Literally the most mundane task, and I’m sitting here, fighting to remember my deep breathing exercises.
23
Indie
Higher - Creed
Doorsslammingjoltmeawake, “Higher” by Creed softly playing through the car.
I rub my eyes with my knuckles, and my hands drop like weights into my lap, not able to remember a time where I’d gone out so quickly.
When my eyes finally adjust from the tiredness, I look at my phone to see it’s 2am.
Jesus, it’s been almost six hours since we left; we’re either on the opposite side of Kingstone or we’re in a new state.
My fingers play with the metal of the zipper, sliding it up and down absentmindedly as I yawn. I tug it right up to the close, tucking my chin inside the material.
I know I rested like that because of Saint, and it’s just another knock to the seal on my feelings.
I don’t know how much more they can take before I can no longer contain them.
My door opens, and I glance past my shoulder to catch eyes with Saint.
“Come on.” The corners of his lips are fighting the tilts, and I likely bear the residue of someone who’s woken from a deep sleep.
Or better yet, dragged through a hedge backwards when I clock drool on my chin in the side mirrors, and the strands of hair sticking up from my head.
Something passes between us; both of our gazes ignite against each other the longer we keep it there, colliding with years of unspoken thoughts passing through them.
My throat constricts just looking at him, but then he steps back, severing the connection to look over his shoulder and speak to someone.
It’s a woman. She’s a little taller than me, blonde hair scraped back in a tight bun. What eradicates the leftover tiredness from my eyes as they widen is how toned her arms are.
Jesus Christ, she looks like she could bench me and not break a sweat.
Suddenly, I have arm envy.
I unleash my seatbelt and warily slip out the car. We seem to be in a garage of some kind, but that’s putting it lightly. It’s more like a damn warehouse.
Huge rows of lights beam down on us from the metal ceiling, stretching down into what feels like the great beyond. Entire rows of vehicles similar to Saint’s are all lined up, along with a pocket of more civilised ones.
“Are you going to tell me where we are?” I ask, turning to catch him already watching me.
The door clicks softly behind me, his hand resting on the roof as he follows my earlier line of sight.
“This is where we keep the vehicles.”
My eyes roll, and the threat of calling out captain fucking obvious’s observation skills drips from my tongue, along with asking why he’s tiptoeing around the subject.
Regina walks up to me, and Saint pushes off the car to head towards Rex.
“Why do I feel like we’re in some undercover FBI shit?” she whispers, linking her arm with mine as we follow behind the guys, heading through the towering bay doors, echoes of conversations sounding around us as bodies litter the garage.
“Something tells me whatever this is isn’t as legal as that.”
We stick close to each other’s side as we walk into the night. The boundary is pitch black, though we’re still within the woodlands. Soaring trees wrap around the walled edges, the swaying silhouettes stroking against the star-littered sky.
I’d stop and admire if my mind wasn’t otherwise preoccupied with the tug my heart has to keep moving.
