If The World Ends Tomorrow | ONGOING

𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓍

𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟹𝟶𝚝𝚑

It's weird being sober.

Let me not lie, half sober, I still drink and smoke, but only on the days I'm not with Eden, which has been almost every day for the last week, my morning cigarette doesn't count, and neither does my bottle of beer at night, during the day I'm sober for what counts. I always feel this itch for a drink or a puff but it's easy enough to ignore during the day.

I take a puff of my half-finished cigarette.

Half sober I said.

I squish it against my desk of drawers, it joins the thousands of other circular marks before I toss it in the small princess-decorated bucket, it's half full of beer cans the ones that made it to the trash can. 

It's a humbling sight, reminds me just how bad I am.

Leo only lets me smoke in my room, it's an unspoken rule of sorts, it's our way of pretending that everything is fine.

"Morning," I say to Leo who's sitting at the breakfast table that's too big for the little nook it sits in. 

Leo looks up over the chipped mug he's drinking from, we rarely interact he leaves too early and I come back too late.

"Morning." He squints back down at the newspaper open in front of him. 

He needs glasses but he's never had enough money to get them, and when he does there's always something else that needs fixing. 

Leo has this way of putting himself last. 

"You smell," he says, even though I'm over a couple of feet away from him. He always says it, it's his way of disapproving of my actions without directly saying it.

"I took a shower this morning." Sure I'm aware the smell of cigarette smoke has a way of sticking, but by using rose body wash, and drenching myself in rose perfume, or body mist, it cancels out pretty well if you ask me.

"Hmm." It's a dismissal.

⋆・○・✮・○・⋆

Overgrown weeds tickle my arms as I make my way through the overgrown backway of Mrs. Huxley's backyard, Eden is right beside me ducking tree branches and holding them out of the way for me here and there. We've been walking so long, I think we might be lost, even though I've gone this way before to get to exact same place.

That was 5 years ago, sure, but how much changes in 5 years... a lot I guess.

"Are we there yet?" Eden asks.

I give him a look. "Are you a child," I retort, a smile playing on my lips before I give in. "We're almost there, Stranger."

As if on cue we reach a big expanse of space, it's a meadow, with daisies, and dandelions, it's different than I remember, but it's just as pretty. 

The sun is all but gone, the moon visible in the sky, and the fireflies are starting to show themselves. I hand Eden one of the jars I'd brought with me.

"Let's catch some fireflies."

He gives me a look. "Fireflies."

"It's on the list, stop moping. Whoever has the least owes the other waffles at the diner!"

⋆・○・✮・○・⋆

"Giselle!" Eden calls out.

I'm crouched in the weeds it doesn't take much since they're only a couple of inches shorter than me, I can see the top of Eden's body as he wades through them looking around, it was dark out, the sun almost fully set, I had a full jar of fireflies, they sparkled in my jar. I stalk through the weeds like a lion in those documentaries they show on the last day before breaks.

"Giselle," he calls out again. "We're supposed to be catching fireflies not playing hide and seek."

"Boo!" I jump onto his back, he staggers but catches himself quickly, his hands holding onto my calves, I drape my arms over his shoulders leaning to whisper in his ear. "Did I scare you?"

"No."

"You're strange." I slide off his back. "Look," I grin, holding up my jar full of fireflies, periodically blinking, illuminating the darkening night. 

I'd somehow managed to catch about a bazillion, to the point where I couldn't catch anymore without the same amount if not more escaping.

"Wow," Eden says.

My eyes narrow. "Is that sarcasm, stranger?"

"It's all up to interpretation."

I roll my eyes. That phrase it's how he shows his disagreement, besides rolling his eyes.

"I dislike you."

"Sure you do." He murmurs, his hand reaching up to my hair, my breath hitches, any sane girl would if Eden Huxley reached his hand towards you. 

Sure, I don't become braindead by his beauty but I'm not immune, I'd have to be blind.

I'm only a girl.

Not a split second later his hand pulls away tossing a small twig on the ground. Probably from the bush, I'd squeezed my way through to get to the real breeding grounds of the fireflies.

"Does my hair look like a rat's nest?" I pick my hands through it, breaking the silence.

He shakes his head. "I've never seen a rat's nest." He picks another twig from my hair.

I glare at him, though it's halfhearted. "You're not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be." I could pretend to hate this sarcastic side of Eden, but I like it, it means he's trying a little less to upkeep that stoic unfeeling demeanor of his.

"I won, I'm claiming my waffles tomorrow." I jump onto his back he catches me as easily as he did earlier. "Carry me back?"

"I suppose."