my always addiction ☞︎𝕛𝕛 𝕞𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕒𝕟𝕜☜︎

𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀

YALLLLLLL THE CAST WAS POSTING ABOUT SEASON TWOOOOOOO IM SO EXCITED

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jj

No. Of course not. In what world would I let Zia go into a fucking axe murderers house alone.

I guess she would've been with Sarah..

But still no.

I look up and across the patch of dirt that we're sitting on, and see Zia sitting Indian style, fiddling with her nails.

She's been doing that a lot lately.

At least when I'm around.

"What's taking those two so long." Pope says, slightly turning in his seat to better see the entrance of the house.

"Crain probably caught 'em." I say.

"Oh my, God. Can you just- Chill with the murderer jokes, okay?" Zia rolls her eyes and slouches her shoulders in a nervous way, as if speaking to me scares her or something.

It should. She lied to me for three fucking years. I have a right to be mad. And anyone who says otherwise is out of their damn mind.

But I hate being mad at her. I hate it when I catch her looking at me with apologetic eyes. I hate whenever I look at her I catch myself glancing at her lips. I hate the memories I have of kissing her lips. Her perfect lips.

I hate everything about her. Whenever I look somewhere now, it reminds me of her. Whenever I see the color red, I think of her in that fucking dress at Midsummers. Whenever I make eye contact with anyone, I think of how much she hates eye contact.

I hate making her feel scared around me. She shouldn't have to feel scared around anyone. She escaped that, three years ago. I can't be the one to bring back that feeling.

She's apologized. I just don't know why I can't accept it.

I want to, I really do. 

I just- can't.

I don't know why.

Maybe it's because I fell in love with Zia. The Zia from Baton Rouge. The Zia who lived with her aunt because her parents were dead. The Zia who didn't have siblings. The Zia who didn't keep secrets.

But she's still the same girl, right? Just with a different story.

Yanking me out of my thoughts, the motion lights on the porch shut off.

"They did it. Go time." John B whispers.

He holds up three fingers, beginning to count down.

"Three, two.." I ignore his count down and stand up, spinning around and walking down the path.

"J- just go. Go." I hear John B whisper.

We all successfully make it to the basement, and begin to pull the rope and whatever else out of my back pack.

"Holy crap, you know what this is? It just hit me." I say, looking up from the bundle of rope in my hands.

Everyone looks at me expectantly.

"C. H. U. D. This is full C. H. U. D." I smile.

"What is he talking about?" John B asks, and Pope shrugs.

"Is that the movie you made me watch at like, three AM?" Zia looks up from the well.

I nod.

One night, about a three years ago, Zia was staying the night at my place. I found out she had never seen the movie, since she didn't like horror films. Then I made her watch it with the promise I'd protect her. Of course, she said I was full of shit, but watched it anyway. She claimed that it was one of the dumbest movies she'd ever seen.