“I don’t care.” Keeping her hand firmly in place. Well, this was going to be interesting, the hazy drunk leading the blind. Nothing could go wrong.
She tried, bless her, guiding my every movement, that was until we smacked into the doorframe of the bedroom. “Ow! You’re the worst co-pilot ever.” My smile never left my face as my shins hit the softness of the bed, lowering her down until I knew she was safe to let go of. My eyes remained clamped shut as I fumbled the bed, feeling for a nearby blanket, pulling it over her. Only then did I open them, glancing at her, seeing the jeans still holding her ankles together. My fingers slipped under the hem of her ankle and pulled, freeing her legs. “Happy now?”
“Maybe.”
I gave a soft smile as I turned, leaving her in the bedroom, her slight frame hugged by the blanket now cascading over her. She was going to regret everything in the morning, a part of me chuckling to myself, knowing how she would react—burying all knowledge of her drunken state and playing ignorant to her incident in the bathroom. Even still, she couldn’t take them from me, so more ammo, I guess.
Darkness had fallen, and I could feel the strain behind my eyes, aching for sleep. I killed the music before pulling my shirt off over my head as I headed back towards the bedroom. She was already drifting, but the stupid creak of the door awoke her to my presence. The blanket quickly covered her face as she gave out a frustrated groan; my brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” Her muffled reply shot back quicker than I expected.
“Nothing.” Then silence.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes as I turned off the light, my weight shifting her body slightly as I lay down. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to relax deeper into the mattress.
Her voice split into the stillness, “…Screech?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I did lose it?”
I hesitated, searching to find the right answer.
“I can’t let that happen.”
“…Why?” She asked softly.
I lolled my head towards her, her soft curves catching the dim streetlight outside. A snicker sounded from me, “Because it’s my death if I do, apparently.”
I saw the glint in her orbs as she turned to face me, remaining quiet. The cogs turning as she searched for the words.
“You might lose it too if you knew what I knew,” The words stumped me as she continued. “Everything we know is wrong.”
Did she honestly think she was losing herself to her own mind? I mean, I harbour a darker voice who turns up from time to time, but she was talking in a way like she already knew it was going to happen.
What do you say to that? It was probably the booze talking.
I shifted, pulling myself up onto my elbows. “What’s wrong, Misfit?”
Another pause as she turned from me, “Nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just promise me you won’t let me lose it.”
Letting out a deep breath, sensing her mood shift in her tone.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to make sure I drag you back from the brink,” I said, lying back down beside her.
“Even if I’m kicking and screaming?”
I gave a dry laugh, “Even kicking and screaming.”
“You promise?”
“Promise.”
CHAPTER 24
The weeks blurred into one strange fever dream, half chaos and half comfort. Most nights, we were nothing but loudmouths and bad ideas stitched together with quiet moments in between.
She made me laugh like nobody else. Proper belly laugh, the kind that made my ribs ache. And she looked weirdly comfortable for someone who used to threaten to slit my throat for breathing near her.
We planted ourselves outside a scuzzy little bar on the edge of town, threw on our best ‘we’re definitely supposed to be here’ expressions, and started charging a cover fee.
