*Larrikin: Disorderly, rowdy
They were a larrikin lot, but perhaps that was what attracted her to them.
A bunch of no good misfits with torn up jeans and oversized, over-worn shirts.
And her a shy book worm with a neat cardigan and plaid skirt.
Something about their nature, their larrikin disposition caught her breath in her throat, and not in a terrified mouse kind of way.
However it was him who really caught her, reeled her in like a fish on a hook.
His calm anarchist look, those soft brooding eyes with a hint of danger.
There was no resisting their larrikin charm.
– END –