Blink (Billy Hargrove x OC)

#28 Rules Were Always Made...

I dress in some of the nicer clothing I have, I wear a tank top and pants, and put on a cloak. I don't know exactly where I'll be blinking to, so layering is the key. To finish things off I tie a bandana on the loop of my jeans. I reach instinctively to my chest, grasping at the necklace that isn't present, and sadly I put my hand down.

I have my camera bag with me already, so I don't have to blink to my storage room. Thank goodness, I need to save my energy.

I root around in my photo albums for some pictures of Billy and me for good measure, and I settle on three.

The first is from our time at High School in California. It's a picture of Billy, he's sitting in the bleachers, body turned towards the front, arms draped over his knees. His face is turned towards the camera, an air of seriousness about him. But, if you look closer a barely perceptible smile has made its home on his lips, and his eyes are slightly crinkled, not because of the sun, like one would originally think. It's one of my favorite pictures, there's something so hard and soft about it at the same time. It's wholly and undeniably Billy.

The second picture is of us at a party, Billy and I are in leather jackets, and our coordinated outfits are accented with a red color scheme. We're leaning up against a wall, I have one of my boots pressed up against it. Our bodies are close to one another, and our hands, right in the center of the picture, are gently and casually entwined. Billy has a shit eating grin on his face: his reaction to my reaction to the inappropriate joke he just made. His piercing eyes bore through your soul, as he's looking right at the camera. I, on the other hand am not looking at the camera, my mouth is in a smiley, agape, gasp. My whole head is pointed at Billy: a nice side profile view of me. I remember screeching "retake it, retake it!" after I heard and saw the bright flash of the camera. There's a nicer version of this picture where we're both looking at the camera, but I like this version better. His smile is bigger than it is in any other picture.

The third picture is of both me and Billy again, it's a close shot. One of Billy's arms is holding the camera up, the other is wrapped around my chest. I'm leaning back against him, and one of my hands is sneaking behind the back of his head to gently grab at his hair, while the other rests on the arm he's holding me with. I'm giving the camera my best attempt at a smoldering glare, trying to look cool like he does so effortlessly in pictures. He, on the other hand, is making this ridiculous face. His lips are pursed together and pushed out, his big blue eyes are wide and pouty. Billy would say I'd make that face a lot. I still deny it to this day.

Those are the three pictures I choose, hopefully they will be enough.

As I'm getting ready I wonder.

Is it possible to blink near somewhere?

I know that when I blink to a person I never blink right on top of them, I always blink near them but what if I end up in a crowded location, or in front of a family or something?

Maybe if I slow time during the blink instead of after, so I can control where I go...

I shiver at the thought. 

No matter how dire the situation, I never slow time and open my eyes during a blink. Only very carefully before and after. It's an easy mistake to make, I did once when I was younger when Tom wanted to know what exactly was happening while I blinking. He thought that during my blink, I shot myself from point A to point B. He hypothesized that if I gained control of the lightning fast process, that I could blink in multiple directions before being seen. He theorized that I could then go anywhere in the world without having previously seen it, as long as I knew the general direction of it.

 Experiment time! Tom's logic in my mind, I brought my eyelids down as I held onto a time slow with all my might, and opened my eyes.

What I saw made me scream, and in my panic I let go of the time slow. The distance was small, just across the room. But when I let go of the time slow, I wasn't in the room. Well, I kind of was. I was halfway across, right in between the points I wanted to go. I was in a place that looked like the room. I was in a place that had all the furniture of the room. But it was definitely not the room. The new room was black, laced with shadows and cobwebs and sticky, fleshy goo. There were white flakes in the air that made me cough, and a sinister feeling took over me. I screamed, but nothing happened.