youngblood // p. hockstetter // 0.1

//nine

•••

It was in the first 45 minutes of the film that Rosemary realised how shit the movie was.

As much as she would've loved to stare at Jenny Seagrove all day, she held a certain disdain for coven and sacrificial films. Jude had firmly planted himself between Rosemary and the other boys, but seemed too engrossed in the film to notice the not so subtle looks that Patrick was giving an equally oblivious Rosemary. It wasn't until Camilla begun killing the gang members that Rosemary nudged Jude, whom was transfixed on the screen .

"Hm?"

"I'm going to the bathroom" Not wanting to walk in front of the boys, she turned and walked the opposite way, descending the stairs and walking out the door on the left side of the theatre, earning a couple of irritated looks from movie watchers. Stepping into the corridor, she found it completely empty, not a single person in sight as the theatre doors where firmly shut. Muttering in irritation, she begun walking towards the bathrooms in a huff.

She could be at home, finishing the shit tonnes of homework given to her that day, or better yet walking around Derry. There was so much more she could be doing then sitting in a theatre house with a group of teenage boys watching a sub-par movie. Finding the male and female bathrooms opposite each other, she descended the small stairway before slipping inside, being met with complete deafening silence.

After doing her business, she washed her hands and stared in the mirror.

She wouldn't let her stress get in the way of how she looked, she refused to let that happen. She pinched the skin beneath her jaw, her neck and cheeks, now regretting everything she'd just eaten. "Fuck" She muttered, running a hand through her icy blonde hair. Her cheeks where slightly flushed, undoubtedly from the heat of being so close to her brother for so long. Stepping away, she re-arranged her hair and smoothed her dress before stepping out of the bathroom, contemplating whether she could sneak into another movie. She hastily ran up the stairs, her head lowered as she watched the steps.

Patrick had just stepped into the small area of flooring which connected the two bathrooms when she ran into him, however unlike their first encounter, neither of them fell as Patrick caught her by her elbows. Letting out a small gasp of surprise, Rosemary looked up with an apology on the peak of her tongue before she realised whom she'd ran into, his eyes watching her perfectly mastered filter as she shyly smiled. "We really need to stop running into each other like this" She tried to pull away but a quick tug and he'd pulled her flush against his front, his thumbs rubbing rhythmically against her forearms. She stilled, closing her eyes as he leered at her with an unsettlingly unpleasant grin. There was an unbearable intensity to his actions that didn't quite scare her, just mildly disturbed her. "Please let go" There was a hint of anger in her tone, but it was wrapped in layer upon layer of false fear and naivety which only excited him more.

"Still think I can't handle a girl like you?" Patrick taunted, twisting his neck to stare down at her as he leant forward. She yanked at her arms, her legs brushing his as she placed her hands against his body and pushed. He tensed, evidently struggling but winning regardless. She grunted and he smiled at her, his teeth stained with actions Rosemary could very accurately imagine him doing.

In a moments decision, he let go of her arms as she pushed off him. He thought she may tumble down the stairs, she might break her neck, or better yet she'd knock her head and bleed something awful down the staircase.

But she didn't, for a moment she grasped air, her feet fumbling on nothing, before she caught her hand on the bannister that followed the stairs along the wall and stopped her descent. Eyes wide and heart hammering in her chest, she took long, shaky breaths as her chest quaked at how very near she'd come to falling down a flight of tiled stairs and images flashed before her eyes. Her hair soaked in blood, her twitching body, and Patrick watching her bleed to death on the stairs, content. Slowly, she slumped against the walls, her hands shaking as they held the bannister.