Angel ♡ Eyes

♡Chapter 37

Brick was scared of heights.

Odd thing to be reminded of, especially since he was on the ground.

But the cold air cut through his lungs like glass.

Memories were a funny thing. They always liked to pop up at the most inopportune moments. They crawl up your spine, slow and quiet until BOOM! They smack you in the face.

So, of course, on the ground, sneaking through the trees with Blossom, Bell, and Blake, he was reminding of his uncanny fear of heights. Perhaps it was the sound the paper-map made. The crinkling that sounded like crumbling dreams.

Bell went through boxes at the house, and ended up finding paper maps of different towns and whatnot. This led her to be able to piece together a map of her own—with the help of the internet as well.

But maps could only do so much.

With barely any light other than Blossoms fire, reading was hard to do. Landmarks and mileage weren't easily calculated. That led them to rely on the stars to guide them. And with the stars in focus, memories poked and pried at Brick's mind until he was almost drowning.

His mom had taken him on a plane to Paris when he was six years old. Little Brick loved airplanes. He'd even contemplated becoming a pilot.

Until that flight.

His mom had wrapped him in a hug and placed a kiss on his head. The wind outside the plane came crashing against the door and windows. They'd been thrown into an unexpected storm. The outside scared him to death, but he felt safe in his mom's arms.

Lighting struck the plane. An engine blew. Bags fell from above for the cabin pressure. The pilot gave some scared trembling speech that Brick didn't really remember. But he remembered the landing. The harsh crash. His broken leg—the bone sticking out. He remembered his mom's dying screams as she was crushed from some debris.

Water fell from the sky, drawing Bricks mind back to the present. The rain's full of ghosts tonight, he thought. He moved aside a bush so he could get through to the other side.

Blossom cursed under her breath from behind him. She grabbed the map from Bell and shoved it down her shirt to keep it from getting wet.

Brick chuckled to himself.

"G-Guys," Bell said through chattered teeth. "I r-really th—th-think that we sh-sh-should find sh-shelter."

"Agreed." Blake said.

Brick shared a look with Blossom before nodding. "Alright. We'll look for a hallowed out tree or a cave or something to wait out the rain."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Patience was something Buttercup did not have. It was a skill she'd tried to learn many times, though. However, it never stuck.

But now she needed to be patient. She needed to wait. Quietly. In the living room.

It was part of the plan. A plan in which Buttercup found herself waiting VERY patiently, while her leg bounced up and down.

Blossom left with the others.

Good, she thought. Four less people who I won't loose tonight.

Bubbles, Butch, and Boomer were hiding somewhere outside. They were under struck instructions to not help her out when those monsters got here. Boomer would track Buttercups location back to where they were keeping the professor. Then, they'd attack—and win.

But all that wouldn't be possible, unless Buttercup sat still and waited.

"What the hell is taking them so long?" She muttered, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"You remember the plan, Buttercup?" Boomer questioned, his voice surrounded by static.

"Yes. Now shut up." She shot. She didn't want there to be any chance the three of them would get found out at the same time she did.

"Somebody needs a happy meal." Boomer grumbled.

"Boomer."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

And once more, everything was eerily silent.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The rain was never ending.

It crashed against the earth, drowning the soil and soaking the grass.

Brick and the others had found shelter in a large hallowed out tree. Thought it was bigger than other trees, it was still just that— a tree. So they were all crushed together to avoid the downpour outside.

Blake and Bell were huddled together—intertwined as if this were there last moments on earth. Bell's head was pushed under Blake's chin, his hands resting on her shoulder as her back was flush against his chest. Much to Brick's confusion, neither appeared to be flustered by the situation.

Whereas Brick and Blossom—who found theirselves in a similar position—were battling the flustered atmosphere both were emitting. And to make matters worse, Blossom was struggling with keeping her powers under control.

But this time, it was different.

Ice coated her fingertips, yet fire danced behind her eyes—shifting her usual pink irises to a deep amber that glowed. Even her breathing was ragged. She could feel the unsteady rising and falling of Bricks chest against her back. His warm breath tingling her head.

She fought the nervous urge to bounce from one foot to the other, seeing as there was no room for her to even attempt to move.

God, why can't the rain just end? Blossom closed her eyes and exhaled. How long was rain usually supposed to last? Definitely not this long—she hoped.

"Guys?" Bell whispered. "What're we going to do if the rain doesn't let up? How are we going to sleep in this small confined space?"

"We won't sleep." Brick declared. "The rain will let up."

Each time he spoke Blossom found the ice around her fingers de-thawing. And then he'd stop, and the frost would begin to creep back up her hand.

Even if Brick said the rain would let up, one look outside and they knew they were going to be there all night long.

Damn it... Blossom sighed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It started storming outside.

Great, Buttercup thought. Just what I need. Talk about a horror film irl. She slouched down in her seat.

She kept running her fingers over the buzzed part of her head, then toying with the longer parts ontop. She was so, incredibly, utterly bored.

She wanted to kick someone's ass! She wanted to torture the life out of one of those asshats for even thinking about messing with the professor.

She was antsy. She was impatient. And she was incredibly pissed off! How long—after finding out where exactly your target is located—would you wait to go get them? They might move. They might—

The front door was busted open.