Keep Running (Killjoy)

04

P.P.'s POV:

As I finished my sentence, Destroya looked thoughtful at the words she had just heard. My gaze was fixed on her, thinking of her features the way that the artist in me would. The surprising light shade of her skin, defined jawline, mysterious tone of gray in her eyes, moderately soft facial structure, light red blush of her cheeks, dark eyelashes, well-shaped eyebrows, and contrasting mix of silver with blue hair. It was cool to think in an artist's perspective since you don't really judge people, you recognize the detail in their features.

I was about to say something to her to fill the silence as we walked down the hall, but her body began to tip down. Out of instinct, I stepped closer with my arms outretched to catch her as she fell limply onto me. Luckily for me, Destroya wasn't all that heavy and was easy to carry back to her room. Although, that meant that she probably hadn't eaten much and ran on an empty stomach which made her pass out.

Both of our friend groups had moved out of the hallway and gone to hang out somewhere else. I placed her down on the same bed she had napped on earlier, trying to think of what to do with her. Only Jet Star had actual, successful experience with taking care of people who were sick or didn't feel okay so I called him out of his room. The girls she came with looked worried and crowded into the room to see her.

Her eyes blinked open at the noise and she cringed a bit in confusion of what just happened. She sat up from the bed, placing a hand immediately up to her forehead which clearly seemed to be hurting her.

"Did I pass out?" Destroya's voice rasped.

"Yup." I nodded.

She sighed, rubbing her head to dull the pain.

"Do you want something for your head?" Jet Star asked.

She nodded with a frown and Jet Star left the room to bring her some medication.

"You okay?" Grenade, with the fiery red-orange hair, checked her friend's condition.

Destroya nodded with a slight smile appearing on her face to comfort her friend. Wyvern had become sleepy at that point and went into her own section of the room. The other two followed her lead, yawning and collapsing on top of their beds. I kept sitting at her bedside as she grumbled with silver-blue hair dangling around her pale face. Her gray eyes shifted over to look at mine, not even two feet away. The black pupils expanded to cover more of her irises and she fell backwards limply again. With a tiny smidge of guilt, I chuckled at her fainting again because it looked like I had some sort of power in my eyes that caused her to faint.

Jet Star came back, "What did you do to her?"

"I have no fücking clue." Was my reply.

"Well, get her back up so she can eat something and take these meds." He commanded.

This time, she managed to come to on her own a few moments after Jet Star had talked in his moderately-quiet voice. She looked completely frazzled and displaced, like she couldn't remember where she was.

"Hey, Destroya. You alright? You've passed out twice and it's been less than two hours." I told her.

"Shush, we have to see if she actually is fine. Can you tell me three things you know about yourself?" Jet Star took over playing doctor.

"Um, I'm a killjoy named Destructive Ambrosia...I'm twenty two...and I drive a 1979 Dodge Viper GTS." She recited.

"Okay, good. When was the last time you ate?" He continued.

"Yesterday in the evening."

"And when did you wake up today?"

"About 6 am."

"You've been fainting from not eating and still running and being active, so you've got to eat something and rest. If your head hurts, here's some medication for it." He told her, placing whatever she might've needed onto one side of her bed.

"Thanks." She smiled and looked down at the blanket she was sitting on while he left the room.

The girl sitting before me reached for the snack foods Jet Star had brought for her and finally ate something. Amidst her eating, she asked me why she'd passed out the second time.

"It was fücking weird, you looked at me and your eyes did this thing where the pupils got bigger and then you just kind of fell over." I explained, causing her to laugh at my poor explanation.

"You're right, that was weird. Sorry for fainting practically each time you're about to talk to me." Destroya apologized.

"Don't be sorry over that, you didn't control it. At least now you can avoid that situation and have proper food all the time here."

"Yeah, thanks for taking us in."

"You guys seem pretty valuable for our side so you're really doing us a favor. We'll probably get sent off together on some missions from Dr. D tomorrow morning, so you might want to get ready for that. It's never easy to beat a crowd of Dracs so you'll need all the rest and energy you can get. Stay strong." I signed off to her, getting up and exiting the room.

But her strong hand on my shoulder pulled me back and turned me to face towards her. I was stuck in her gray-eyed vision as the words coming out of everyone else's mouth blurred, as they were tagged as being talkative and irrelevant in the moment. Her pupils dilated again, however not as extremely as last time, and gained a mischievous spark. My confused expression had told her everything she needed to know.

Her fear had all disappeared and I only realized it when my eyes were shut from contact of our lips. Destroya wasn't even half-bad, in fact, I was enjoying it and possibly feeling like continuing in a less-innocent form. My hands were uncontrollable around her waist and back while my hips couldn't help but press forward a bit to touch hers. A few moments later though, she re-gained control of her head again and pulled back for breath. Ambition now replaced by fear, she glanced at me partially in apology and partially afraid of what my reaction was.

"You're good there, Destroya." I smirked while swaggering out into the hallway and back to my room.

As I turned, there was an undeniable smile and pink blush covering her face. Her hand raked back some of her hair and she, this time purposely, crashed over the top of her bed. That was the fastest acceleration into any type of relation to someone I'd met that same day.