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chapter two — ❝ the way you touch me's like the curse that can't be broken ❞
[ ∞ · ♡ ]
Sometimes in the afternoon, El liked to heave in a large breath and hold it there as she stopped breathing for a moment. Her back would be pressed against the soft grass of her backyard, her lungs growing tight as she held in that breath for as long as she could, raking in each loose thought, as many as she could in those limited seconds of being breathless as she shut her eyes softly.
His freckled cheeks were the stars that she watched above with him in the middle of the night. . .
His lopsided smile was as warm as the rays of the morning sun that peeked in through her bedroom curtains. . .
His unruly, dark hair matched the hour of midnight in the moonlight when she would wake up briefly and admire the sight of him laying beside her. . .
And then, she would release that breath, and she hoped every thought she held with it would be dispersed along with the air.
It never really worked.
Because, then moments later, she would be back to discovering every bit of her best friend in the memories she held that flashed before her own eyes. The whole reason she went out there was to make herself stop thinking of him, but every single time, he was the only thought that recurred. She wasn't dumb, and she knew it always happened this way. So, maybe that was why she kept going out there like that. An excuse to let her mind wander on nothing but Mike for those short few seconds.
"El! I'm home early!"
She huffed a breath at the sound of her dad's voice booming loudly from inside the house. Whenever he was home early, there was a reason. Coming home early was usually code for we need to have a talk. Probably wanting to lecture her on the new household rules now that Joyce and Will would be living there. Another lecture.
Before another minute could pass and he would call out to her again, she pushed herself off the ground, dusting off the back of her pale blue pants before jogging over to the back door that led straight to the kitchen inside. It didn't take long after heading inside that she stopped shortly at the sight of her dad, still in his full sheriff uniform, sitting in a chair pulled aside by the kitchen table, one hand behind his back as the other fiddled with the unlit cigarette in his hold.
El tilted her head quizzically, slowly shutting the door behind her. "Yes, Dad?"
"Hm?" he replied, a bit distracted, almost as if he were deep in thought.
