late nights {Boris Pavlikovsky}

XIII

May 23rd, Tuesday

{boris}

I was restless. Potter and I waited in my living room not sure for what. My feet carried me round and round, pacing, practically burning a hole in the carpet. Potter sat with dog on the couch. We had gone back to his house and thoroughly searched but to no avail. It's been hours and the sun was beginning to set. The golden light is shown through the blinds.

"what if go to police?" I desperately ask my companion.

"she ran away from home, if we go to the police we would be putting her in more trouble than anything else." potter said taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. I let out a sigh and let my body collapse next to him on the couch.

"I'm worried."

"I know, I am too."

The two of us remained silent and just cherished each other's company. My attention was focused on the ceiling and the texture of it. I imagine how it would feel across my fingertips. Rough. The sound of an engine roars down the street, and both of us jump up.

"Quick, he'll kill the dog!" with that potter went running towards the back door. The vehicle roughly came to a stop. Dumb alki. I move away from the couch and make my way towards the stairs. I get to the landing once the door slams open. It was not my father who stumbled through the door, it was y/n.
Quickly I descend the stairs and rush to her side. She looks shaken, yet full of this ecstatic energy.

"holy shit!" I exclaimed as I grabbed her arm her whole body was shaking, and she remained silently gazing at the floor.

"I stole a truck-" she looks up at me and the expression she had was unsettling. Her eyes shimmered with excitement and her smile looked unnatural.

"what? What happened? Where were you." I demand answers. She just walked towards my kitchen. I stayed near the door with my arms crossed. I'm starting to get frustrated with her lack of response. She digs through my drawers and cupboards eventually finding a bottle of vodka and a pair of scissors.

"Seriously what's wrong?" I ask once more. She walks in my direction screwing the top of the bottle off and taking a swig with little to no reaction. This is really unlike her. She gets to me and hands me the scissors.

"What?"

"I want you to cut my hair."

"why? What the hell going on?" she takes another swig and sets the glass bottle on the floor. She looks up at me anticipating with a blank expression, I can tell my face is crumpled in confusion. Her head tilts slightly and her gaze moves from my eyes to the pair of scissors resting in my open hand. Next thing I know she steals them back and chops off a chunk of her beautiful hair.

"Either help me or ill butcher all of my hair."
===

I brought her to the upstairs bathroom and had her sit on the toilet seat while I sat on the counter.

"what do you want me to do with it?"

"something completely different." I stroked her hair brushing through it with my fingers.

"Can you please talk to me?" this time I ask with a more pleading and soft voice. This behavior from her is damn near the complete opposite of how she normally is.

"People are looking for me, I tried to get a ride here from an old man and I found a missing poster for me."

"Are you okay?" I began to cut her hair bringing it a lot shorter than it was.

"kinda, today was just a lot."

"I imagine, what about the truck?"

"it was the old man's, he got out to get gas and I drove away."