Two

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Wren

"W-what?" I stumble over my words as they run if my lips, my feet scrambling to the floor. I had to hold it inside me earlier not to scream, and now I had to swallow that hold like a lumpy piece of bread. I feel Dace immediately beside me, his heated breath on the nape of my neck.

"Get off my balcony," the voice demands, without a moment's hesitation.

I didn't care what Dace was doing, I just race towards the body-sized window and climb through it to the other side, not looking back once. If it was unsafe-- I was not going to spend a single second on it longer than necessary.

"It's okay," Dace says, trying to calm down the person behind the masculine rasping voice near the ladder. I couldn't make out all the features of his face in the dimly lit room, but I could see his dark pits for eyes, and the right side of his head, his skin gleaming in the thick moonlight. I didn't recognize him right away.

"I know your friend Jack, we're good friends. I'm Dace," he continues, trying to smooth things out, "we've met before."

"I don't recall," the boy spits back in return, his words harsh. "And even if I did, that does not give you the right to trespass into my attic and screw around on my balcony."

"I didn't--"

"Who are you?" I ask out of nowhere. Both of them turn to face me, and I could see the hooked nose of the unknown boy, his razor sharp jawline discernible from where I stand. There was a sudden tangible twist in my abdomen, and I swallow hard again.

"Your voice sounds familiar," I add.

"I'm someone who wants you out of my house," he responds quickly, rather exasperated. His eyes avert to Dace as he slows down, emphasizing, "now, please."

And that was it. As soon as those words left his being, I couldn't shake the palpable ping in my gut. Everything was so clear now, and I was so overwhelmed by the realization, I couldn't sort out my feelings right away. It was him.

"Shawn?" my voice weakens, softens to such a volume, I'm not entirely sure it's audible. "...is that you?"

He looks at me again, his body frozen. He didn't answer me for at least ten seconds, but I didn't need one now-- I was convinced.

Finally his voice comes out so small, yet so greatly terrified-- it could've caused me to burst into tears had I not been in shock myself.

He whispered, "... Ha-- Wren?"

I sigh, the ping slowly trickling away, but I could still feel it inside me, as obvious as blood. "So you do remember me? We only met a few times, I didn't think you would."

He presses his lips together into a thin line, and I could barely see it, but it looked like he smiled a little. "Of course, Wren. Hi."

"Hi!" I say a little too enthusiastically, wanting to embrace him in a tight hug but knowing that would be too awkward for him and probably uncomfortable for me too, considering I've yet to see his full face in artificial light.

"So.. you two know each other?" Dace chuckles.

I step towards him-- Dace-- my arm looping in his. "Shawn, this is Dace. He's my boyfriend."

"That makes a lot of sense," Shawn says quietly, still sighing through each of his words. "I've heard about you from so many people but never actually met you."

"Sorry it had to be like this," Dace laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

"Wren," Shawn turns towards me, and I could hardly see it, but he was biting his lower lip, "could we possibly move downstairs? I don't mean to be rude but I don't really like people up here."

"I understand. I'm really sorry about it, honest."

I glance at Dace, who shrugs, and we follow Shawn through the trap door. I didn't know how I felt about talking to him even more than I already did-- small talk made my insides turn themselves upside down. I already felt like throwing up, climbing down the ladder became a challenge.

I have no idea how we're going to avoid the elephant in between us, i.e., my biggest fear that's held my sanity captive for almost three years now.

I know it's a little deranged, and quite disturbing-- but sometimes I can't help but feel it's the only explanation for my sister's death. And it's not like everyone in Chicago doesn't agree with my deranged and disturbing theory, anyway.

The only person who knows whether or not Shawn is Haven's killer-- is Haven. And confronting her isn't an option anymore.

I didn't know how I felt about beating around a bush like that.

Or how I would hold my breath when I failed to do so.

***

sorry this was short bUT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL DEFINITELY EXPLAIN MORE SINCE YALL ARE FUKKIN CONFUSED LOL

thanks for reading! it makes me happy when u press the star thingy

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