Chapter 8: The fox.

Brown. Poppy had never thought one color was prettier but brown was most definitely her favored color now. The uniqueness of his skin was the way it was designed to make its wearer look tapered with a native eloquent grace- at least that was the way she'd seen the brown of his spotless skin.

His skin had the heavenly hue of a special kind of native eloquence tethered with graceful out-worldly golden tinges highlighted beautifully on his body, she was sure nobody else could match. That skin was meant to rival the mystical beauty of the gods, and if there was something as brown porcelain dolls then his skin reminded her of it. The man slowly covered her memories like a venomous snake would be a living brown porcelain doll.

Then if one could tear their eyes off his stainless brown skin they'd notice his V cut jaw made specially for the otome games she was severely obsessed with playing. They'd notice his slightly monolid eyes with tragic maroon eyes that would seem almost average unless they just had to contain a primordial glint that made those average eyes seem as if they'd seen the rise and fall of dynasties, shrouded away from the world by his fair eyelashes that if risen would look as if the sun had risen on his maroon eyes.

She hated those eyes the most. They were so tragic because they made him look old and pitiful but it was also a shame it was difficult to avert your eyes from those orbs that contained a lulling trance in them.

The man had majestic short midnight blue hair curly and soft looking that trailed down to the high of his chin. The man had a damn piercing on one ear lobe and another on his pink thin tongue. Maybe she was perverted and mad for remembering such intensive details about a man she knows nothing about but his first name.

Ruen. The name though. The name was as ethereal and strange as he was. It suited him nicely and Poppy couldn't help her urge to taste the name on her tongue, "Ruen." She called out softly, her timid voice echoing through her steamy bathroom.

Water droplet after another slapped against her pasty white skin and her big bottled green doe eyes stared fixated on her bland white tiles for walls.

Why? Why was she reminiscing on someone she barely- scratch that didn't know? Why did the scent of his vanilla cake and strawberry fruit combination linger in her mind like a virus that refused to die?

"Great all-seeing-eyes," she exclaimed in a hush tone. Water battered on her pasty skin, traveling from her charcoal long black hair past the tattoo of a bulldog with a mask on her back, down to the rough tile for bathroom ground.

In a daze she switched off her shower head, cleaning herself up and leaving the bathroom. "Out so quickly?" The voice of a particular dirty blonde haired girl cut through her daze.

Margaret stood in front of a mirror. The blonde was wearing a "show me your back" (backless top) glittery thin tied collar piece of clothing that served as top with an equally thin knot at the lower end of the top. Skin tight black pants with a major rip at one side of it. Tall shoes that added to her already giant figure. Her blonde hair was let down highlighting mostly the smokey eyeshadow she had on and her glossy pink lipstick on her plump lips.

Margaret had the aura of beyond sexy while Poppy had looks that would have people aww at her for a second or two, Margaret had looks that would make people beg for a date or merely her attention.

The contrast between the two friends was glaringly clear.

"Yeah, wow Maggi you look smoking hot. Did you get so prepped for just a party or is there someone's attention you want?"

Margaret shrugged. "Maybe there is someone."

Poppy gasped. "Oh my fat ass! Who is it?! Tell me now!"

Margaret rolled her eyes. "I don't know how I feel about you going to the party alone, are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

"Maggi, I still have to Skype with my family. You go alone, I know the coordinates on the IQ chip."

IQ chips were little round devices that stored information and were capable of many digital wonders.

"Fine." Margaret breathed out. "But get there on time okay? I'm sure Sol is just dying to see you."

Poppy merely shakes her head and watches Margaret leave the hotel room. She sighed, throwing on a sweater before pressing the small bump on the top of her IQ chip.

A digitized light broke out of the black round IQ chip. A humanoid female known as the MAX AI stood in the middle of the IQ chip. "Good evening, Miss Poppy Fletcher." The AI greeted her.

"Good evening, Maxine," Poppy greeted as if the AI was humane. "Skype my Mum, Maxine."

The AI nodded. "Skyping, Mum, tapping into Genevieve Fletcher's IQ wave, Contacting IQ wave owner, Contact tracked, Connection sent, Connection approved, Welcome Genevieve Fletcher."

The AI greeted Genevieve Fletcher, the mother of Poppy who had accepted the Skype request. The black haired short woman squealed upon seeing her daughter, the man and younger girl next to her covered their ears. Because it was MAX technology the visuals were much clearer than 3d, making the two contacts seem as if they were standing next to each other in real life, and so did the noises as well.

Poppy held her ears. "Mum! Reel it back in!" The mother sucked in a breath and nodded excitedly.

"Oh great all-seeing-eyes! How's my baby doing? Are you feeding right? Oh great all-seeing-eyes you're starving aren't you. Tsk, I bet you haven't cooked anything for yourself, you look like a skeleton!" The mother was referring to the girl who had sat slumped.

The girl next to Genevieve groaned. "In the name of the all-seeing-eyes Mum! You're never this worried about me and I'm your real daughter!"

The statement made her receive two identical flicks on her forehead. The girl was referring to the fact that Poppy was adopted, most Preternatural children didn't know who their real parents were anyways. It wasn't as if the adoption was a traded secret but it was still sensitive in the Fletcher home but the little girl was all but 11 and talking stupid was in her adolescent genes.

"Shut up Tamara," Her Father groused before smiling at Poppy. "Hello, my little flower, how's the school trip? Has it been exciting? Do you love it so far? How-"

"It's been fine dad and I'm eating right, I just had a burrito a few minutes ago. I'm preparing for a party now."

Genevieve squealed again. "Hear that Tony, our baby is going to a party. I can't wait! I wish I was there to pick out your outfit!"

"No need mum, Margaret already helped me pick out something nice."

"Good, good, Margaret has a brilliant fashion sense."

"Yeah….." Poppy trailed off. "Mum, why do people sometimes…?" Poppy wasn't sure how to phrase the question, especially with her father and little sister there.

Mum, why do people think of strangers in a weird way? I've been thinking a lot more than necessary about this strange guy…. No, that all sounded stupid.

"Nothing, forget it,"

"No, no, no, what is it baby? Tell me." Her Mother asked.

"Nothing…. Just forget about it!" She hurriedly deactivated the connection in panic.

What was going on with her now?