Absently, there's turning of pages. Flip, flip, flip. Silver eyes studied, carefully, the blot of text strewn carelessly and unpoeticly across the page. It was tragic, rather, how inaccurate these books were. Rasmus had been looking through books all day on demons, and what really was bothering him, was that all of the books had different information and theories. But none of those books said anything about certain demons claiming people as 'their humans'. It confused Rasmus, and among other things, made him almost fall asleep on this book.

This was definitely not the way this black clad figure wanted to spend his day off, hunched over books, finding out information on the... supernatural. There was a stack of books to his right, and he was already bored, after going through the first book. He was surprised at himself getting this far, though, without anybody noticing him, and with his attention still in tact. Because, you see, Rasmus has a terrible problem with concentrating. He's easily distracted, and this proves to be a major problem.

Anyway. He's wearing a tight enough long-sleeved black shirt, and, tacky enough, a white short-sleeved shirt over top of it. They're both plain, without design. He had a silver pendant hanging from a plastic-like band, which proved to be a dollar purchase necklace Rasmus had taken the interest in chewing on at the moment. The pendant clicked against his teeth as he chewed, thoughtfully, and pushed his thin-rimmed, silver glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. His eyes were sore, though, from reading since the moment Jacobson's opened.

His hair's all messed up, as always, and keeps getting in his eyes and getting him frustrated. He keeps seeing wine red hair, and it's... starting to get him more than a little mad.

So, for pants, he's wearing these weird black nylon-lined pants, that look like they're made out of plastic, but aren't. And, if I didn't mention this before, he's bored. To the point of death.

So much for concentration. Rasmus is about to get a distraction.
Bo Licht had also been in the store since it opened. He was in an entirely different section, and heartily enjoying himself. He was flipping through romance novels; he had something of a knack for quickly finding the good bits. However, the lack of originality sometimes irked him. He sniffed the air for other forms of entertainment.
Warm human flesh. Bo smiled and stood, winding through the bookstore until he found Rasmus.
It's doubtful that the boy would notice him, as he moved so silently...but if he did, he'd see a small, delicate-looking he-she, wearing a tight-fitting black T-shirt, long black jeans...and over those, a pleated skirt, decorated with chains and buckles and suchlike. They didn't even jingle when he moved.
Still holding his novel, he crouched down next to Rasmus, leaning close to his ear. It would be at this point that the boy might become aware of a presence: warm breath, the faint, spicy smell of ginger...
"Demons," he murmured, leaning over to look at the title of Rasmus' book, "are underrated."
Then he leaned back, parting the pages of his romance novel, candleflame eyes moving over the words, his slick pink tongue visible between parted black-painted lips.
His eyes, today, were lined in black, and his mascara was deep gold.

Rasmus had gone so far without anyone interrupting him, that he didn't think someone would come up and bother him at this point. Besides, the pale, silver-eyed boy was too... absorbed in his book he doesn't care to notice someone approaching him. And if he did happen to see the he-she, well... he still wouldn't have been able to hear 'it'.

The sudden voice made Rasmus practically jump right out of his skin, and the tone sent a, however cliche it was, shiver down his spine.

His head snapped up and he woke from hid hslf-doze to look at the person standing beside him. He shut the book, after quickly catching the page number. "Yes," he agreed, voice a low, tired tone, accented by Swedish, "they are."

"You have been here all day."
It was a soft, rich voice, giving no clue as to whether the speaker was male or female; the tone was made harsher, however, by a fairly heavy German accent.
"You are tired. Tell me, why is it you are searching for books of demons?"
He picked up one of Rasmus' discarded books and flipped through, settling on a diagram of an incubus and a succubus. His black lacquered fingernail rested unsettlingly on the genitalia.
"Blue skin. How quaint."

"Indeed, I have. Good observation." Rasmus stared down at the closed book, feeling slightly uncertain whether this person was safe or not. "You wouldn't understand, even if I told you," he gave a lazy, one shouldered shrug.

He stared, puzzled, at the man. "Not all of them have blue skin."

"Ah, how quickly you underestimate me." He sighed in mock woe, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. "Try me. I understand a lot of things."
He giggled softly, looking down at the picture again.
"I know they don't, silly. That's why it's quaint."

"Mm, all right. I've been claimed as a pet, by a demon. He calls me by this name... Velvilje. I don't know his name. Says he'll be back. Damn well almost killed me." He crossed his arms over his chest, almost as if embarrased. "I wouldn't say it's abnormal, though."

Bo smiled, brushing a lock of deep red hair out of Rasmus' face.
"You didn't think I would believe you. So it isn't abnormal to be made the pet of a demon?"
Despite the rather light tone he was taking, Bo's face was concerned...sympathetic.

"Not really. I thought he'd eat me, though. Set off a gun, and he came poking around in my business. Iunno. He told me... he was dead. And he liked the effect that had on me." He almost shuddered. "I... can't stand dead things."

Rasmus would've been wincing, if he wasn't trying so hard to keep his face clear of that horrible, terrified expression it usually held when he thought about the matter. His gaze veered off to the pile of books on the other side of him.

"You are sure it was a demon? There are dead things that are not demons."
Poor thing, he had to stop himself from saying, you're scared to death.
As usual, his heart went out to the kid. He touched his shoulder gently.
"You must have been quite frightened."

"Mhmm, I'm sure. He didn't say it... but... I'm sure of it. Claws, teeth, white eyes, tattered wings... I'm just saying... it might... not be one, but... he looked... like one." He realized he was taking long pauses between words, and decided to straighten from his hunched position.

He sighed. "I was. I don't want him to be back."

"You still are quite frightened. There is nothing here now, you know. And even if there was..."
Again, that odd girlish giggle.
"I'm not as defenseless as I look."
A slight frown. This wasn't working. Carefully, he moved his arm so that it was across both Rasmus' shoulders.
"There now, it's all right. Don't be afraid."
He knew he shouldn't say what he was about to say. He knew it. He couldn't afford to...but he said it anyway.
"...you could stay with me for a few days, if you're frightened."
And he hadn't even introduced himself yet.

Rasmus almost flushed a bright red. He could tell that he was still scared? Damn it. A little bit of red that Rasmus couldn't block crept up on his cheeks, but he was still looking the other way. "You don't know. Things lurk. I thought that house was abandoned..." he trailed off, his train of thought leaking into his speech.

"Mm, hey. I can't help it."

He paused, and with a gentle sigh, looked back Bo's way. "My mother would worry."

He didn't skip a beat.
"I could stay with you for a few days, then. I am never much trouble. I would pay for my food...and I could keep you safe."
An uncomfortable pause. That had felt too much like a lie.
"Well, I could try. And you would not be alone with your fear."

"I... don't know if my mother would allow you in her house. I mean, she's not home most of the time, but..." he trailed off again. "By the way... I'm Rasmus." How stupid of him! He'd been so concentrated on Bo that he'd forgot about introductions.

"I'm Bo."
Funny how the name doesn't give any clues about his gender.
"I could hide."
If you had one of those translator books, you know the ones that say "What they say and what they really mean," what Bo really meant would be Please please please please let me help you.

The name left Rasmus still guessing at his gender. He wasn't exactly sure, but wasn't about to ask. "Well, I guess, but... you'd have to be... hidden well." Rasmus is still very skeptical of this idea.

"Does your mother regularly rummage under your bed? In your closet? In your...drawer?"
The temptation was great to say 'underwear' in place of '...', but Bo managed to keep it appropriate.

"No, not really. Like I said, she's hardly ever home... It's just. I don't know. I mean, if she found you she'd kill you. Or better yet, me." And, yet, as much as Rasmus was making excuses, it would've been nice to have someone around.

"She would not kill me. And I would not let her kill you."
He made it sound so simple.

"Mn... nnkay." He agreed, reluctantly. Indeed, he did make it sound simple.

Sort of stressed, he opened one of the books to skim through more information.

Satisfied, he leaned back and returned his eyes to the romance novel, giggling at the prosey descriptions every now and again.

After a couple more minutes of reading, Rasmus felt too distracted to absorb any more information. He stood, and without stretching, grabbed the pile of books (which felt like they weighed a ton) and slowly made his way to put them all back in their respectful places.

Completely silently, Bo took books from Rasmus' stack and returned them to their shelves. So subtle was he that it seemed as if the weight was disappearing by magic.

After a few minutes, all the books were returned to their places. "I'm going to leave," he comments, and slowly makes his way to the exit of Jacobson's.

Wordlessly, Bo followed, his steps as silent as ever. Not that he was trying to hide; it was just the way he moved.

After Rasmus pushed open the doors and got outside the building, he caught sight of something, and suddenly took off at a run. Kid probably looked crazy. He didn't even look back to see if Bo was following.

(Ummm...kay. Thatwasweird.)

With someone like Bo, it doesn't matter if you're looking or not. He's there.
Despite having rather short legs, Bo ran quickly, keeping a steady several paces behind Rasmus.
He still wasn't jingling. Probably had some kind of spell on those chains.

Oh shit. It just occured to him that he probably left Bo behind. Oh, well. With a sigh, and feeling rather stupid, Rasmus slowed to a walk, not thinking to look back over his shoulder. He didn't hear Bo following, so he thought he wasn't. Didn't matter, anyway.