Raven ƹӝʒ

I'm on the run. But don't come looking for me, because I only bring destruction wherever I go. I'm like a timebomb, just waiting to explode and hurt you the most. So keep that in mind, if you choose to come looking. Because you might not get so lucky this time.
Lesson 101: If you catch a theif then they'll steal your heart.
(Third and final book of the series - Prequel to 'Red' - 1st- and 'Ruby' - 2nd- Raven is the 3rd and final book).


3. Tailored Transvestite


I raked through the t-shirts on the clothing rack while the murmurs of people around me filled the air along with the smell of fresh material. The shirts were quite girly to be honest, and I never really understood why my mate Chris enjoyed coming in here. After about twenty minutes of browsing through the endless rack of 'Shirts for Homosexuals', I finally settled on a dark blue collared polo and a red and white striped tee. It wasn't easy shopping with Chris as he had, what I liked to call, 'Squirrel Syndrome'. It's when you're looking at something then get distracted by something else, and although I claim to have made it up, it's probably a real thing judging by the stack of clothing Chris had draped over his left arm.

I walked over to him where he was ogling a pair of red Vans with white laces.

"Jesus, Chris. Why all the clothes?"

Chris stood up and rolled his eyes in a you wouldn't understand way. It kind of pissed me off, but being his best mate I had gotten used to it. Now, Chris wasn't a bad-looking guy. Infact, as far as guys go he was attractive enough. He had brown hair that was tousled and curled around the nape of his neck and big puppy-dog brown eyes with long lashes and a mischievous smile that paired with a dimple in his right cheek. Together, we looked like the perfect gay couple but unfortunately for him I was an egotistic, straight asshole. And that worked fine for the both of us because he wouldn't get the girl if I had one because he's gay, and I'm straight so we're just going to remain friends. It's brilliant, if you think about it.

Although some of the stuff Chris usually bought was slightly. . . 'eccentric', I can't deny that the bloke's got style. Sometimes, if I can't find something to wear when I'm on a date with a lass, I'll go and grab a pair of his jeans or a shirt he left lying around.

"Look," he stood up and shuffled the clothes in his arms until he was comfortable. He was pretty strong, too.  "I'm going through an emotional time. Darren and I broke up yesterday and, like I told you half an hour ago, I need purchase therapy. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go pay for all of this."

Yes, I thought, and bust your bank account whilst doing so.

I went to the dressing rooms to try on the two shirts but was stopped in my tracks when I spotted a pair of feet beneath one of the doors. What disturbed me most was the fact that whoever it was had rather smallish feet for a guy. And his toenails were painted blood-red. So I'm guessing it definitely wasn't a guy. It was either a blind female, or a transvestite. Pick one.

I knocked on the door and waited for it to open. When it did, I was more than a little surprised. It definitely wasn't a transvestite.

"Welcome to Half-Naked-Very-Pissed-Off-Girl Services. How may I help you, sir?"

She gestured to the shirt covering her chest and I cleared my throat before speaking. The sight of her made me want to run away or lock myself in the dressing room with her. But I couldn't decide which. Her hair was a honey colour with little highlights of golden brown and blonde. Her eyes were blue, brighter and bluer than the clearest ocean. Her mouth was twisted into a sarcastic smile and  her body, judging by what I could see, could probably stop traffic on a freeway with those curves. But she looked guarded, and I didn't really think of girls like that. She had a way about her that made you think if you stepped within a mile of her she'd tear your head off. Or worse.

"I'm sorry, I was just wondering why you're in the guys section when there's clearly dressing rooms for women."

Her eyes went cold and her mouth tilted into a smirk.

"I'm not blind, I know this is the guys section. However, I find men's shirts more comfortable than a woman's and also they have far better taste. Now, since that's all cleared up, please do fuck off."

I stood there, a mixture of angry and confused and shocked. A girl talking like that meant serious business. And possible death if I didn't get on my way.

"Alright, no need to get snappy."

Unexpectedly, she nashed her teeth, straight and white, at me like a wild animal.

"There. That's about the snappiest I get, sweetheart. Now go."

And with that final retort, she slammed the dressing room door shut in my face and I stepped into the cubicle beside her and tried both shirts on. Mid-change, there was a knock on my door. With the striped shirt dangling around my neck and my torso bare, I opened the door to Half-Naked Girl. Except she wasn't half naked anymore. She was wearing acid-washed grey skinny jeans and a black off-the-shoulder shirt with a feather design on it. Her hair reached the bottom of her spine and hung in a gold curtain of waves behind her arm as she braced it against the door.

"Well, hi. Just thought I'd pop over for a visit. Y'know, since you're half-naked and in the men's section. Bye now."

Then she swanned off with a black handbag draped over her shoulder.  And, I'm ashamed to admit, I watched her ass the whole time.



"What took you so long, you hypocrite?"

I knew why Chris said that; I was always shouting at him to hurry up and yet I probably took half an hour trying to shirts on. But I wasn't going to explain the reason why I was so long getting changed.

"Just a little problem. But it's all sorted now."

Chris raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in a suspicious manner.

"Oh, yeah? Well, that 'little problem' just walked out the store and gave me the finger. Anything to do with your little conversation?"

I could fucking feel myself blushing.

"You saw that?"

Chris chuckled darkly.

"I didn't have to see anything. Your face explains everything. You look like a fifty-foot cow dropped out the sky and started doing the can-can while you were in there! God, let's just go to Starbucks or something."

And with that cleared up and my new blue polo on, we left the shop and headed to the nearest Starbucks which was only across the road. But Half-Naked Girl never left my mind all day and I needed to forget her. I had other things to sort out. But some part of me hoped I'd see her again. Even if she was half-naked.


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