𝟢𝟤𝟥,𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞

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CH. TWENTY - THREE
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛

Fuck this shit, she thinks as she drops more wood beside the Bricknicks.

Yesterday, she and Camil kind of... blew a hole in the wall of the kitchen because they tried to make a midnight snack, and now the Bricknicks have to  fix it, yet she's got to help. Fair enough.

"We have slang for a reason," Gally says, which is probably like the millionth time he does.

She exhales. "I didn't even say that out loud."

"Yeah, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"I did not. Talking about saying things out loud, why are you always grumbling on and on about the Builders?"

"I don't do that."

"You do."

"No. Not out loud, at least."

"Well, stop doing it in your head—" she stops, her eyes wide. "Oh, hell no."

"What?"

"Use your brain." The realization hits her so hard that she honestly wants to hit her head against the wall. "A week ago, I could hear you asking if I was alright, but you weren't there when I looked up. And I hear you grumbling about the Builders. Meaning, that if you hear me curse in my head, and I hear you grumble in your head..."

His face falls. "Ah, come on."

"That's not my fault!" She yelps. "Sharing dreams, hallucinations, feelings... thoughts won't add much. Wait, what if I..."

She focuses. Closes her eyes and forces herself to send the words toward him. "You hear it?"

"I hear you calling me an idiotic giant."

"Yes!" Joan nearly makes a jump. "I can send my freaking thoughts to you."

"You almost seem happy— hey, don't blow my head up with curses!"

She manages a few laughs. Honestly, if she takes control over this, she can let him know things from who knows how many feet away. But if she doesn't take control, he might be able to hear every single thought, and she doesn't want that either.

"This sucks," she eventually decides. "What do I not share with you? Exactly, nothing."

"I'm way more decent than you. We don't share our decency," he states. "Neither do we share looks—"

"I'm way hotter."

"—and gender and quite a lot."

"I am decent," she then defends. "I don't mistake brown for navy blue. I don't—"

"Alright, that's enough already," he groans. "Let's just continue carrying that wood, yeah?"

She plops down on the ground. "My arms hurt. You do it."

"No freeloaders."

"You can carry wood with one finger if you want to, and I need my whole freaking body because Alby decided to use the most heavy wood ever."

"Thank you for finding me so strong—"

"Didn't say that."

"—but you're being dramatic. Come on."

"Can you feel my anger?" She wonders. "How pissed I am getting because you always got to follow the rules? Can you feel it bubbling up with heat and then boom, it explodes with a ton of curses, which I can also send to you?"

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀  - TMR, Gally ¹Where stories live. Discover now