Chapter Eight

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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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I exhaled. I turned the key. The lock clicked. I pushed the door. It creaked. I freaked. No, not anymore—I'm out of here. I crawled out and jumped up. Too fast. That was too fast. My legs, not used to getting up and walking around in a while, felt like jelly, and not the good 'I'm in love' kind. I brushed it off. But I couldn't brush off the fact that there were other prisoners. Would I leave them? Do I throw them the keys? 

Think seriously, Sky. What is logical? What is safe for everyone? I pushed the keys into the pocket of my worn out hoody, the one I used to love, making the decision to tell the police that there are still people locked up inside.

I found the door easily and started for it, trying to block out the screams and shouts of those who thought I was abandoning them. I still felt bad, though. I had trouble with the door, but I eventually kicked it open. I ran outside. I ran out into the middle of a war.

They weren't the police.
I knew instantly.

They were Guardians.

In the middle of the crossfire, I had to hide from many bullets.

Then I ran into someone.
I looked up in fear.

"Sky?" My voice wouldn't work.

It was Kim.

But the name wouldn't rise to my lips. Branches snapped behind us and she pushed me behind her and shot someone.

"Run!" She screamed, "Find the truck!" She pushed me and I stumbled. Then I sprinted. Or, at least I tried. My legs had energy, but they were tired. They were out of shape. But I pushed.

Then I stopped.
Just in front of me was a battle.
But that's not why I stopped.

The wind hit me. My hair whipped around my body and the leaves rustled by my feet, some picking up in the wind and circling around us. His lips parted, I could even see his eyes widen. He nearly dropped his weapons, I almost dropped to the floor.

Shots were fired in slow motion, people fought in slow motion, people fell in slow motion. The whole world rotated in slow motion as our eyes met. I could tell from this distance he hadn't changed much, except for the stubble shadowing those lips that I knew and had loved.

In that moment, it didn't matter what he had done, or hadn't done. I didn't care that he had aided in my downfall. To me, nothing mattered. Just him. And that's why, when I ran into his arms, I also ran into a battlefield.

I was shoved around as people fought. No one seemed to notice me, as if I was invisible. In the corner of my eye I saw someone's arm raise. I flinched. Then I couldn't see a thing.

A body was blocking my view, but over their shoulder I saw the previous threat fall to the floor. Then the body turned. It was him. His perfectly illustrated features on his perfectly sculpted face. I was no longer angry at him. How could I be? Looking at his face, I only knew how to love.

His name lingered on the tip of my tongue, fluttering as quiet as a whisper, as light as a feather. And suddenly, I needed him. He was my protector. His eyes wandered all over me, we didn't make contact, but our souls united without a words notice. We didn't even have to try, we fell back into sync.

Then his name fell.

"Jameson."

Jameson's eyes came alive, they lit up, they burned with a fire of passion, of relief, of happiness. My heart jumped one two many times. He reached up and out, his fingers nearing the skin of my face. I waited, more than ready. Anticipation and tension grew with every gunshot we didn't hear as electricity sparked between his fingers and my face, awaiting the surge.

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