𝐒𝐲𝐧 ┃𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

76. 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑓

May 13, 2023

Queen

I glanced at Syn, an annoyed expression painted on his face as he walked beside me. Crossing the street every step he took, his wet shoes would make a squishing sound that had begun to aggravate him. I found his irritation amusing along with everything about him at the moment. He was dressed in the soaked clothes he had decided to jump in the lake with and slapping his cell phone against his palm.

"We can put it in rice," I told him.

"Put what in rice?"

I pointed at his cell. "Your phone."

"Why the hell would I do that?" His brows creased in confusion as he looked at me like I was losing my mind.

I laughed. "It's a remedy to devices that fell in water and stuff. The rice draws out the water after a few days."

"I don't have days to wait, unfortunately," he muttered. "Despite what's going on, I'm still the King of Hell and there are people I need to stay in contact with even if I'm staying up here."

"You can use my phone until the rice does its job. Don't worry. And it's not like we can't just go to Hell every now and then to handle things that come up."

"We?" He looked at me.

"Yes, we." I shrugged a shoulder. "Hell is where you grew up, Syn. And as selfless as your offer earlier was, I wouldn't make you stay in New York for me. The thought of going back isn't one that I haven't thought about, trust me." Syn pushed the gated door open for me and I walked through.

"So you'd come back home?" He asked me.

"Well, you considered leaving your life there to be up here with me. It's only fair that I do the same, right? It wouldn't hurt for me to think about it."

He smiled, nodding. "Okay."

"One step at a time though."

"Of course."

I took his hand into mine and he accepted it, lifting it over my head to rest his arm on my shoulder. I grimaced when I felt his wet shirt against the back of my neck and he chuckled, pulling me against him and getting my dry clothes wet with his. "Ew, Syn...stop, you're wet!"

"Oh, relax." He rolled his eyes. "You never hear me complain."

"Wait, what?—"

"Finally!" I tore my eyes away from Syn's cocky smile and looked up at the stairs in front of the house. Abel sat perched on one of the steps, smoking a cigarette. "Where have the two of you been?"

"On a walk," I answered. "Since when do you smoke?"

He coughed, beating his chest. "Today."

"You okay?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Yes, I just wanted to figure out the obsession people have with these things."

"And have you figured it out?" Syn asked.

"Nope." He blew out a cloud of smoke. "But it does make me feel a lot cooler than I am. Almost makes me think I can kick your ass if my sister gets hurt again."

"So it makes you delusional—"

I jabbed Syn with my elbow, prompting him to stop his sentence and clear his throat. I had to admit that it was funny, but I wanted my brother to like him, and compared to everyone else, he and Abel were the ones that didn't have a close relationship. Abel didn't know Syn well before all this happened- for him, there was no reason why forgiveness was warranted.