The Hooded Girl

X

She looked up at Drake, and saw kindness in his eyes, something she hadn't seen in ages. But there was a hint of guilt behind the friendliness, and it almost made her feel sad. Not for herself, but for him. She grasped his hand and he pulled her up. He held her at both arms as the blood rushed from her head. For a moment, she felt like she'd pass out again.

"Thank you," she said, clutching his arms in her momentary blindness.

He said nothing, aside from an exhale. As her vision steadied, she saw a bashful, blushing grin. She smiled.

When her eyes opened, she got her first good look at him, and through him, Dexter. His eyes were a deep purple, like both his brothers... and he was cute, she'd admit that much. His jaw was strong, his face long and angular. His skin was a deep and warm brown, and his hair was black and curly. He had slight stubble, but little enough that you could only see it up close. He was big, too – taller than her, and heavily muscled. The shy, gentle look in his eyes was the last thing she'd expected to see from someone like him, and that just made the girl's smile wider.

He smiled nervously for a moment, before looking away. The boys had stopped arguing.

"See?" Dexter said. "Drake likes her. Dad's gonna like her too." He looked almost exactly like his brother. His stubble was short as well, yet still enough to make him look grizzled. It took a moment for her to notice, but there was a line of scarring that took up most of his right cheek, leaving a pale, hairless line. His eyes had a playfulness to them. He kept his curly hair longer, long enough to put it back into a... a manbun. The girl smirked slightly at the sight of it. It certainly suited him.

Alastair, however, said nothing, although the girl could clearly see he was conflicted. His features were slightly softer, still long, still great and good. His skin was lighter, more olive tone, his purple eyes almond shaped. He sported shiny dark hair, long and worn half-back. But there was something else about him that struck her. She wasn't quite sure what it was, save that, when she looked at him, she felt her heart flutter. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, and she was desperate to stop it. Alastair was not cute, she thought. He was handsome. Very handsome. It was a word she didn't apply often.

"Will you tell me your name, at least?" Alastair asked, eyes boring into her like drills. "If you answer my questions, the sooner you'll talk to Alexander."

She hesitated. She remembered how scared her mother had been, in those final moments. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to not to remember it, but finding it difficult not to. "My name is... my name is Florence," she admitted through gritted teeth, looking off to the side.

"F... Florence? Your name is Florence?" Dexter was smiling toothily. "That's like... an old lady name."

She bit her lip, eyes glinting in irritation. This was nothing new to her. "And you have the same name as a television serial killer."

"Yeah, and it's an alright show, if I do say so myself."

She shrugged. She started laughing a little. "You like serial killer shows? Murder mysteries?"

"Yes indeed."

"You ever seen Mindhunter? On Netflix?"

He gasped. "Yes! Oh, fuck, I loved that show. Do you know if they're making a second season?"

"Y'know, I think they are! But I think it hasn't even started filming yet. I'm not sure. Have you ever seen the OA? Not so much a murder mystery, but still a cool show."

"Hmmm... no, I don't think I —"

"— Dexter." Alastair said.

"Hmm?"