Robin Hood in New York? ~ The Story of Iris Winter ~ {21}

We ran so hard that the soles of our feet tingled as they slapped the pavement. We stopped off in an alley, a few blocks from the Shelter, and collapsed, panting.
"What... was... that?" I gasped, clutching my chest.
Arson wasn't phased. He stood upright, not even winded.
"When I bent over to kick my swords to him, I card-sharked the knife out of my boot," he said casually, as if he did that kind of thing all the time. Well, he probably did.
"And you just decided that it would be okay fling a knife at him while he was using me as a shield?!"
Arson winced. "That... That was a split second decision. He was going to kill you..."
I rolled my eyes.
"Hey! Have a bit more faith in my aim!"
"Well, judging by your aim for the toilet-"
Brendon interrupted me by saying in a shaky voice, "Um... Guys?"
He had his hand clasped on his shoulder... And he took his fingers away, exposing a small patch of murky blood.
"Shit.." Arson muttered. "You okay?"
Brendon winced. "Yeah, I'm good. I've had worse."
I was shocked. "Worse?!"
"Fox will have to take it out when we get back," Arson said, grimacing.
"I know... I just hope it hasn't ruptured, like last time."
"Last time?!"
"You do know that Ana will have to sew you up without any painkillers again?"
Brendon shrugged, and then hissed between his teeth from the pain. "Yeah..."
"AGAIN?!"
"Iris, shut up!" The boy cried in unison.
I rolled my eyes and decided that Brendon didn't need any sympathy.
"Damn... I'm ruining my shirt..." he whined, and smeared away some of the blood.
You really knew that you were hanging around with a band of street kids when one of them had just suffered a gun-shot... And he was worried about bleeding on his shirt.
"Just shove a finger into it," Arson advised, picking his nails. "But go over to the side so you don't push the bullet in further."
"Oh," he replied, doing so. "Thanks."
"No problem. It worked for me that one time when I was stabbed in the stomach. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah! Man, that was gruesome!"
"I know!" Arson nodded vigorously. "And I had to keep on fighting the bastard! So I shoved a fist into my gut-"
"GUYS!" I shouted, feeling weak. "S-Stop!"
They both laughed awkwardly.
"Sorry, Darling."
-_-_-_-
We arrived back at the Shelter, and Analisa instantly bombarded us with questions.
"I've been worried sick! Were were you? Puppy was giving himself an ulcer! Why did it take you so long to get back? Brendon are you bleeding?"
Puppy mumbled an apology to Brendon, and the twins embraced quickly.
"Yeah," Arson explained. "We had a run-in with Devlin West, the guy who's out to get Iris and I."
Everyone shifted nervously. Brendon bit his lip to keep from crying out.
"Come with me, Bren," Fox instructed, and the two went off in search of the first aid kit.
After the wounded twin was out of sight, we began to calm down. Stuart decided that he was a super hero, and announced it loudly to everyone.
"Ima be Super Pyro!" he insisted to Ivan, who was trying to explain to him that it was impossible for little boys to fly.
"You're simply not built for it," he told him. "You don't have wings!"
"Superman doesn't have wings! Arson doesn't have wings!"
"Superman has kryptonite, and Arson isn't a super hero!"
Stuart snorted in laughter. "Whatever."
"And even if you were able to get yourself in the air some how, you're not aerodynamic! You'd just-"
"Hey, hey!" Puppy scolded Ivan. "Leave the boy alone! Let him dream!"
Ivan rolled his eyes, got up, and stretched, nearly smacking Neil in the face with his long arms.
"I'm going to get something to eat," he said, and stumbled off towards the kitchen.
"Yeah, have fun making a potato, lemon, and mayonnaise sandwitch!" Puppy yelled after him, and everyone groaned.
"What's gross is that he's probably actually making just that," Analisa squealed, scrunching up her nose.
We all laughed.
"AAAHHH!"
My head shot up, and I raced into the next room over, where I heard the scream come from.
Fox was extracting the bullet from Brendon's shoulder blade with a pair of tweezers. He was holding a bloodied towel in his hand, and Brendon was clenching his jaw in pain.
I felt sick.
"What are you doing, Iris?" Fox cried. "Get out! You're going to throw up all over my carpet!"
I obeyed, and stumbled back to the rest of the group, who began laughing at me.
"Shut up!" I scolded, clutching my stomach.
"Fox is the resident man-nurse," Neil explained. "You'll learn not to walk in on him when he's playing doctor."
I moaned and went to lie down, much to the amusement of the band of street kids.
And you know what? It was good to be home.
ONE WEEK LATER
I've gotten used to things around here.
Fox continued to harass me, but he wasn't as bad as Analisa. Every frickin' chance she got, she'd slip in some snide remark. Fox's little comments were annoying, but, I've got to admit, they were also sort of funny and cute.
Analisa was a different story.
I tried to pretend that she was just bitter because one more person meant smaller rations of food... But it wasn't like that. It was so personal.
Ugh. I don't want to talk about her right now.
Honestly, I don't want to talk about anything right now. I'm so tired, I think my body's going to shut down on me.
But, lo and behold, I can't sleep. My mind was awake with my thoughts.
And you know what else? There's an itching sensation in my throat. Man, I am thirsty!
I threw back the blankets, saw that Analisa was sleeping soundly, and then quietly opened the door. I tip-toed to the kitchen, and drew myself a glass of water. I chugged it, and then began to draw another.
Suddenly, I heard a voice from the doorway to the kitchen.
"Iris? Darling, is that you?"
"Yeah, Arson," I replied. "It's me."
He strode into the kitchen, wearing a big grin.
"I heard your door open. I'm a light sleeper."
I grinned. "Yeah, I figured."
It was then, in the soft glow of the moon streaming in through the dusty window, that he caught sight of me. I guess Arson wasn't used to me wearing such skimpy
clothes. I was in a tank-top that stopped just below my bellybutton, and a pair of short shorts that had some brand name written across the butt.
He stepped forward and lightly touched the bare skin of my hip bone.
"Do you want to play that game?" he breathed, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.
"What?" I asked, confused. "What game?"
"That game where you kiss me."
I remembered the game that I'd played with Arson a while ago.
"Oh! You mean where I ask you questions?"
"Yeah. And kiss me."
"Kissing isn't the entire point of the game, Arson," I scolded.
"Sure, sure," he said sarcastically.
"Okay..." I said slowly. "Let me think... We'll start off easy. What's your favorite color?"
I'd decided not to press him, because I'd remembered what happened last time.
He grinned. "Yellow."
He eagerly leaned in, but I pushed him backwards. "Not so fast, Fire-boy!"
"What?" he groaned. "You promised! That's how the game goes!"
"That was a level one question. It gets a cheek kiss."
"That's not fair!" he said hotly.
"My game, my rules!"
He huffed and turned his face so that I could peck him on the cheek.
"What level is lips?" he pouted.
"Three."
"So what's two?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"I guess you'll have to wait and see," I teased.
"Okay then, I'll humor you. Ask me a level two question."
I thought for a moment. "Did Analisa really see your face?"
He hesitated. "Yes."
My smile only faltered for a second. Then, it broke into a full-fledged vixen grin.
I backed up so that I could sit on the counter, boosting my height a couple of inches.
"Come here," I ordered. "So that I can give you the level two prize."
He chuckled and walked over towards me.
I pulled him down towards me by the collar of his plain white shirt, then kissed him tenderly on his neck.
He sucked in his breath. "I like level two."
"You'll like level three even better," I coaxed.
He sighed. "Okay, then... Ask me a level three question."
"Where were you born?" I immediately demanded.
He screwed up his face. "Do I have to-"
"Yes!"
"Alright... I was born in Cambridge, England."
He looked at me hopefully, and wasn't disappointed. I placed my hands on either side of his face and covered his lips with mine. He smiled, and ran his hands down
to my waist.
He tried to open his mouth against mine, but I broke away.
"Excuse me sir, but you are moving into level four!"
He grunted in frustration. "Fine! Ask me a level four question, then!"
His hands grew tense on my waist. I was practically torturing him, but, honestly, I didn't care.
I laughed softly, and leaned in for another kiss. He came forward eagerly, but I brought my lips back at the last second.
"Ask! Ask!" he demanded, his breathing going ragged.
"Why did you move to New York?"
He hesitated. "A... A family member was sick. We needed faster health-care, so we came to America."
"Who was sick?" I urged.
"My..." he gritted his teeth. "Goddamn it, you're hard to resist! My sister!"
I couldn't believe that he'd actually trusted me enough to tell me this. I was so supremely happy that I wasn't even thinking about the game when I pulled his face towards mine.
He was shocked at first. I guess he had doubts that I'd actually go through with it.
I placed my hand over his heart, feeling the wild beats, and he ran his spindly fingers through my hair. I was still sitting on the counter, so I was about his same height. This made it easier to him to pull me closer.
His mouth opened, hesitantly at first, but I responded heartily, and the kiss was deepened. He moved his hands down to my back, and, suddenly, I pulled away.
"That was enough for one question," I squeaked.
He was breathing quite heavily. "Ask me another. Ask me another. Level four."
"I... Uh... I... What... Um..."
I was having trouble concentrating. When I kissed Arson... Something happened. It was like a bomb had detonated inside my stomach. I can't explain it... Something clicked inside my mind. Somehow, I knew that... Arson was special.
"Come on! Come on!" he urged impatiently.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen," he answered without hesitation, and urgently leaned in for another kiss.
He almost knocked me out with this one. His tongue explored my mouth, and my fingers knotted into his hair. I nearly fainted! How could one boy make me feel so weak?
I pulled away, and he groaned in agony.
"Another question! Hurry! Hurry! Another question! Level four... No! Wait! Level fifty! Level one-hundred!"
"Uh... Where... Erm..."
He couldn't contain himself. He moved his lips to kiss my shoulders. It was very distracting. He slowly worked his way up onto my collarbones.
"What's your last name?" I blurted.
He thought for a second. He seemed to come to the conclusion that giving away his last name wasn't as bad as giving away his first name, because he sighed in defeat.
"If I tell you... You have to swear that you won't tell any of the others, okay?"
"Analisa already knows," I said, jealousy creeping into my tone.
He winced. "Yeah. She does. But you can't tell anyone else. Promise?"
"I promise."
He took a steadying breath. "Evans. My last name is Evans."
I leapt off the counter and bounded towards him. With a flying leap, I jumped up onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck.
He clasped his hands around my waist eagerly, and carried me like a front-wards papoose into the living room. Between the kisses, he'd come up with little facts about himself, trying to convince me that I shouldn't break away.
"I don't like peas," he gasped, and I kissed him again. "I had a dog when I was five, but it ran away. I hate the color brown, I've always wanted to play the trumpet, I'm a dog person, I prefer cold weather to hot..."
He went on and on, giving me useless information about himself. I completely ignored the fact that most of the factoids were strictly level one, and kept kissing him.
After a few minutes of this, the questions stopped all together. Then the kisses slowed, and we fell, exhausted, onto the couch. I rested my head against
his shoulder, and he draped an arm around my waist...
The pink sun struggled to make it's way over the horizon...
Guido Rossi is so sexy. All you Quizilla girls should date him!!!!!!!


(I went to the bathroom... And then came back to find this on my computer screen. God, my friends are so weird. Guido is Gui's real name, in case you were wondering.)
Love,
Ms. Marauder