Enough | ✔️

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● qυorra neverѕea ●

A groan breaks past his lips, the very sound awakening something inside of me. I scrape my teeth past his neck harder, before reaching up to tangle my fingers through his silky hair. He returns my vigour, our lips finding each other and tongues dancing to an intoxicating rhythm. His fingers reach down to the hem of my shirt, scalding touch searing my heated skin.

A sound snatches my focus. Is that... talking outside?

"Wait," I grab Slater's wandering hands, rendered breathless by his addictive touch.

He stops, chocolaate eyes lifting to mine as our laboured breaths fill the air, "What's wrong?"

I pull away from him and lean towards the entrance of the tent.

Silence.

"Did you not hear that?" I speak my thoughts aloud, "I thought I heard something..."

Catching his breath, he shakes his head.

Am I going mad?

I sigh and shake it off, straightening my shirt and dragging my fingers through my hair, "Sorry, never mind. I-I've just been paranoid lately. What if we-"

He presses a chaste kiss to the side of my mouth to shut me up, "Don't even suggest that, Quorra. We'll be alright. This," he looks at me pointedly, "was a momentary lapse in judgement for me, but I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Everything is still a risk until you graduate."

"Or drop out," I mutter, failing to mask the deflation in my tone.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

I twirl my marshmallow on its stick mindlessly, watching the flames of the campfire dance around its pillowy edges. The glowing warmth of the fire wraps me in a comforting hug, and the small group of laughing students gathered around me transports me back to old halcyon days, yet my thoughts can't help but tiptoe back to the one person who hasn't left my mind since the first goddamn moment I met him.

By the time I've realised that my marshmallow has caught on fire and is melting into a goopy puddle, its too late. I stare down at the blackened slime plastered across the ground and sigh, setting my stick down beside me and resorting to a marshmallow-less s'more. Sandwiching the two pieces of cracker together with a tablet of chocolate, I nibble on the edge.

At the sound of a chuckle, a flurry of chills skitters down my spine.

I look up, meeting icy blue eyes framed by messy blonde hair.

My heart stills in my chest as my chocolatey dessert slips from my fingers in slow motion. His lips curl up in a smile.

My feet are carrying me far, far away before I register a single letter of his name.

Time restarts. My blood pumps through my veins and my heart hammers in my chest as I half-stumble and half-run away from the soft glow of the campfire. I hear him chasing after me, like a predator. Clear blue eyes tattoo themselves to the inside of my eyelids. I feel myself collide with something rough, and before I know it, I'm clutching a tree trunk for support - whether it is a physical or mental crutch I need more right now, I don't know.

"Quorra, what's wrong?"

I whip around as if slapped across the face. The source of my nightmares stands before me, bringing memories I smothered with new ones back from repose.

"W-what's wrong?" I repeat incredulously, my voice but a whisper in the cold air that elicits goosebumps along the back of my arms, "What's wrong is that the very ghost haunting me at night is standing right in front of me, less than two metres away with a smile on his face as if he's meant to be here. W-why are you even here? You're meant to be gone. You were gone."