Page 38 of Finding Fate

"Well that's very pessimistic of you, Poppy. And here I expected an optimistic attitude from you."

The cup at my lips muffles my huffed laugh. "Maybe before everything went to crap, but not now. Not after. You don't know me."

"I know a lot more than you realize." His tone falls serious for once.

"Like what?" I question, now a bit intrigued. What could he know, and how?

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yep, the file they gave us on the flight was detailed. Why you're here, pictures, background, everything. Well, almost everything. There's one thing that's been nagging at me."

"I'm afraid to ask," I admit, which is the truth, but for some reason I find myself smiling.

"I'm not complaining, because the look fits you, but why pink hair?"

My shoulders rise and fall in an exaggerated shrug.

"Tell me, please. I really want to know."

Turning back to the wall, I sigh and stare down at the dirt. "Because I don't want attention, but I want to be seen." With the tips of my finger, I doodle his name in the dirt. "I'm not the type of girl who walks into a room and owns it. I'm quiet and prefer to be alone, but I guess the pink hair helps me feel... if people take notice of me, maybe I’m not as invisible as I feel most days."

Damn, it feels good to talk to someone. Talk about the real me.

"Wow.”

"What?" I say dryly.

"That's some deep symbolism for pink hair."

"You asked!" I hiss and turn to glare him down. "I don't like you."

"Sure you do, Poppy."

My nostrils flare in annoyance as I push from the ground and storm across the room. Standing face-to-face, I tip my head back and meet his amused gaze. "Stop calling me that. It's not my name."

"Poppy."

"Stop."

"Poppy. Pops. Both have a nice ring to it."

"Stop it!" I shout.

And I'm an idiot who lets her emotions get the best of her, making her forget where she is.

In the second it takes for the door to unlock, I drop to the ground and Nash moves to the other side of his makeshift cell. My door flings open and a man storms through with a tight grip on his gun.

"Bug," I say in defense to my outburst, lifting my hands so he can see my exaggerated shrug. "Big bug."

With an annoyed shout, though I have no idea what he says, the door slams closed once again.

I wait a few seconds before turning to Nash, only to find his hand over his mouth in an attempt to cover an ear-to-ear grin.

"Nice one. Poppy."

I bang my head against the wooden boards and groan. "This is why I prefer my cave and books. No annoying men."

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