Mine

2.

Flashback - Age 8

The gravel crunched beneath your sparkly flats as you skipped down the deserted road. The wind caused your stiff blue dress to balloon like a parachute, but you were too busy humming a pretty tune to notice. A thin strap lined your chest and a small pouch containing a few coins jingled inside.

It was sunny, but the road was hedged with tall trees with thick trunks and dark leaves, shielding your young skin from the harsh summer rays. Still, heat emanated from above where the birds danced and chirped.

You heard a bell ding from behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder hesitantly. It was Light on his shiny red bike, racing up the road toward you. From your spot, you could see the determined look on his face; his tongue out and to the side, his brows furrowed, his chestnut hair sweaty and slick along his forehead. You almost laughed once he skidded you a stop only a metre or so away from you.

"Need a ride?" His voice was clipped, and you looked around to make sure he was talking to you. 

"Yes you, you idiot," he muttered, and you felt your bottom lip pout. You turned on your heel and continued to skip toward your destination.

"Wait!"

You stopped again and turned around, your own brows furrowed. Your sparkly ballet flat tapped impatiently on the dark blue.

"I didn't mean to call you an idiot. Just hop on my bike, I can go really fast. It's much quicker than skipping," he said, his eyes droopy at the sides. You tapped your finger against your chin as you looked his bike over, before giving in and walking to stand on the back wheel.

He grinned at you over his shoulder, and you rolled your eyes as you secured your purse and held onto him.

It was a struggle at first, you were certain your skipping would move faster than this. But eventually, his laboured breaths evened and you both were flying down the hill toward the town. A loud squeal left your lips as the wind picked up even more and blew your dress backward fully. Light laughed as he pedalled faster.

~

You woke up at a slightly later time than usual, which was actually late considering you barely woke up earlier on a good day. Once you saw the time through squinted eyes, the tiredness dissipated and you launched out of bed for your bathroom. Hurriedly, you showered, brushed your hair and teeth, then threw on a basic outfit comprised of jeans and a t-shirt. Before leaving your room, you stepped into some old runners and packed your bag.

"You're in a hurry this morning," Light's voice called out from his seat on the couch, hunched over a bowl of cereal. Of course, he was awake. Regardless of how much sleep he got, he was always up early.

"Good morning," you grumbled as you rushed into the kitchen and headed straight for the toaster. You quickly push down a piece of toast, and barely give it enough time to cook before slathering butter on one side, and shoving it into your mouth.

"How are you getting to class?" Light asked, and it was then you saw he was watching tv too. Some weather broadcast was on, and you double-checked that your umbrella was secure in your bag.

"L's picking me up," you answered, trying quickly to chow down your mouthful of bland toast as you texted the man himself back. L was going to be there any second; he also had a late morning.

When Light didn't reply, you looked up from your phone, taken aback when you saw he had stopped eating his food, and glared down at his bowl.

"What's wrong?" You squeaked, shocked at his expression. Why was he so mad?