Re: Queens: Wren & Saint.
She'd forgotten bright. Yellow like sunshine, and she'd always blended into these places. Like something born of the environment, she'd never stood out as something clean and bright that didn't belong. That was new, and that was now, and walking these streets made her forgot who she was, just as it made her remember who she'd been. Because she'd been that girl longer, the one with a filthy hem and nothing beneath. But she was clean, bright from the gleam of her shining hair to the tips of her painted toenails. She stood out, the girl in yellow, like something blinding amid the dull grey of the canvas that was this world.
She'd forgotten, and Saint said to stay out of the light, but the man with the tattoos was already looking.
The boy was gone, inside, and Wren took an unthinking step forward to pursue. But she didn't need to bother, because she heard the breath that ruffled her hair from behind before she ever heard someone approach. There, a man with the same neck tattoo, and she turned slowly to look at him. Her expression was vacancy, because she knew men like him, and she was only sorry she'd gotten Saint caught on her hook.
"Inside," said the man, his accent thick New York, and Wren took a step forward, obeisance without thought, and with the knowledge that Luke was going to be really, really angry if he found out about this.