Damnation Of Devotion ✔

18: Screaming Into The Night

*Warning: sexual content*

{ KI }

Toothbrush, hair comb, nail clipper in the bag—

"Baby, come on! We're going to be late!"

I head out of the bathroom and glance at Aht, who's leaning against the door jamb with an amused smirk. Is my purse in the drawer? Aha! Dash around to check if everything is clear. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Pfft. That's what you screamed last nigh—"

I shut him up with a passionate kiss, breathing in his breathless moan... Mmh the way he did me last night.

"Don't remind me or we never leave this room. You asked me not to be late, remember?"

My fire, who is still quite dazed, murmurs, "That isn't such a bad thing, sweetheart."

"It'll be when those KKK napkins rally up in front of this building," I sigh.

Slumping forward, he kisses my brow. "Uugh. Forgot." Then, his stature goes right back up. A guarded one. He opens the window and his head pops out, silky hair dancing in the wind. He's looking for any clearance to sneak out safely. "The coast is clear. We better hurry."

Climbing down the knotted sheets first, he stays nimble and silent. I don't know how he does it with his large frame but I'm trying my best to follow his moves. Emphasis on trying. My saint of a lover guides me down with patience.

It's been three years or so since we left the town.

It has been two weeks since we last received a postcard from Theo and Angeline, and they told us how their family is doing. For three years, we've sent postcards every month without fail and stayed for a week in one place, just to wait for theirs.

We haven't met again since they left for Australia. Theodore wanted to take care of us financially, worrying about us despite he isn't a rich man... But we reassured him that we are capable of being independent, and that is why we will never tell him about our current predicament.

What's the predicament when the war is already over?

Not.

The world isn't in an official war, but goddamn wars between races, maniacal control over countries that are 'uncivilized' by their standards, and all the rising crises. With our appearance, it's impossible for us to get jobs and get out of America.

So, we wander from place to place. Dallas, Boston, Wyoming, and... I forgot other names. Money? Back to stealing. Food? Stealing. Places to sleep? A shack, a neglected cabin, a room in some rich man's manor to which we are sneaking away right now—risky but the money we stole is worth it—and a whole lot more.

Vagabonds are who we are.

"Hey, that's not the bag you're grabbing!" I almost laugh out loud when his hands paw my bottom.

He beams without an ounce of shame. "Oh, I know."

Aht is familiar with this kind of life. I know I'm jaded by time, even more judgemental than before, though it means I'm learning a lot and I love to learn. If we have to wait decades to feel safe and settle down, we'll take that chance.

We run far with bags on our backs. Most books and vinyl records were given away to people who needed a cheer up, but there is no way we'd give up the gramophone.

Aht had to remove its screen because it cracked when we were in New York. He was devastated for weeks... and bounced back, saying it's a part of nature. Maybe because he was a volcano spirit and I was just a meadow spirit, but the way he worded them seems it is a universal nature instead. To this day, I haven't grasped the meaning behind his words.