, okay? Hot people shouldn’t be allowed out when the easily distractible are having their driving tests. Hey, don’t give me that look -- I know it was actually my fault for being stupid.
“It’s a surprise,” Xan says, smirking. I can see the smirk, even though I’m not looking directly at him anymore. He’s, like, radiating smirkiness. Which is a word. Because I said so.
“A surprise? That’s not very fucking specific,” I mutter. I keep my guard up, in case this surprise is something ridiculous.
There’s not much time to worry about the Mysterious Surprise of Doom because we pull into a parking lot. The surprise is a parking lot? Does Xan want to do it in public? I’m up for that, though I’ve still got my guard up. Because I just have a weird feeling about this, okay? And I still don’t know what to expect with having a sexy alien friend with benefits. What someone who’s gorgeous and obviously loaded wants with a skinny little guy like me, I don’t even fucking know.
“We’re here -- the Sherman Botanical Gardens,” Xan says, turning and smiling at me.
His bronze eyes sparkle -- there’s something weird about these botanical gardens, isn’t there? I raise an eyebrow. “What aren’t you telling me?” I say.
Who knew Zimarans were even into flowers? I look at the wooden sign with gold curlicue writing -- it does, indeed, say “Sherman Botanical Gardens.”
“It’s technically closed,” he says. Now he’s fucking grinning.
“Closed?” I cross my arms over my chest. What the fuck?
“I called and got it closed. For us,” he says, his grin widening. “We have the whole place to ourselves.”
My jaw drops. “You what?” How can someone even do that?
Xan opens his door and starts getting out of the car. “Come on, let’s explore,” he says.
Once we’re out of the car, he takes my hand. My brain is so not fucking on. It can’t process anything, so I numbly follow him. The place is, in fact, legit closed -- a “closed” sign on the entrance gate and everything -- though the green-uniformed staff lets us in like it’s normal. It’s nowhere near normal.
Xan squeezes my hand. “You okay there?” he says.
“This is a lot for what’s essentially a booty call,” I breathe. Looking around, the place really is fucking impressive. I don’t recognize many of the flowers as I let Xan lead me to wherever he wants to go.
We end up in a fucking rose garden.
A random thought nudges my mind. “They say different flower colors used to mean different things. Which rose do you think means ‘I went beyond the call of duty for my booty call?’”
He laughs. “You really think this is so unreasonable?”
I look out at all the rows of roses. There seem to be some in every color a rose can possibly come in. “Not...unreasonable, just -- you super-rich people are from another fucking planet,” I mutter.
That makes him laugh even harder. “Well, I am from a different planet.”
“Right.” I resist the urge to smack my forehead because duh. But still. I’m half-impressed and half in “what the fuck” mode because...just wow.
Before my “what the fuck” haze can truly wear off, Xan pulls me under a latticed archway thing where a bunch of roses grow. He starts kissing me so that I forget how leaning against fucking roses -- which have, um, thorns -- might not be the smartest idea ever.
He looks into my eyes. “Want the mind control now?”
I nod. Of course I do. Xan keeps gazing into my eyes, and I feel that fucking shift into uncontrollable lust. Now, I’m the one kissing Xan and pushing him against the latticed archway thing.
A strange and silvery figure knocks into us as something whizzes by my head -- was that a bullet?
What the fuck?
Xan and I go crashing to the ground. He rips the mind control off of me, or else it cancels itself out. Pain fucking shoots through me.
I look up, and -- seriously, what the fuck? There’s some kind of...extra-alien-looking alien staring back at me. Sure, she’s humanoid, but she has metallic silver eyes and and silver streaks all over her skin. Where did she come from?
My heart tries to vacate my chest cavity as three more silver-streaked aliens appear out of nowhere and surround me and Xan. Then, more fucking bullets. Xan sits on the ground, wide-eyed.
“You need to run,” the silver streaked woman hisses at Xan, grabbing him and pulling him up. “Or they’ll kill you.” She points in what seems to be the least bullety direction. “Go that way,” she adds and lets go of Xan.
A rose bush fucking explodes -- more bullets shoot through it. And miss us. Somehow. The silver streaked aliens shoot back at where it came from, shredding the rose bushes. Leaf debris flies everywhere, and just -- what the fuck?
I grab Xan and start running. Two of the silver-streaked people come with us. We run as more bullets whiz everywhere. Can’t even think anymore. Can’t run properly, either. I trip and fall over a rock on the ground. Fuck. Then I grab the rock and throw it in the direction I think the bullets are coming from. Hear a scream of pain. No way -- did I actually hit one of the shooters?
A hand pulls me up, and I keep running. My muscles fucking burn as I try to avoid, you know, dying from a screeching bullet. I’m running on adrenaline and sheer “this can’t be fucking happening.” It can’t be.
Somehow, we make it into the car and speed off.
Again, what the fuck?
* * *
We’re sitting in Xan’s apartment, and nothing is making any fucking sense. He’s on the couch next to me, holding my hand. That hasn’t stopped my heart from racing and trying to book the next flight out of my chest cavity. Thank the nonexistent god that ribs fucking exist, because my heart wants to leap right out. My body’s charged and shaking. And nothing feels fucking real.
One of those weird silver-streaked people stands in front of us. It’s the same one who first appeared. Now, I’ve got time to notice she has short, bright red hair and pale skin. And is tall. And scary, even when just standing there.
I turn to Xan. “Would you like to tell me why someone tried to fucking kill you? I mean, is being loaded as fuck really worth an assassination attempt? Something else is going on, isn’t it? Tell me you’re not part of the Zimaran Mafia or anything like that. Oh yeah, and what’s up with your, um, bodyguards?”
The woman purses her lips. “You didn’t tell him, did you, Xan?”
“Syra...” Xan trails off, and he looks...nervous? Awkward? Is he blushing?
This Syra glares at Xan. “Of course you didn’t,” she mutters.
“You’re not really part of the Zimaran Mafia, are you? Do you guys even have a mafia?” I ask. The air’s gotten all weird and tense, and he’s avoiding my eyes. His posture is stuff as I look over at him, wondering just what the fuck is going on.
Finally, he actually smiles at me, though it’s only, like, a half smile. And, yeah, he is blushing.
“Um...I didn’t exactly tell you who I really am,” he says.
“I figured that much. So, who are you?” I ask. My body’s still full of adrenaline. You know what? It feels really fucking weird to have an awkward moment when you’re still hyped up from a fucking assassination attempt.
“I’m not a member of any mafia, I can assure you.” He squeezes my hand again.
“That doesn’t tell me who you are,” I say. I shift a bit in my seat, trying to get comfortable. Booty calls are supposed to be simple, aren’t they?
Xan removes his hand from mine and folds both of them in his lap. He takes a deep breath and sort of stares into the distance. I wait while the air gets so tense it’s hard to fucking breathe.
“I’m a Prince of Zimara.”
---------
Xan keeps smiling at me, and I have the fucking feeling something weird is going on with him. We’re driving in his car, and he won’t say where we’re going. I don’t get it.
“Man, what’s going on?” I mutter, looking at Xan.
Right now, he has his eyes on the road, like a sensible driver. Me, I failed my first fucking driving test from being distracted by a jogger on the sidewalk and um, crashing into a mailbox because of it. What? She was hot, okay? Hot people shouldn’t be allowed out when the easily distractible are having their driving tests. Hey, don’t give me that look -- I know it was actually my fault for being stupid.
“It’s a surprise,” Xan says, smirking. I can see the smirk, even though I’m not looking directly at him anymore. He’s, like, radiating smirkiness. Which is a word. Because I said so.
“A surprise? That’s not very fucking specific,” I mutter. I keep my guard up, in case this surprise is something ridiculous.
There’s not much time to worry about the Mysterious Surprise of Doom because we pull into a parking lot. The surprise is a parking lot? Does Xan want to do it in public? I’m up for that, though I’ve still got my guard up. Because I just have a weird feeling about this, okay? And I still don’t know what to expect with having a sexy alien friend with benefits. What someone who’s gorgeous and obviously loaded wants with a skinny little guy like me, I don’t even fucking know.
“We’re here -- the Sherman Botanical Gardens,” Xan says, turning and smiling at me.
His bronze eyes sparkle -- there’s something weird about these botanical gardens, isn’t there? I raise an eyebrow. “What aren’t you telling me?” I say.
Who knew Zimarans were even into flowers? I look at the wooden sign with gold curlicue writing -- it does, indeed, say “Sherman Botanical Gardens.”
“It’s technically closed,” he says. Now he’s fucking grinning.
“Closed?” I cross my arms over my chest. What the fuck?
“I called and got it closed. For us,” he says, his grin widening. “We have the whole place to ourselves.”
My jaw drops. “You what?” How can someone even do that?
Xan opens his door and starts getting out of the car. “Come on, let’s explore,” he says.
Once we’re out of the car, he takes my hand. My brain is so not fucking on. It can’t process anything, so I numbly follow him. The place is, in fact, legit closed -- a “closed” sign on the entrance gate and everything -- though the green-uniformed staff lets us in like it’s normal. It’s nowhere near normal.
Xan squeezes my hand. “You okay there?” he says.
“This is a lot for what’s essentially a booty call,” I breathe. Looking around, the place really is fucking impressive. I don’t recognize many of the flowers as I let Xan lead me to wherever he wants to go.
We end up in a fucking rose garden.
A random thought nudges my mind. “They say different flower colors used to mean different things. Which rose do you think means ‘I went beyond the call of duty for my booty call?’”
He laughs. “You really think this is so unreasonable?”
I look out at all the rows of roses. There seem to be some in every color a rose can possibly come in. “Not...unreasonable, just -- you super-rich people are from another fucking planet,” I mutter.
That makes him laugh even harder. “Well, I am from a different planet.”
“Right.” I resist the urge to smack my forehead because duh. But still. I’m half-impressed and half in “what the fuck” mode because...just wow.
Before my “what the fuck” haze can truly wear off, Xan pulls me under a latticed archway thing where a bunch of roses grow. He starts kissing me so that I forget how leaning against fucking roses -- which have, um, thorns -- might not be the smartest idea ever.
He looks into my eyes. “Want the mind control now?”
I nod. Of course I do. Xan keeps gazing into my eyes, and I feel that fucking shift into uncontrollable lust. Now, I’m the one kissing Xan and pushing him against the latticed archway thing.
A strange and silvery figure knocks into us as something whizzes by my head -- was that a bullet?
What the fuck?
Xan and I go crashing to the ground. He rips the mind control off of me, or else it cancels itself out. Pain fucking shoots through me.
I look up, and -- seriously, what the fuck? There’s some kind of...extra-alien-looking alien staring back at me. Sure, she’s humanoid, but she has metallic silver eyes and and silver streaks all over her skin. Where did she come from?
My heart tries to vacate my chest cavity as three more silver-streaked aliens appear out of nowhere and surround me and Xan. Then, more fucking bullets. Xan sits on the ground, wide-eyed.
“You need to run,” the silver streaked woman hisses at Xan, grabbing him and pulling him up. “Or they’ll kill you.” She points in what seems to be the least bullety direction. “Go that way,” she adds and lets go of Xan.
A rose bush fucking explodes -- more bullets shoot through it. And miss us. Somehow. The silver streaked aliens shoot back at where it came from, shredding the rose bushes. Leaf debris flies everywhere, and just -- what the fuck?
I grab Xan and start running. Two of the silver-streaked people come with us. We run as more bullets whiz everywhere. Can’t even think anymore. Can’t run properly, either. I trip and fall over a rock on the ground. Fuck. Then I grab the rock and throw it in the direction I think the bullets are coming from. Hear a scream of pain. No way -- did I actually hit one of the shooters?
A hand pulls me up, and I keep running. My muscles fucking burn as I try to avoid, you know, dying from a screeching bullet. I’m running on adrenaline and sheer “this can’t be fucking happening.” It can’t be.
Somehow, we make it into the car and speed off.
Again, what the fuck?
* * *
We’re sitting in Xan’s apartment, and nothing is making any fucking sense. He’s on the couch next to me, holding my hand. That hasn’t stopped my heart from racing and trying to book the next flight out of my chest cavity. Thank the nonexistent god that ribs fucking exist, because my heart wants to leap right out. My body’s charged and shaking. And nothing feels fucking real.
One of those weird silver-streaked people stands in front of us. It’s the same one who first appeared. Now, I’ve got time to notice she has short, bright red hair and pale skin. And is tall. And scary, even when just standing there.
I turn to Xan. “Would you like to tell me why someone tried to fucking kill you? I mean, is being loaded as fuck really worth an assassination attempt? Something else is going on, isn’t it? Tell me you’re not part of the Zimaran Mafia or anything like that. Oh yeah, and what’s up with your, um, bodyguards?”
The woman purses her lips. “You didn’t tell him, did you, Xan?”
“Syra...” Xan trails off, and he looks...nervous? Awkward? Is he blushing?
This Syra glares at Xan. “Of course you didn’t,” she mutters.
“You’re not really part of the Zimaran Mafia, are you? Do you guys even have a mafia?” I ask. The air’s gotten all weird and tense, and he’s avoiding my eyes. His posture is stuff as I look over at him, wondering just what the fuck is going on.
Finally, he actually smiles at me, though it’s only, like, a half smile. And, yeah, he is blushing.
“Um...I didn’t exactly tell you who I really am,” he says.
“I figured that much. So, who are you?” I ask. My body’s still full of adrenaline. You know what? It feels really fucking weird to have an awkward moment when you’re still hyped up from a fucking assassination attempt.
“I’m not a member of any mafia, I can assure you.” He squeezes my hand again.
“That doesn’t tell me who you are,” I say. I shift a bit in my seat, trying to get comfortable. Booty calls are supposed to be simple, aren’t they?
Xan removes his hand from mine and folds both of them in his lap. He takes a deep breath and sort of stares into the distance. I wait while the air gets so tense it’s hard to fucking breathe.
“I’m a Prince of Zimara.”