╰┈➤ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭

                            𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘦

                    ❛ her eyes are like angels, but her heart is cold❜

"𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋."

"Poppy." The taller man wearily side eyed her, "What do you want?" Draped in her all white outfit, gold jewelry dangling from her wrists, ears, neck and fingers, the soft blue light of his office made her seem heavenly.

Her big soft eyes peered up at him, her heels making her only have to slightly crane her neck. Anyone else would find the girl in front of him stunning. Miguel found her terrifying.

"You know what I'm here for pretty boy." A mischievous smile crept onto her face, Miguel tiredly rubbed a hand over his face.

"Poppy you can't have my office." "Aw but I really want it." "But you don't need it, last I checked you weren't the leader. What do you even need my office for?" "Art studio." "Art studio?" Poppy nodded backing away from the taller man.

"I didn't even know you can draw." "First off, je suis parfaite, je peux tout faire." She rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in existence. "Second off, it's not for me, it's for your girl."

Miguel quirked an eyebrow at her, "Isla? I didn't know she liked art."

He regretted that statement almost immediately. Poppy slowly turned around, her grin so wide you could see all thirty two of her pearly white teeth.

"I wasn't talking about Isla, I thought you hated her?" Poppy walked towards him, smile growing wider, with every step she took towards him, Miguel took a step back. Her big sweet doe eyes may have hid her intentions but they didn't fool him, he knew better after their last conversation.

"I do." "Menteur" "English, Parker." Poppy stopped her movements, smile falling. "Don't tell me what to do." "Yes m'am."

"You're a bad liar O'Hara, but I'll let it slide for now. I was talking about Love by the way." Miguel stared at the French girl slack jawed, "Love is not 'my girl' that is highly inappropriate." "Calm down pretty boy I meant she's like your daughter. And she's your favorite out of everyone." "She is not-" "Don't even try it."

Poppy absent-mindedly gaze at the rings that littered her fingers. "She hasn't been able to find 'inspiration' back in her dimension and I wanted to help. I feel like this would get the creativity well to really flow through her, you understand what I mean?" "I don't, and Love is doing just fine with inspiration, if she wasn't she would have told me."

"Oh would she? Because she mentioned it to me and Hobie at lunch the other day."

How do you bully a grown man? Especially in such a calm and graceful manner? Miguel felt offended and entranced.

Love strolled into Miguel's office, Hobie right on her heels. "Oh thank god." Miguel sighed approaching his platform. He stood atop it as it slowly began to rise. "Hobie get your girlfriend and get out of here she's annoying me."

"I'm not his girlfriend." Poppy crossed her arms, "You could be." Hobie winked standing her side, hands shoved into his jean pockets. "I won't." She shot him a small glare. "We'll see." He smirked, Poppy huffed, her soft round cheeks puffing out.

An agitated baby bunny.

"What were you two talking about," Love questioned, swinging to Miguel's side.

"I'm not even sure, I wasn't paying attention." Miguel lied, refusing to face the group of teens below, he could feel Poppy's eyes boring into the back of his head.

"It must be age inflicted memory loss due to old age." Poppy sighed tapping her cheek with her freshly painted blush pink nail.

"Such a shame, we can talk about this again, maybe this time you can write it down." Poppy smiled, grabbing Hobie's hand as she pulled him out of the office. As the two made their way out of the office, hand in hand, Poppy turned her head one last time to face Miguel.

"Salut!"

Things about the real Poppy Parker that no one would know:

1.She goes to war for the things she adores 

2.Despite her angelic demeanor, she was secretly terrifying

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓?"

Hobie asked casually as the two walked through the halls of spider society. "As long as it's not in the UK, then sure." Poppy shrugged, "Whaddya got 'gainst the UK mate?"

"Whaddya got 'gainst the UK mate." Poppy mocked him, lowering the octave of her voice and presenting an awful attempt at a British accent.

"S'not funny, knock it." "S'not funny? I think it's rather funny luv." Hobie rolled his eyes, in actuality he would let her continue on for as long as she wanted.

Anything that kept her from realizing they were still holding hands.

"How would you like it if I mocked your accent?" He raised an eyebrow, "Give it a go." Poppy shrugged. "Bonsoir, My name iz POPpy parKER, I'm preTTY and smART and pinK." Her plush pink lips turned up into a small smile. "You didn't even try, why are you accentuating so much?" "Zis iz how you talk POPpy."

Poppy giggled, "No it is not." "Oui." Poppy rolled her eyes. Hobie needed to keep her distracted, they hardly hung out one on one, Love was always somehow in the mix, "you ever want to learn to play the guitar?"

𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘'𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐊

still stood. She would like to make that very clear. But Hobie had practically begged her to come with him to his flat, (he asked her once and she folded immediately.)

So here she was, on the sofa in Hobie's flat sat between his thinghs, his heavy electric guitar rested in her lap, the neck rest delicately between her painted fingers.

What the fuck is happening.

She could hardly focus on her strumming because Hobie was leaning over her shoulder, his husky voice whispering directions in his ear.

Fucking hell.

"Alright luv, do you remember what I told you?" Hobie whispered in her ear. His breath tickled her neck. He had to be doing this on purpose. Poppy squirmed, "Yes." No.

"'right then, what are the six strings?" "E,A,D-" Poppy's breath hitched when he felt the rough palm of his hand cover hers, guiding it to the correct strings.

"Don't stop."

Fucking hell.

"G,B,E." Poppy mumbled. "Okay now strum the D cord." She did. Maybe, she really wasn't sure, she just guessed. Hobie nodded, "Now G" She did. "Wrong chord." She didn't. His hand guided hers, gently stroking the G chord, it's soft melody rang through the silence of the room. "Now do E,B,G." She took a deep breath, trying her hardest to remember which was which. Taking a leap of faith, she stroked three of the cords.

"Good girl."

Fucking. Hell.

She hurriedly scurried off the couch, guitar still in hand.  "You know, I've never been to the UK." She sputtered, desperately trying to change the topic. Hobie leaned back, legs still spread from where she previously sat. Poppy wasn't a fan of the cheeky grin he was sporting.

"Never?" Poppy shook her head, "Well I've never been to France." He shrugged, looking her up and down. "Well maybe I could show you one day." "And maybe I could show you the UK." Poppy smiled, "I'd like that."

Poppy pulled out her phone, checking the time back in her dimension. "Well I must be off." She hurriedly punched in the code into her watch, a bright yellow glow filled the dingy sitting room.

Hobie stood up from the couch, slowly approaching the girl. "Ya know I like this outfit, suits you." "Yeah?" "Yeah. Makes you look like an angel." 

The two stared at each other for a bit. Poppy taken in the man in front of her bit by bit whilst Hobie seemed to have gotten lost in the dusty abyss that was her eyes. Poppy cleared her throat snapping him out of his trance. "Got something for you."

Hobie fished in one of his many pant pockets before pulling out a sparkly pink guitar pick.

Poppy squealed, as he placed it in her hand, a small smirk painted his face. "Made me think of you."

Poppy beamed up at him, "Thank you Hobie." "No problem dovey."

Things about the real Poppy Parker that no one would know:

1.She goes to war for the things she adores

2. Despite her angelic demeanor, she was secretly terrifying

3. She was very easy to fluster 

4. She appreciated little gestures 

LOVE SPEAKS!

Poppy is 18, Hobie is 19. Don't even try to convince me that man is still in high school because I don't believe you and I don't care. Thank you guys so much for all your support but just so you guys know. This is not a slowburn. Like at all. These two will probably be together by the tenth chapter. 

This is not proofread

je suis parfaite, je peux tout faire. = I am perfect, I can do everything

salut = hello/goodbye

le menteur = liar/ you're lying 

Feel free to correct me, I don't speak French.

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