TAMING APOLLO | completed

02. my friend kills a homeless man

'9-1-1, what's your emergency?'

'Oh, I'd like to report a naked man who just magically zapped onto my bed after that earthquake nobody remembers just occured.'

Not exactly something I would take seriously if I was one of those operators.

It's dawning on hour three of us waiting for the man to wake up, Thalia is hovering before him with the baseball bat in her hands.

I have a frying pan in my grip, since my beautiful two-dollar vase is now broken.

I'm going to have to remember to charge him for that.

Garage Sale vases don't come cheap, you know.

My eyes begin to wander, and I start to notice the little things about this man's face. How'd such a good looking guy like him wind up homeless? He could have been a model or something, he's so gorgeous.

His platinum coloured hair is disheveled, which shockingly makes him look hotter.

His skin is is the perfect balance between tanned and pale, but at the moment he's looking very red courtesy of Thalia and I.

I don't even notice the fact that I seem to be levitating towards him, my fingers reaching out to touch his cheek when Thalia clears her throat.

"Stop trying to molest the homeless man, Gayle." She sighs, rubbing her fingers against her eyes because she's just woken up.

My cheeks begin to heat up as I retreated back to my seat directly across from him.

"Maybe we should take him to the hospital." I suggest, though a slight buzz feeds through my chest at the thought of homeless guy actually being dead.

I can't explain it but it feels as though I've seen him before, like I knew him for a little while. All of this makes my head pound and I try to shake the scary thought away.

What if he's been following me?

My brain is suggesting all of these horrid, terrible theories on why he looks so familiar, but there's this poking feeling in my chest that he's good, that he'd rather protect me than bring me harm.

Thalia whacks my chest a few times and my eyes dart up to the body.

He is beginning to stir.

"I'll be bad cop, you be good cop." She mutters to me.

I scowl at her words. "Why am I always good cop, what if I wanna be bad cop." She frowns at me, arms crossed over her chest.

"Fine, you can be bad cop." She hisses at me and I nod back at her.

"Fine."

"Good."

"Great."

Slowly, the man sits up, eyes still closed but as he realises that he cannot move his arms since they are tied to the chair, his eyes dart open.

The first thing they find is me, stood a few meters away from him.

He is hauntingly beautiful with his icy-silver eyes glaring into me, and then looking around confusedly.