"Knock, knock?" Reed breathed next to her ear. It's been around three hours, she's come accustomed to it by now.
Rolling her light green eyes. "Who's there?"
"Who would you like it to be?" It was so soft in her ear, the sweet smell of his cologne ta...
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┌────── ❀ ──────┐ REED CHERIE └────── ❀ ──────┘
THE UBER stopped at their destination. Reed said a quick thank you, while Birdie stared out the window trying to see where they were, leaning forward in her stop in the back seat, seatbelt still on.
They got out of the car, Reed closed the door and they both started walking toward the building. In front of them, the beaming light of the Uber travelled from their right to their left; the dirt under the wheels crunched loudly behind them. The closer he got the more the airs on his body started to stand at attention.
In the dim light of the moon, he could just make out the graffiti art on the walls of the old building. The windows were broken, the door left open—or it was missing, debris scattered the dry grassy yard with things such as broken slabs of wood, possibly half eaten by termites by now; rusted pieces of metal fence parts; drywall. He was thankful he was still wearing some sort of foot protection.
Stopping, he turned around noticing Birdie was still standing where they had gotten out of the Uber, arms wrapped around her body, tense and unsure, pout evident on her lips. "You're not taking me here to kill me, are you?"
He smirked, tilting his head to the side, considering it, before shaking his head. "No, you're too special to be killed."
Her shoulders sunk seconds after she had taken a deep breath before closing the distance between them, her shoulder brushing against his exposed arm. Walking up the creaking, chipped and old wooden steps, the veranda was just as worse when they made their way to the door.
Honestly, it felt like it was inviting them inside. Reed pulled out the flashlight he bought before scheduling the Uber ride. Turning it on, he pointed it into the house, dust particles dancing in the stale air. There was a staircase in front of them, to their left was a threshold into what could only be a living area, and to their right to the very far corner looked like the reminiscence of a kitchen. The torch's light glided over the ageing walls, revealing punches in walls, broken bricks scattered on the floor like they had been thrown around carelessly. It looked worse than the first time he was here...
"Are you sure it's safe?" Birdie queried behind him as he stepped further into the building. He turned, flashlight at her feet.
"Trust me," he ended up saying, smiling at her, hoping it would ease her anxieties. She bit the corner of her lip, light green eyes scanning the area around her, the deep inhale she took filled the rundown building with some life. He could feel it, it stirred something deep within the walls surrounding them.
She stepped closer toward him, stepping on the tip of her toes and linking their arms. He felt her squeeze her body tightly around his arm—shaking—her chest pressed against his limb with each breath. Turning around toward the staircase, he shone the flashlight on the ground just in front of them as he led them straight ahead, watching where they placed their feet. He made sure she wasn't going to step on the broken chairs and old pieces of paper, he didn't know what could be lurking underneath.
