Jack and Alex picked us up that night. All the memories I have from that time are so blurry now, but this one – that night, it suck with me, not all of it, but enough. Just enough to let it haunt me.
I remember sitting in the back of the car, hands laced together listening to old songs playing through the radio. We made a point not to give a damn, neither of us in costume as when we talked about it only a few days prior, we both realised we didn't see a point in it. It turns out the party was out of town, though not far, if you just travelled along the high way you'd be there soon enough. I tried not to notice how his hand gripped mine a little too tight, or the fact that despite that he was acting like he was completely fine.
The party was in some house, large and white it was picturesque. With teenagers and young adults laughing, cups of drink now empty rolling while people tread over them carelessly. The music was loud but vague, and though you could feel the vibrations of the bass throughout your body from the ground beneath your very feet, the song nor its singer could be placed.
From the moment we went in, something felt off. There were too many people, there was too much laughter, there were too many cups being passed around from hand to hand and people in corners passing more than a drink. It was a step back, and I didn't realise that until we were sitting with his old friends again and the faceless that tempted him away weeks ago with the promise of something to make him feel alive acted like nothing had changed.
The men I barely knew called me pet again. They fiddled with my hair as sat by his side, wondering if tonight would end up in a way we both knew would send him hurtling back to square one. His hand stayed in mine, clutched tight between us as people laughed and joints were lit, smoke drifting above our heads and tempting a high that was hard to resist from ground level.
It felt too much like that party months ago now, where he grabbed me a little too hard, and I was a little too out of it to notice at first. But unlike that night, Jack and Alex were nowhere to be found after a while and all that was left were the men that made my skin crawl and the boy by my side that was tempted by the thrill of it all.
I don't remember who it was that leaned across the coffee table, with elbows on their thighs with pretty little blunt rolled between his fingers, and held out over the table. I don't remember who it was that asked if we wanted one, or anything else for that matter with a hazy kind of grin that seemed malevolent in the light that flickered from a the lighter near by. But I remember the look in the eyes of the boy that sat by my side. That wild, feral look of an animal corner. The panic and the want rolling up into one strong, intoxicating feeling that stifled everything else until it would choke you as it clogged your throat with its smoke.
He gripped my hand so tight I swore it felt like my bones would shatter. When he said no, the man before him just tilted his head to the side and everything was quiet for a second. I couldn't remember his words, not clearly at least, though I know now what they meant. Now I know that when he quirked an eyebrow and asked why, he knew the answer. And Calum just shook his head, he knew that he wouldn't let that be the end of it.
Others were quiet. The ones that sat around us with dark eyes and shaky hands, they looked dead as they stared and I felt like an animal on display on the other side of a cage. It felt twisted, strange and wrong. Making my stomach tie in knots and my heart beat irregularly in my chest when he tempted him again, asking why do things have to change – or has he forgotten everything now he had something new to take his mind off of it?
There was laughter. It wasn't light and sweet like his was when we lay over crumbled papers and messy bedsheets, smiling against lips and murmuring things that made no sense. It was dark, malevolent and full of something cruel like bitter truth. I remember how he didn't say a word when he pulled me to my feet, gripping my hand so hard it hurt. I remember feeling small, feeling childlike as he went to lead me away.
But I also remember that mans call from behind, the cackle of laughter and the question lingering in the air of, "blood stains pretty bad, doesn't it? Must have taken a pretty strong hit to wash that out."
And in that moment, nothing made sense.
"Fuck you."
A/N SO I HAVE A SHOW ON THE NEXT DAY IM TO UPDATE AND THE NIGHT AFTER AND THOSE DAYS ARE MEANT TO BE THE LAST TWO CHAPTERS SO
A) DO YOU GUYS WANT TO WAIT UNTIL SATURDAY AND SUNDAY TO GET THE NEXT TWO UPDATES
OR B) DO YOU WANT THEM SOMETIME BETWEEN MONDAY AND THURSDAY
VOTE VOTE AND TELL ME I HOPE YOU ALL HAD A LOVELY WEEK I LOVE YOU ALL UNTIL NEXT TIME OR IN THE COMMENTS GOODBYE MY DARLINGS
PS THE RELATIVITY OF TIME, NEW FIC, GO CHECK THAT OUT OKAY BYE
-rachelx
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pretty chapped lips : malum :
Fanfiction"Once upon a time, I met a boy who would smoke more than he'd weigh." in which michael is a quiet sixteen year old who ghosts through life without really living at all: that is, before he finds himself infatuated with a boy who flirts with death lik...
