Kristian carries a faintly awake Naira through the lobby of the Assault Division. She rests her head on his chest. He scans the lobby and sees the members speaking to one another, some stepping aside as he makes his way down the path and to their hall.
"What are you doing?" Kristian looks down when he feels Naira poking his bare chest.
"You're gettin' buff, man," Naira says, looking up.
"You think so?" he chuckles and asks, looking down at Naira, who stares through the trees. The sunlight dapples her face.
"Yeah, I mean, no offense, but when I first met you, sure, you were taller than me, but I'm pretty sure we weighed the same," Naira says with her head limply thrown back, looking up at the trees.
"Are you sure you aren't just getting smaller?" Kristian asks with a chuckle and then stops, realizing what he's just said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that-" he begins looking down at her, who looks back, not fully paying attention.
"Huh? Oh, no! It's fine. You're probably right, I've been eating so much, but it doesn't seem to be going anywhere. I've probably lost a couple pounds since being here. I bet it's because of these damn things," Naira complains, lifting her svelte arm.
The two step through the doors of their hall, which shuts behind them, silencing the noisiness of the lobby, only allowing them to hear Kristian's boots clicking against the golden floor.
"Thanks, I think I'm good here," Naira says as he gently places her on her feet, and she leans against the golden door of her room facing him.
"No problem. Are you sure you don't need any more help?" Kristian asks.
"Yup," she smiles. "I'm just gonna take a quick shower and then meet Credence."
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," Kristian says as he walks toward his room.
She lets out a constrained breath as she closes the door. She doesn't hesitate to put on her oxygen cord and walk to the bathroom. She strips out of her clothes and throws them into the washer-dryer system in the wall. She then looks at herself in the mirror, and a jolt of unfamiliarity strikes her. She runs her hands through her hair and on her body, noticing she has visibly lost more weight, and her once umber skin has turned pale and has lost its vibrancy. Her sunken eyes squint to get a better look at the stranger staring back at her. She stares until she is fully convinced that this person is her. Another sigh leaves her lips, and she turns the shower on.
After exiting the shower, Naira dries and flat irons her hair. "What the hell?" She says aloud. She looks in the mirror closely and can see one of the locks of her hair has turned gray. She steps even closer and holds up the lock of hair. "Not too bad," she lets go of her frown. "Random as hell though. I'll probably grow into it," Naira says to herself. She runs her fingers through her hair, checking to see if there are any more gray strands. After spotting a few, she pulls her hand away only to look down and see her hand is covered in not only the graying strands but the black strands she would have assumed were healthy. Looking down at her feet, she sees the strands of hair sprinkled around and on her feet. "Of course," Naira chuckles softly and shakes her head as she rubs her hands together to rid her hands of the hair. "Damn it," she grunts as she looks into the mirror, trying to get the hair off her still moist skin. It refuses to leave her. The hair sticks to her as she frantically tries to distance herself from this reminder of her fleeting presence. She laughs softly to herself and continues to try to get the hair off of her face. She was tired, and her smile seemed to be fading. She continues to laugh in an attempt to fool herself into thinking she's genuinely fine, yet when she looks back at her reflection, she realizes tears are rolling down her cheeks. The smile that once came so naturally is now painfully hard to keep, and she finally lets her smile fall. She covers her mouth as not to be heard by anyone, even herself. Agonizing wails slip through the hands she tries to cover them with. Trying to pull in air with each scream seems impossible, but she manages to do so each time she's sure she'd pass out from the lack of oxygen. She feels her body tremble uncontrollably, and her skin gets hotter and hotter.
YOU ARE READING
Pondbell: Coldblooded (Ongoing)
Fantasy"If I'd just killed him when I first met him, if I had warned her just in time, how many lives would I have saved? How much heartache could have been prevented?" What would you do if you were living in a world where werewolves, vampires, elves, merf...
