Tristan Flynn személy
Ruhn had to take a moment. He had no idea what god he’d pleased enough to warrant being blessed with such friends. They were more than friends. They were his brothers.
„What?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
Flynn crossed his arms. „I said I've known that you're a princess for all of an hour and you're already a pain in my ass.”
Flynn motyogott valamit.
– Mi van? – Bryce összehúzta a szemét.
Flynn összefonta a karját.
– Mondom, még csak egy órája tudom, hogy hercegnő vagy, máris az agyamra mész.
– Nem vagyok hercegnő – mondta Bryce, ugyanabban a pillanatban, amikor Ruhn felcsattant: – Nem hercegnő!
– Tök mindegy, ti barmok! – A gyógyítás végeztével elhúzódott Bryce-tól. – Tudhattuk volna. Te vagy az egyetlen, aki úgy fel tudja húzni Ruhnt, mint az apja.
The clock beneath the TV read seven in the morning when Ithan rose and showered. He helped himself to Tristan Flynn’s array of fancy shampoos and body products, all marked FLYNN’S. DO NOT TOUCH, RUHN. I MEAN IT THIS TIME.
Ruhn had written beneath the scribbling on one of the bottles: NO ONE LIKES YOUR WEIRD SHAMPOO ANYWAY.
Flynn had scrawled, right along the bottom edge of the bottle, THEN WHY IS IT NEARLY EMPTY? AND WHY IS YOUR HAIR SO SHINY? ASSHOLE!!!
“Out with it,” Flynn said without halting work on his handgun.
“What?” Ruhn asked, pulling the blade away.
Declan answered, “Whatever has kept you standing there in silence for ten minutes, not even complaining about Flynn’s shitty playlist.”
“Asshole,” Flynn said to Dec, nodding toward where his phone blasted heavy metal. “This stuff is poetry.”
“They’ve done studies where plants wither up and die when exposed to this music,” Declan countered. “Which is precisely how I feel right now.”
Vigyázat! Felnőtt tartalom.
“Plus, shouldn’t someone be here in case it’s, I don’t know, a trap or something?”
“Then why the fuck is he smoking?” Ruhn nodded to where Flynn blew smoke rings.
“Because I’m a self-destructive yet insanely charming idiot?” Flynn grinned.
“Emphasis on insane,” Dec muttered.