Recapturing Death [On Hold]

12

Izalia groaned and felt her body shift. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and she took in her surroundings. 

A sea of moving legs. Tires screeching beyond the moving legs. Tall buildings behind the screeching tires. 

Where was she? 

Scrunching her face, Izalia looked down at herself only to realise she was slumped against some building on the sidewalk in the middle of the city. Mouth wide, her gaze shifted upwards at the people passing by. A few looked briefly at her then carried on. It's one of the only things she hated about the city. The people were heartless and uncaring; they simply walked by homeless people, only caring about where they were going and what they wanted to do. 

With a sigh, she lifted herself off the ground, grimacing as she felt the sudden aching in her back and butt. She took a second to try and stretch out her back, arching it and swaying from side to side. It did little to help, but it didn't feel as bad afterwards. 

Izalia rolled her shoulders then merged into the crowd, walking close behind a suited man, briefcase in hand. Typical city life. The buildings were decorated with flashing, neon signs and billboards and some had large screens that played through a news channel—though, multiple played at once on different screens so it always felt overwhelming. Then there were the people. The multicultural, diverse people who always looked the same. Suits and briefcases and dresses and heels. 

She pushed her way to the outskirts of the crowd then turned down a different street that led home. She knew her parents would be waiting for her at home, confused and curious. Maybe she wouldn't go home yet. 

Izalia stopped in the middle of the street and sighed. The few people behind her scoffed and pushed passed her, giving her an angry look as they did so. 

She slowly started walking again, kicking at a random pebble on the street, not caring about the other people around her. They obviously seemed like they knew where they were going which was quite the opposite of what she was feeling. She actually didn't know how she was feeling at all. 

Suddenly, someone tapped her shoulder, causing her to jump and her heart to race. Turning around, ready to see just about anyone, she came face to face with the last person she thought she'd see. 

Joey.

He was frowning at her, his arm still outstretched. 

"Joey?" Izalia said quietly, wondering what he was doing here after what had happened between them. A little piece of her was still mad at him, but she knew she had no right to be. He was only helping her, right? She still didn't remember acting "weird", but he must've had good reason to do and say what he did. 

"Look, Iz, I'm sorry about what happened. I shouldn't have phrased it that way. You were confused and tired and I should've been more understanding. I'm sorry, Iz." He looked down at the ground, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. 

Izalia looked at him quietly, her arms hanging limply at her side. What was she supposed to say to that? 

Licking her lips, she slowly took a step forward and let out a soft sigh. Without warning, she pulled him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer. She closed her eyes and melted into his arms. 

Izalia knew her true feelings for Joey. And knowing she could've ruined their friendship forever tore her apart. For years, her heart belonged only to him, but she was always too scared to tell him. What if he didn't like her back? What if he had a girlfriend but she didn't know about them because he didn't want to hurt her? But... what if he liked her just as much as she liked him? 

Her heart fluttered in her chest and a familiar feeling churned in her stomach. 

Reluctantly, she pulled back from the hug. "I'm sorry, Joey. It was my fault. You shouldn't be the one to apologise. I overreacted. You were just trying to help."

He smiled at her knowingly. Izalia felt her cheeks burning as she shook her head, trying to play it off. The things this boy could make her feel. It was a miracle she hadn't thrown herself at him yet. But she just got him back and didn't want to risk anything that would jeopardise their relationship again. She supposed being friends would have to do. 

"Are you okay, though? I've been worrying about you for days now," Joey whispered, taking her face in his hands.

"Yeah," she breathed, forcing herself to keep her eyes connected with his. 

For the briefest of seconds, she saw his eyes flit down to her lips. 

Her heart thrummed in her chest, beating and rapping against her rib cage. The way he looked at her made her feel heavy and lightheaded all at once; it was like she couldn't take a deep enough breath. She could feel her deep want for him—that feeling of physically needing something. 

Joey took a step back and ran a hand through his black hair, blowing out a sigh. "Good."

Swallowing, Izalia tried to rein in her feelings then looked at him. "I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" He gave her a curious look and waited.

"Can we go somewhere, though?"

"Sure." Joey glanced around then pointed down the road at a small cafe that was mostly hidden by the grandiose fronts of businesses or skyscrapers. 

Nodding, Izalia smiled then started towards it, Joey coming up to stride next to her. 

They walked silently towards the little cafe, the only sound being that of their footsteps on the dark pavement. It was a cooler day, but Izalia could see hints of Spring pushing through the layers of snow. There was a slight wind that pushed against her but it felt nice, almost soothing. 

Once they got to the doors of the cafe, Joey rushed ahead to open the doors for her, giving her a cheesy smile as he did so. Izalia rolled her eyes at him but smiled, nevertheless. 

The cafe was small but cosy. The main island stood near the back and was accompanied by a row of bar stools that paralleled a row of television screens hung up on the wall behind. There was a small fireplace to the right that held some burning chunks of wood making it somewhat hazy in the cafe. The wooden walls reminded her of a country-styled cottage and even more so with the wooden ceiling and floor. 

Izalia took a seat next to one of the front windows where she could see a perfect view of the city. She was always amazed at how the beauty on the outside hid the horrors on the inside. Of course, she loved the city, even adored it sometimes. But other times, she wished she lived somewhere in the country where crime was less prevalent and everyone was living in a home. 

Joey sat across from her, resting his folded hands on the table. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could, a waiter came up, opened his writing pad, then looked at them expectantly. 

"Oh, um, I'll just have a water, please," Izalia said, smiling at the waiter.

Joey nodded. "Same for me."

Not even bothering to scratch the orders on his notepad, the water turned on his heel and walked to the back. 

Joey turned to look at her. Izalia's stomach churned as she thought about what she was going to say. Should she just blurt it out? Or beat around the bush? 

"I'm dead."

Blurt it out it is. 

—

Yay, another chapter after a long, long, long time! 

Sorry, but here it is!! Izalia definitely doesn't beat around the bush. Say it how it is, I guess lol.

As always, I love and appreciate any comments!

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Cya next chapter? Okay, cya next chapter! 

Thanks for reading :D 

xx