Arabella: My Bad BoyMature

Running back to my room, when I walked in I slowly closed the door and turned the lock. I stood pressed up against the door. Why does he have to do this? Why? Pain erupted in my chest, salty tears cascaded down my face and my knees fell to the wooden floor. TAP! TIP! TAP! TIP! My sobs were interrupted by the sudden tapping on my window. I ran to window on the right wall, unlocked the iron hatch in the middle, and opened the tall windows like doors, stepping on the the small iron balcony. My chest tightened and the air in my throat suddenly stopped.

"Good evening, my sweet angel," a deep icy voice mocked. 

"S-Sinclair," I wiped away a tear and tried to regain my confidence. "Why are you here?"

He stood on the roof, leaning against the fireplace, "You were crying, I saw everything that happened." His voice suddenly grew softer, "I am sorry."

"Demons cannot feel remorse," I stated. "But you are not, you are merely half."

"Clever Angel," he laughed, an actual laugh. "But of course a Princess of all angels would know that, you know who you are now though."

My cheeks grew warmer and I noticed I flushed under his gaze.

"You know," he broke the silence, "we could leave. Ever ridden a motorbike?"

I shook my head, "No"

"Come on then," Sinclair grabbed my hand, and assisted me off the balcony. His hands wrapped around my waist and he jumped off the roof. 

"Stop screaming," Sinclair laughed as I filled with terror. We soon landed safely on the ground. 

He handed me a leather jacket and a helmet, "Here, put this on. It is cold and you need a helmet." I put on the jacket, zipping it halfway, and put on the helmet. "Shoes! You need shoes, Ara!" Sinclair scolded. "We are going to the store in town, you need boots." He grabbed my hand and pulled me on to the motor bike in front of him. I squirmed, trying to find some comfort. "If you continue to squirm, you are going to find something prodding your back," Sinclair smiled, squeezing his legs around mine. He revved the engine and began driving down the driveway away from the manor.

I giggled, "My own bad boy demon."

He soon pulled up to a small Chinese restaurant, parked the bike, and lifted me off the seat. 

"I believe I was getting shoes," I inquired. "I do not recall mentioning hunger or a craving for oriental meals."

Sinclair strode over to the door, "Just come in. I know your friend works here. Mika, I believe is her name."

I walked through the door, instantly spotting the blue hair of Mika as she waited a table.

"Mika," I called out.   

"Ara!" She exclaimed. "Is that Balthasar?"

"No, this is Sinclair..." I held Sinclair's hand, "Balthasar broke my heart for no reason."


"I'm sorry Ara. We can kick his ass later, kay?"

"Alright," I laughed, leading Sinclair to a booth, dragging him next to me.

"Mika, right?" Sinclair interrupted the girl-talk, "Do you have an extra pair of boots with you? I know you have short lace up pair somewhere."

Mika looked down at my feet, "Oh, of course!" Mika ran back to the kitchen and handed me a pair of black lace up combat boots. "You can keep them, they are getting small anyways."  

"Thank you!" I smiled, putting them on.

"Now then," Sinclair looked at Mika, "I will take two Cokes and I will have an order of the crab, shrimp, broccoli with Lo Mein and an order of eight Crab Rangoon."

"Okay!" Mika winked at me, smiling as she walked away.

"What about what I ordered?" I protested.

"We are sharing," Sinclair smiled.

Mika came back to the table, tears falling on her cheeks and crawling down to her blouse, holding the phone down by her side. "I am sorry, but they found Jakson, his body."

"Oh my God!" I gasped, finding myself crying. 

"Wait, his body?" Sinclair looked confused. "How? How did he die?"

"The police said suicide. They found a gun and a bullet in the wall behind him," Mika sobbed louder. 

The End

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