“Austin,” Primrose called from the floor above. “Come greet your new roommates.”
I trailed upstairs, slightly reluctant about meeting them. I heard the fake joy that lined her voice – so detectable that I was surprised that she had fooled the humans for so long – which echoed her equally plastic grin. I also noticed that she had labelled them as ‘my’ roommates. It was as though she enjoyed lumping me with these immortals.
“Ah,” she sighed as I entered the somewhat drab living room. Her persona was so pleasant that I almost gagged. She took both my hands and led me over to an ancient armchair across from the three sitting humans I would have to share this cottage with for Zeus knows how long! (Actually, I’m not even sure if the Boss Man knows.)
Beaming with a beauty only a goddess could possess, Primrose gestured to the male on the far right with tawny hair and intelligent emerald eyes. “This is Jack Stone,” she said with a radiant smile (fake, fake, fake!). Shocking me, Jack got up off his chair and crossed the room to shake my hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Austin Jones,” he greeted in London accent, grasping my hand firmly.
“Likewise,” I replied, smiling. And I actually meant it. There was something affable about this fellow. It was as though underneath all his apparent intellect, was a guy worth socialising with. Even if he was a human.
The next person Primrose introduced was also a male. Unlike Jack Stone, he did not depart his seat. Nor did he smile. In fact, this man was most probably Jack’s polar opposite.
“Just call me Mickey,” he said in a tight liverpudlian accent. His eyes flicked towards Primrose. Was I the only one in the room that noticed the way they glinted hungrily as they raked over her figure? I was going to have to keep an eye on this one!
“And finally,” Primrose said. “This is Fujioka Suoh.” I had not truly noticed her presence in the room before then. She had been so quiet, so still. The only female in this house besides Primrose...She had somehow slipped my well trained playboy eyes.
Unaware of what I was doing, I rose from my chair. “Good evening,” I said, bowing gracefully. She half-smiled and responded in a language I did not understand.
Primrose smirked. “I’m afraid she does not speak any English yet. Or French, Spanish or Italian. Her native tongue is Japanese.” Inside I cursed. I was never interested in languages and only bothered learning four besides my first, Greek. Primrose knew this and for some reason she was twisting the knife a bit. There was something seriously up with her!