Pacifier

🥀Della🍓

It was dark, Deanos little flat was still and silent and me and Sam lay on his sofa the way we always did.

Only tonight neither of us were sleeping.

We had the rolling news on mute, the glow of the screen washing us with artificial light, the screen kept changing, the images and stills always the same.
No updates, at least none we were waiting for anyway.

Something had happened in Manchester, they didn't know what yet but it was bad and the blue lights on the screen surrounding one of Billy Reids nightclubs told us all we needed to know.

My brother and his stupid mates had pulled something off, something big, something dangerous. Something which had seen a lot of people killed. And we didn't know yet who's side had won.

Sam's chest rose and fell tranquil, his breaths lethargic like mine. His t-shirt was soft against my cheek, my face squished sleepily against him. He had one hand behind his head, elbow sharp, the other resting on my head, his fingers in my hair twisting a lock into a curl absent mindedly.

I nuzzled in a little closer to him, trying not to let my mind run away with me. Trying to remind myself that it was only a game.

We weren't really so close as all this. We couldn't be, i couldnt let myself forget who he might be.

And yet my own trick I was playing seemed to be running away with me. Seemed to be taking control of me. Dragging me in deeper everyday despite my better nature.

My affectionate ways came too naturally now and when I let my lips brush his t-shirt I wasn't sure I hadn't wanted to kiss him.

With the first kiss he didn't react, as if he hadn't felt my lips through the cotton of his t-shirt, but with the second i felt him tense and with the third he said my name with a warning and smirk, brushing me away.

"Della pack it in," he said his soft and sleepy chuckle disappointing me in a way which surprised me. Told me again that id lost control, that the game was playing me.

"Don't you like it?" I pouted, looking up at him with the saddest doe eyes I could  manage, knowing he was softer than he let on, knowing I could play him still despite the resistence he showed to get sucked in. His stubbornness to do the job he'd been given without getting distracted or drawn into a teenage girls elaborate escape plan.

"Cute," he sneered, "you're cute, now pack it in," he said it again and turned back to the TV,trying to ignore it when I sighed and settled back down, pretending to give up and be let down.

But something in the way my sigh tickled his neck, something about letting me down, drew him back in and although he tried to fight it for a minute or two longer he gave in. His hand returning to my hair for a moment before he changed his mind, sat up and made me sit up too.

"Della," he sighed, "if I trusted you, I'd kiss you," he smirked, stunning me though I wouldn't show him that.

"Rich coming from the lad who kidnapped me..." I said flatly, turning away from him to look at the TV again, a couple hours ago they'd found a girls body in the cut. They hadn't identified her and i had a feeling it was for that reason we were still watching the TV..

The fighting had started 24 hours before, Oxygen had been shot up, two Bottlemen clubs and a whiskey distillery burnt to the ground. The Reids brewery had been destroyed.

And me and Sam had stayed quiet, laying low in Deanos living room, watching the bloodshed unfold both of us trying to pretend we weren't scared. Waiting for their faces, their mug shots. Waiting for the announcements. Who had been killed and who was a wanted man.