Life With The Boy Next Door by Lissie (read after TXT) 📕

tight to Aron’s left hand, the one he didn’t necessarily need to work his magic. He turned to look down at her and grinned, his grey eyes flashing with power.
“So how’s about it, Mom? Like it?” he asked naughtily, fifteen year old immature glee showing on his handsome, cold face.
Alice slowly shook her head, as he knew she would. Instead of getting angry, he merely shrugged and pulled her with him yet again.
He paused, though, when a slight figure materialised in the smoky distance. He waited for the figure to come closer and then started to spin a tornado with a flick of his wrist. A clear, girlish laugh came from behind the dusty haze and Aron stopped, his eyes widening as a burst of pure heated flame appeared in front of his face, the end of the flame attached to a young woman’s hand like a leash. She was small and slender, with long midnight black hair slicing past her high cheekbones like a raven’s wing. Her ruby red eyes glowed as the fire leapt from her palm and encircled her like an embrace.
“Hello, Aron. I’ve been waiting for you for a long, long time. What took you so long?” she asked, her voice melodic and piercing to the untrained ear.
Aron didn’t flinch.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his own voice strong and unbending in its authority.
She laughed again.
“Starre. Now come with me” she replied, ordering him.
Aron didn’t like that. No one instructed him. No one.
He raised his right hand in the air and threw a bolt of fiery lightning towards her perfect face. Starre giggled and flicked it away from her, not even bothering to watch as it dissipated into nothingness. Aron raised one eyebrow and stepped toward her. She watched and smiled, before reaching out to him and gripping his arm tight. With a yell, Aron was torn away from his mother and into Starre’s fire. Alice reached for him, but to no avail. She couldn’t survive in this dead world without him, and he was trapped with that girl.
Aron turned back with an agonised expression on his face, hands outstretched.
“Mommy!” he yelled, his man’s voice breaking in half.
Alice lit up at the sound of that undeserved title, so heartbreakingly thrown at her. She lifted her hand to wave to her baby, love in her heart even as he ruined life. The very last things she ever saw before she, too, died, were Aron’s anguished face and Starre’s triumphant smile.
So Aron lived.
Imprint

Publication Date: 05-24-2011

All Rights Reserved