The Outsiders

The Outsiders: Chapter Fourteen

Soum Menjivar

My eyes widened in horror as a crowd surrounded the small house.

            Sprinting towards the small house, I all but dropped my towel as I searched for Khristopher. Fear sweltered in my stomach, burning into horror as I searched the crowd of tall wolves. Frantic and panicked, I shoved past the people as mixed scents muddled Khristopher's. My breath grew rough when I was met with his faint perfume. Making it to the door, I panic-strickenly searched for his gaze.

             With his head hung low and his face in his knees, he was crouched by the small bed. Riddled with tears and sobs, he shook and whimpered. Transfixed by the sight, I surveyed the room for answers as Khristopher lost himself in his tears. A half-drunk cup of tea with a teapot beside it sat on the small wooden desk. Sniffing the air, Toasheh's distinct scent lingered in the air. Furrowing my eyebrows, my eyes fell over the rest of his desk. Wide-open, a book he'd read in front of me laid with a quill beside it.

             Underlined in black ink along with his annotations, three phrases stood out: Reaper, Soul Tracker, Dark Magic.

"Death is certain, yet how would one die when they lie between immortality and mortality," was written along the margin in his neat cursive.

            Gulping, I turned to his shaking body. Brushing away the concern for his annotations, I snapped out of my trance. Rushing towards him, I cradle him in my arms. Searching for any wounds, I could only feel his palpitating heartbeat. With stifled cries, he only pressed himself closer to me. His nose brushed my neck as he sniffled, whimpering Toasheh's name.

            Pulling his hair away from his face, I was caught in his glossy eyes. Distraught and dissonant, he only stared at me as he sobbed. A look so striking, so indistinguishable, I caressed his cheek as my mind captured every aspect of his brokenness. Tears trembled down his cheeks, marking their path on his porcelain skin. Eyes, clouded with scorn, could only stare into the dim air. Lips trembled with affliction, murmuring his friend's name, over and over again.

            "K-khristopher? What happened? What's wrong?"

            Shaking his head, he hid his face in my shoulder, setting my damp skin. Gripping my back with such yearning and desperation, I could hardly breathe in his arms. Though I was still conspicuous, the air seemed to lighten with our embrace. Warm and tight, his embrace and old me more than enough. Trembling in my arms with his face hidden from me, he was ashamed.

            The only question that I had was if Khristopher hurt Toasheh or vice-versa. Did Khristopher hurt himself? I had trained with the defenders to stop him from getting hurt. The moment I left his side, he was left hurt and crying. Shaken with worry, I only held him, dear, to my chest. Left in the dark, I left the questioning and intervention aside and focused on Khristopher.

"W-we need to go s-see her—"

            Dragging his half-limp body from the floor, he wiped his tears. As I took a hold of his waist, he only stared at the doorframe with quivering lips. Tightening his grip against me, he tried to walk before his legs gave out from underneath him, asleep with the pressure he'd put on his nerves as he crouched.

            His breathing increased as he stared at his legs, confused and bewildered at their inaction. With concern surging down my veins, I lifted him towards the bed. Searching for any wounds, I ran my fingers down his legs. Stiffening at my touch, he only relaxed when I removed my hands from his legs. Still staring, he poked his pallid limb before jumping.