( I 'm certain you 've heard this a million times, but please have patience with me to read all the text and all the series. Though there is n't any sex in this, you will get to grips with Alice and Elixir. I 'm aspiring to be a novelist and decided to try my hand at this. Please leave constructive critique and do n't annotate saying you do n't get the story later on, because my reply will be you have n't read the entirely thing. Enjoy ! )

'' Hey fag ! ``

Well, what a wonderful way to originate my first day at a new school. This was going to be a treat. Before prying eyes of jock and cheerleaders alike I cowered, trying to think well-chosen thinking. It did n't puzzle out. Once the row left the mother fucker, the unhurt schoolroom erupted into torrents of laughter that turned my face florid.

Some did n't laugh. Probably out of respect. Or the fact they did n't find oneself mother fucker amusing. Whichever it was, I was glad that some the great unwashed knew my emplacement. Joining in the middle of 1st semester, when the cliques had formed, was the last matter I wanted to befall. Outcast in this world of mainstream-ness, chinos, converse and snapbacks, I sheltered in the pernicious fact that my notional Prince Charming had killed everyone of the laughing asses.

He had charged in with an AK47, blasted the shit out of them, kissed me discretely then left.

In reality, I was still gazing at my checked pumps with the mismatch lacing ; one commons, one pink. The glister of one of the many mountain chain hanging from my pant caught my attention the way a magpie was attracted to a argent composition. My mom called me that.

'' My footling magpie. ``, she used to coo whilst I huddled in her weapons system. That was a decade ago, and her comfort was long gone. Now, I had to confront this cosmos alone.

At fifteen, bisexual person, braces, five-seven and completely fucking Wyrd, life story was n't going too well. I still had n't made eye impinging with anyone in peculiar, but it was my first mistake in doing so.

'' What the fuck is improper with his centre ? ``, shouted the cocksucker again.

They all stared. They always do. Everyone does. And I hate it.

I was born with a genetical chromosomal mutation that has been passed down through my female parent 's side of the family. It is known as Alexandria 's Genesis. With this consideration, my heart started as pale violet-blue when I was born. During puberty, they darkened to royal purple, but now, they are robust plum in color. It looks like I 'm wearing contact lenses. And they cause me a never ending pelter of unhappiness.

Oh, but, they do n't get me any problems at all, actually. Not physically anyways. My eyesight is, and will remain to my death, twenty-twenty ; my immune system is one century and ninety percent more good than the intermediate homo ; I can live twenty dollar bill to fifty geezerhood longer ; at the age of sixteen my aging rate will decelerate, then halt completely when I am forty.

There 's many benefit of the Genesis. But being a kid like me, abhorred by everyone, even my household, it 's downfalls override the reward by a fair mile.

My pale, thin complexion, raven pitch blackness hairsbreadth and lean human body do not congratulate it at all. If anything, it looks like and eye tattoo gone drastically wrong. It 's as I 'm telling you this that our tutor, Ms Wilkinson, manages to calm the rabble which I am paying no attention to. Then it happens.

The regretful section aside my mutation. My name.

'' This, '', states the beaky woman who is leaning so far over the mesa everyone aside me has a readable sentiment into the abyss of her segmentation, `` Is our new student, Alice Louis Harold Gray. '' Fuck.

'' Alice ! ``, returned some of the bunghole, chortling with merciless laugh.

'' Enough ! ``, Wilkinson bellows. Wow. Her ex-pornstar appearance completely belies the animal within. I feel sorry for her hubby, or husbands. She seems that character of char, but who am I to try ? Her hawklike eyes scrutinize the form before her, silent and staring.

I then take the chance to gaze up again and take note my new classmate. None spirit exactly the courteous of fellow, and there seems to be only two cliques of daughter ; adulteress and goths. What the fuck ? Did they purposefully put me in this class so I had no one to mix with ? I suspect so.

Then, third from the leftfield on the back row, I see him ...

Light, honeycomb hair, with delicate trickles of pig black flowing through the justly side of meat, so perfect and yet odd, it looked as though someone had taken a brush and painted it into the pale pep. Despite it being tied up loosely, it still trailed down his back, down the fundament of his black shirt. The tusk tie hung loose around a slim, blench neck opening, the collar bones visible. He appears to be wearing chain trouser, similar to me, and Marine boots with crumpled sides.

A silver stud belt glints at me from afar.

And like a magpie to silver, I fell in love with the medieval boy, sat third gear from the left, on the back up row.

'' You can sit at the back, side by side to Elixir. '' ... that name ... I almost stumbled forward in my attempt to follow club, eye still locked on those enticing amobarbital sodium irises which belonged to the one named philosophers' stone.

A smile crept onto his fragile, knock lips. Alluring, but frightening too ... Fuck ... the desks are double. I have to sit literally following to him. Whatever god gives a shit about me, please do n't let me fart or do something stupid ... Please ...

'' Hi. '' God damnit his spokesperson is so sexy. Low and lilting, and what 's this ? ! He 's English ? ! He 's frickin English ? ! Do n't conceive about the boner, obscure it Alice !

'' Hey. ``, I reply awkwardly, slipping into the seat at his face. Please leave the conversation there, I begged him in my mind, please please please ... No such fucking hope. Toward me he extended a hand clad in fingerless shameful gloves ; thank god. If he was wearing gloves perhaps he would n't note how hot my hired hand was.

Taking the slender fingerbreadth and strong palm, we shook hired man, and I replied with an almost level voice, `` Alice. '' The grin he cast me was enchanting, and of him I took in a million things.

Through his compensate ear was an expander, in the shape of a rose littered with thorns. Naturally thick lashes accentuated the brilliant blue air of his oculus, which were shadowed a little by the sweeping position fringe, long enough to tie back, but he must have his orientation. Scooping away the honey colored hairsbreadth and blackness strays, he kept gazing at me, and I stared good back.

His eye were the lying in wait, and I was his hare. I was helpless in those turquoise ocean, floundering and drowning in their stunner. I 'm such a lame romantic. Fuck it. Eventually, he seemed to consider that he had tortured his prey enough, and looked back as Wilkinson began in that scratchy drone. Though the trapper had left his catch, it remained within the John Cage.

How could a simpleton like me fall so easily in love with a god like him ? But was it really love ? Or just my way of describing awkwardness ?

One more glance at his elegant profile, one more longing looking at at those luscious lips with black snakebites and I knew ...

It was definitely love ...