Radio 2

Chapter Six to Ten

Chapter Six

I don't think I'll ever grow tired of hearing him saying "for the rest of our lives." It's a bit scary, I'll admit, because we're sixteen and you always hear stories on people meeting their soulmate around this age or younger, but it sometimes feels like wishful thinking or a fairytale. Regardless, I still couldn't help wanting to tease him about it— just a little

Yeah? I asked, it now being my turn to smirk.

Feather got up just close enough to my face to shake his against mine, while he planted a big wet kiss on my lips and part of my face.

Eeww!! I mentally chuckled, wiping his saliva off my scrunched up face with the back of my hand. Thankfully we were in a "blind spot" in the living room, so no one saw this.

You love it!

Not when you do that!!

I don't believe you, Feather telepathically laughed.

Yeah, this made all the lying and false pretense with Kerian not so bad. Okay, I still felt guilty because we still had no evidence his dad works or has ever worked with the company that had enslaved us. For all I know Marcus Grey was lying and my mom was going off her instincts instead of facts. Yet something inside me couldn't believe this thought.

And as it neared time for bed, Feather and I planned to meet up at the makeshift couch around one in the morning. Hopefully, the twins would be back from the senior party before then. Not that they, Surge and Dialect wouldn't see us sleeping next to each other in time for Sunday's training session. But at this point, I was starting to not care what they saw... well sort of. Regardless, it was just a ten mile run and us trying to focus on pushing our abilities to a further limit. Now for those of you, who read the first book, will remember Feather is attempting to stretch his ability to a telekinetic limit.  Which would be super useful especially if one of us or an object started to fall. And if you all mention Jean Grey from the X-Men... well put this book down and walk away. I think I've already expressed my dislike for the X-Men, so yeah. I will say this little factoid and leave it— for the moment. Abominations tended to develop their ability around the age of five or six and have to come from two abomination parents. While, the X-Men mutants developed their ability around puberty and have normie parents. Got it? Cool.

Anyhow, getting ready for bed was filled with immense anticipation. The only sneaking around was making sure we didn't mentally or do anything that would give ourselves away, as I reopened everyone's mental doors so no one would suspect too much on why they had been closed earlier, and the others sleeping.

To Feather's and my misfortune, Blank and Vapor didn't get back until two and didn't fall asleep until three. We knew this because we could just hear their inaudible argument upon entering the house, though, oddly enough, was still loud enough to hear from the girl's room. Probably because they moved to the bathroom. From their thoughts— because I was waiting for them to go to bed, it surrounded around Vapor's stubbornness and cowardess in not apologizing and confessing her secret to me, as well as Blank's pushiness and abuse over his higher rank than hers. Once that was heard, I quickly closed their mental doors until they went to bed. I really didn't want to accidentally hear something I didn't want to hear.

Don't get me wrong, I was hoping the twins would accidentally let the secret slip, but I was too exhausted and nearly fell asleep. However, the prospect of cuddling next to Feather kept me up or at least I thought it would. And I could only hope it was the same... for... him.

And just like that my exhaustion over took me. When I woke up surprisingly in Marcus Grey's office, I had to rub my eyes to be sure. Unlike Kerian's house, the dictator's office's motto should have been "Cleanliness is next to Godliness." I mean there was not a single speck of dirt or dust anywhere. Three of the four walls were lined with filing cabinets. The fourth housed the asshole's mahogany furniture in an Art Deco style. The large chair facing the wall hung framed pictures of the worst presidents in my lifetime, at least.