Gory Glory // l.t au

21 - Leila

Leila

Wow. Louis looked good with stubble. Not just good as in okay-good, but good as in good-good. Really, really good.

I scoffed at myself in disbelief. What the fuck, Leila? Why are you watching this boy sleeping, admiring the messy facial hair splattered across the lower half of his face? The way it blended so attractively with his glowing, bronze skin. The way it surrounded his slim, parted lips and–

I should probably be focusing on saving humanity, not Louis' lips.

With that thought circulating my mind, I loaded up a few guns with ammunition and strapped my belt of grenades across my torso. I realized then, that the blood from my wound had seeped through its bandage, and so decided reluctantly to change it. I knew deep-down that I had been prolonging the inevitable fact that I was going to have to look at it sooner or later.

I untucked the end of the material and gradually unwrapped it until my wound was displayed. A lump formed in my throat which felt like I had swallowed a stone when the reality of my fate truly hit me. The wound had spread considerably, crawling up my arm and causing the blue-green veins to grow unnaturally prominent. My skin was fading to an almost grey hue and lumps resembling warts were surfacing around the bite. I stared at it with such a burning intensity that I was almost surprised when flames didn't ignite from the flesh, licking the wound away with its blackening carnage.

I winced at the sight of it, thankful for the new strip of bandage now hiding it from not only me, but the boy still asleep behind me. I have no idea how he would take it if he saw what was truly becoming of me. 

When images of Louis sobbing over my corpse began to stem into my mind, I took that as my cue to approach the river and splash cold water onto my face. Crouching onto my knees, I gazed downwards into its reflection. I observed my greying skin and the darkness shadowing underneath my eyes. I was really beginning to look like one of them.

I cupped the water into my hands and gently splashed it over my face, hoping it would do something – anything – to help lighten my mood. To take my mind elsewhere or clean away my tainted fate.

It did not.

I showered my face in the contaminated water once more. Wiping my eyes free of the liquid, I jumped in surprise when I saw a boy standing behind me in the reflection. Instinctively, I ripped a knife from my boot and spun around with it pointed to his throat.

“Christ, Leila! It's just me!” Louis exclaimed, arms held up defensively, “I won't hurt you”.

I exhaled lowly, lowering the weapon. “You know not to sneak up on me, Stripes. Be grateful there's not a blade in your windpipe right about now”.

“I know, I'm sorry, I–” he paused when he glanced up to really survey my face. “Oh my God. Leila, what happened?”

“It's called the process of turning into a Breather. We really don't have enough time for you to still be in denial about all of this, Stripes”.

“I'm not in denial,” he protested weakly, “I just feel like there's a way we can overcome this”.

I rolled my eyes at him, motioning with my hand towards our bags of supplies. “Go get ready. We've gotta start getting to the lab”.

He nodded obediently, scurrying away to leave me alone.

I proceeded to rip a hair band from my wrist and tie the dishevelled mass of hair up into a pony tail. I gathered it into my hands, but stared at my open palm whilst retracting it. A chunk of hair was tangled between my fingers.

“What the fuck?” I muttered to myself under my breath, tugging gently on another tendril of hair located near my bangs. It spilled out from my scalp, just as easily as if I had pulled a piece of cotton wool apart. I continued to tentatively yank ribbons of hair from my scalp, until I forced myself to stop and admit to myself that my body was decomposing. I was literally a dead girl walking.

I wrapped a black bandanna around my hairline to conceal the bald patches from Louis as well as I could manage. Just a few more days and this will all be over.

“Leila!” Louis called, “My belt's caught”.

Eyes rolling, I sighed in frustration. His little, nimble fingers were fumbling aimlessly with the strap of the grenade belt. I stood before him and secured it with a single, effortless click, eyes fixed upon his in an almost-mocking manner. He smiled sheepishly, verdigris gaze dropping to my lips momentarily before returning to my glacial glare. His tongue darted out to swipe at his smooth cupids bow. I noticed his Adam's apple bob up and down from behind his stubbled throat as he swallowed anxiously.

“Am I making you nervous, Stripes?” I taunted, voice low. Eyelids dropped, I studied his face intently, fingers curling around the belt slashed across his torso. He gasped lightly when I tugged, pulling him towards me. With every harsh breath exhaled, my breasts would press to his chest, breaking apart when he inhaled sharply. I could feel his hands trembling as they layered themselves over the back of mine and the pad of his thumb grazed lightly up and down my index knuckle.

My face leaned closer to his, causing his lids to instinctively flutter shut. My mouth pressed to the shell of his ear, before I whispered slowly and breathlessly. “Get your ass in the Jeep”.

Broken from his trance, his eyes sprung open at my words. The intimate atmosphere shattered like a dropped champagne glass as I patted his chest with the inside of my hand in a friend-like manner.

The jeep growled to life, and moments later we were tearing down the dirt path, angry tyre marks left in their wake.

Louis drummed on his knee with his fingers in the most obnoxious way possible, humming cheerfully to himself.

Trying to fight off the smile tugging at my mouth, I side-eyed him neutrally. “You’re looking pretty happy considering it’s, you know, the end of the world and all”.

His laughter rung out like a wind chime and his head fell back against the fraying head rest behind him. “I’m just happy because we have a plan. It’s all gonna work out”.

No it’s not! This isn’t a fucking romance novel or Disney film! This is real life and real life is shit.

Tongue clamped between my teeth, I swallowed my words when I realized that hope was all he had and who the hell was I to take that away from him? Ignorance, delusion and denial were better than the crippling disappointment he was bound to experience if he opened his eyes for just a moment. It was better for him to be unknowingly trapped in the dark than to be permanently scarred from the blinding light.

“Yeah it is, Stripes. We’re gonna be alright”.

“I can’t wait until this is all over! We can go back to the river and relax, just us two. We won’t have to worry about Breathers all the time! It will be so great, Leila. The world will be cured, I know it–” Louis abruptly cut himself off, yelping in surprise. Only then did my vision focus to discover us swerving to the right, drifting off the road. Swearing under my breath, I sharply turned the wheel to guide us back on track.

“Leila? Are you feeling okay? You don’t look so good,” Louis questioned concernedly.

“You sure know how to make a gal feel pretty, Stripes,” I retorted sarcastically, ignoring the rotting nail on my right ring finger that was beginning to peel off.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that! You always look good – great even! – you just don’t look very well, but you, I–” he stammered, before sighing loudly and lowering his gaze to his lap. “You look beautiful”.

I smiled wistfully, eyeing him casually in my peripheral vision. Sighing a second time, he rested the side of his face against the door frame. His head was inclined downwards in such a way that it caused his sharp jawline to become all the more prominent. The tiny, tiny smile gracing my lips only grew.

And then everything went black.