The Boy With The Silver Lighter **ON HIATUS**

**Sequel to 'The Boy With The Red Sunglasses'.** It has been a week since the funeral of Evelyn James, a funeral that shouldn't have happened. Because Evelyn is not dead, although she might as well be. With the order to stay away from her friends, family and the boy she loves, Evelyn has no choice but to go back to the boy who caused her death - the boy with the silver lighter.

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6. Shopping

"What do you think?" I look Evelyn up and down as she emerges from the changing rooms in some cheap clothes shop she dragged me to. She spins quickly, showing off a long-sleeved, black shirt she's considering buying.
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Don't you think you'd better suit something..." I search for a polite way to say it. "More revealing."
"Can you give me a non-perverted opinion please?" She huffs dramatically.
"It looks fine." I sigh, smirking at her words. "I just can't help thinking you'd look better in something low cut."
"John!" She moans, making my smile grow.
"I'm joking. If you want it, get it." I yawn. Shopping really isn't my thing.
"You don't like it, do you?" She complains, dropping her shoulders purposefully.
"Hey! Stop putting words in my mouth!" I argue. Although, she's right. It's so plain and understated. What happened to the sassy, sexy Evelyn I met in the club? The one in the tight, black crop top.
"Fine!" She crosses her arms over her chest. "Go and find something you think would look good."
"What?" I don't know what looks good. I'm a guy!
"Search this shop for something you deem appropriate for your wench, your highness." She replies sarcastically.
"But-"
"No." She cuts me off. "If my fashion sense is so bad, surely you can do better, Aussie boy."
"Aussie boy? Seriously?" I can't help but laugh at her attempt an insult.
"Shut up. I wasn't thinking!" She protests. "Now, go get me some clothes."
"Whatever." I laugh.
"Stop saying that!" She orders as I walk away.
"Make me." I reply telepathically.
"I hate you, Aussie boy." I can feel the amused undertone in her thoughts.
"Ditto, sweetcheeks." I search the clothes racks for anything that would look nice. But the problem is, almost everything would look nice on Evelyn. She's gorgeous!
So, it's not what looks good on her that I need to find, it's what I want to see her wearing... Hmmm... This could be fun. Damn, she's right! I am a perv!
"So, what's your favourite colour?" I probe telepathically.
"Not telling you." She replies quickly. Damn!
I continue flicking through the miles of ugly clothing. People actually wear this stuff? Suddenly, something catches my eye. On a mannequin down in the end of the shop are some skin tight, leather-look pants with an almost inappropriate amount of slits, cuts and rips in them. Perfect. I reach the end of the store quickly. I select the smallest size from the rack beside the mannequin and make my way back to the changing rooms.
"You took your time." She gibes when I approach her.
"Here." I throw the pants at her and she catches them neatly. "Try these."
"You are so predictable." She rolls her eyes before retreating back into one of the cubicles.
"Need some help getting your clothes off?" I joke telepathically.
"Why are you so creepy?" She replies instantly.
"No, it's okay. I have a perfectly good view from out here." I push. "I just need to-"
"Stop using our connection for inappropriate things, Mr Allerdyce." The way she thinks my name is strangely sexy.
"Better?" She asks aloud, exiting the cubicle. My mouth falls open as I take in the sight of her in the cut up pants. They seem to elongate her perfect, skinny legs in the most attractive way. The slits and cuts allow small previews to the gorgeous, pale tone of her skin. The faux leather material hugs her body perfectly. To say she looks good would be an understatement.
"Wow." I gasp.
"Aren't they a little... Suggestive?" She looks down at her legs cautiously.
"They suit you." I nod slowly, my eyes not straying from her body.
"I don't know." She wanders over to me.
"Come on, Evelyn." I whisper. "What happened to Ardor, the sexy pyrokinetic?"
"She died." She replies bluntly.
"If you don't buy the pants, I'm buying them for you." I wink at her. She needs to lighten up.
"I'll never wear them." She argues.
"We're bringing Ardor back." I state confidently. "And this is the first step."
"But-"
I push my index finger over her lips to silence her. "No. This is happening."
"You're so annoying." A ghost of a smile sneaks onto her lips.
"You love it." I smirk.
"No. Also, my turn."
"Your turn to what?" What's she talking about.
"To find you something to wear." A strangely evil grin takes hold of her lips.
"My wardrobe is fine!" I protest.
"Not by my standards." She teases.
"Hey!" I object. I like my clothes.
"Why don't you wear the leather jacket and the black skinny jeans anymore?" She bites her lip and looks up at me. "They were nice."
"I just don't think they suit me." I lie. I haven't worn them because they remind me of the day she died.
"I like them." She whispers. Damn, she's attractive. "Thanks."
"Stay outta my head!" I laugh.
"Never."

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