𖥻 ❙ ━ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗢𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗧𝗬.
❝ WHERE IS MARGO ROTH BINGHAM? ❞
in which a girl goes missing, which leaves the
town to instantly open an investigation only to
be found by her former peers after they got
stuck in the same replica...
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𝘁𝘄𝗼 : nOt yoU ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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WALKING OUT THE MARKET, we make our way back to his car. Placing the bags in the front.
I take Clarke's arm, stopping him from taking a seat. "First." I start, pointing at the large building across the street.
Immediately making him shake his head, "No, we can't get arrested." he denies, knowing an arrest means he can kiss Duke goodbye.
Smiling softly I take his hand in mine. Intertwining our fingers together, I squeeze his hand.
Pulling him with me across the street, "Okay, what is this about?" he questiones.
"Well, on the end of a grand adventure. One must pause and reflect on ones achievement." I say.
Letting go of his hand and holding them out to the building, "But it's the beginning." he reminds me.
"Our achievements are miles away, and this view is a sight to be seen." I wave off, "It shows all of Ham. West, North and East." I continue.
Holding on to the boy's varsity jacket for a second. Literally shaking some sense into him. Before walking backwards, "Breaking and entering is a felony." he starts.
Tilting my head, I hum amused as his continuous doubt. Something I'm sure he will do the entire night.
"We are not breaking and entering." I deny, "We are just entering." I emphasise, nudging my head at the big thirty story building.
"Very clever." the boys hums, "But I can't get arrested tonight, or any night for that matter." Clark sighs.
"And you won't." I reassure, "This building is huge. There got to be a guard or something." he continues to worry.
"Well, of course there is." I nod. Making him send me me a 'I told you so' look, "His name is Gus." I add.
Spinning on my heels, I make my way to the entrance, "You know the guards name..." Clark trails off out loud.
Before a heavy set of footsteps starts, a sign of him following.
The small conversation with, Gus, the earlier mentioned guard was not something to be remembered.
What was — was the look on the young boy's face. A look that isn't able to be traced back to one exact emotion, as it was a mix of many.
Glancing over our suburban towns. The one we live in, the ones we think are different.
How they all look the same from far, how almost all the lights are out. The churches, lanterns, and various big buildings the only things illuminating light.
"Everything is uglier up close." I think out loud, "Not you." he denies.
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. Knowing all the things I do, all the words I've said.
If those words were to ever appear on my skin, if he knew everything. He wouldn't still thinks that.
"Want to dance?" the young Beecher questiones, holding his hand out.
"What?" I ask confused. Shifting my gaze away from the calm scenery, "Want to dance?" Clark repeats.
"There is no music." I chuckle, "Then we will make our own." he offers.
Placing my hand in his, he pulls me closer. Humming softly, we sway to the silence.
The feelings that spark from the smallest touch of his skin on mine. It almost makes me wish, we could stay in this moment forever.
