Stolen Kisses, Pretty Lies

~Chapter 8~

Okay, cookies are in the oven," I shut the oven door and looked up at Folklore. "What should we do while we wait?"

"Make the icing of course," Folklore was already pulling icing sugar out the pantry.

I nodded and started to collect ingredients.

Folklore and I laughed over our lives as we put the icing together, occasionally flicking each other with sugar or exploding into giggles over dropped eggs.

We nonstop chatted, or I nonstop chattered as Folklore listened and made sure to make the appropriate reactions and facial expressions.

As I was telling her a story about my family, I was interrupted by an anguished scream.

I froze, and the hairs on my arms stood on end. Folklore looked at me, fear evident in her eyes.

"That came from..." she whispered.

I forced a terrified swallow, "across the road, yeah."

I looked out the window, hands beginning to shake. My eyes searched the deserted looking building, not finding movement in any of the windows as the curtains were drawn.

"Midnights," I said quietly, my blood like ice in my veins.

"What do we do?" Folklore stepped closer to me.

"We have to go over there," a surge of determination and protectiveness flowed through me.

"Are you crazy? What if there's like a serial killer in there or something?" Folklore hissed in a hushed voice, as though said serial killer would hear her.

"That's exactly what I'm worried about!"

"Nine! We can't just- is that Midnights?"

I swung back around to look out the window immediately. A figure stumbled out the house and onto the lawn. They walked a few steps down the garden before heading down the road, nearly tripping over the curb.

Without a moment of hesitation, I turned around and sprinted downstairs, Folklore's footsteps racing behind me.

When I reached the street, I headed to the familiar figures side, who was now sitting on the curb.

I bobbed down beside her. "Midnights?"

Her head snapped up, revealing a tear-stained face.

"What are you doing here?" she looked at me with an angry expression.

"Me and Folklore... we heard a scream come from here," I sat down on the curb beside her and Folklore sat down beside me.

"Sounds about right," Midnights replied bitterly.

"Was that-"

"Me? Yeah." Her eyes glazed over with tears.

"How come..."

Midnights looked down. Her arm was no longer bandaged, and a nasty scar was forming on her arm. There were long, red lines down her skin that looked like they'd been created by a cat scratch or something similar.

"I can't say it."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. "How come?"

Midnights choked back a sob, "because if I say it, it will make it true. It's not true, she can't be dead."

My heart stopped for a moment. "Who, Mid?" I whispered.

The girl's floodgates opened and a loud sob wracked her body, her breathing quick and shallow. I resisted the urge to physically comfort her, knowing it might not improve how she was feeling.

"Po-Poets," she gasped out, her eyes wide and nails dug into her wrists.

Folklore inhaled sharply beside me. I dipped my head. I'd never properly met Midnights' sister, but I knew she was important to her.

Midnights began to hyperventilate beside me, tears streaming down her face and blood welling on her arms.

"Mid, you have to calm down," I said calmly, trying to catch her gaze.

"I can't," she heaved.

"Can I touch you?"

After a few short breaths, Midnights nodded. I gently placed my hand on her arm, where she was cutting into her skin with her nails.

"Look at me, Mid."

The hysterical girl looked at me, her deep blue eyes locking onto mine.

I subconsciously pulled her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers and squeezing it gently.

"Deep breaths." I continued to soothe her, rubbing her back with my other hand and counting her through breaths.

Eventually, Midnights' racing heart slowed, and her pants evened out. She was still crying, understandably, but in a calmer state. I didn't pull my hands away, as it seemed to help her relax. Suddenly, her head was on my shoulder, and we were closer than we'd ever been.

"Hey, I'm going to go make sure the cookies aren't on fire... we left the oven on," Folklore muttered quietly with a small smile. "If that's okay?"

I nodded and let her go. Once Folklore was gone, I squeezed Midnights' hand again.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Midnights looked up at me and swallowed. "I'm not sure."

I nodded. "Would you like to come back to mine for a little while? I can clean up those cuts and maybe get you something to eat?"

She looked hesitant. "Would that be okay?"

"Of course, it's just Folklore and I at home, you're always welcome anyway."

Midnights looked up at my house, clearly a little nervous. "Stay with me?"

My heart sunk and I nodded, offering a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

I helped Midnights to her feet and she took a shuddering breath.

"Can I say something really lame?" She said quietly.

I nodded.

"You make me feel safe, Nine. I don't feel that way with anyone else, I never have... and it's kinda scary.

"How come?" I replied softly, putting my hand around her waist and leading her slowly across the road to my place.

"It's scary because- because I know that you could really hurt me."

We got to the other side of the road and I stopped. "I would never, ever dream of hurting you, Mid. I swear my life on that."

"Thank you," she croaked. Then, Midnights did something slightly surprising; she pulled me into a tight hug. I immediately returned the embrace, inhaling her soft, natural, lavender and sandalwood aroma.

We pulled back after a moment, staring into each others' eyes, our breaths soft and quiet. We were still glued together, arms around our torsos and the sun setting behind us.

"You ready to go inside?" I asked softly once we'd snapped out of the seemingly recurring haze.

Midnights bit her lip and nodded. I took her hand and led her up the front yard, holding the door open for her as we entered and exchanging small smiles.

Inside, I was absolutely fizzling from our intimacy, not giving the smallest fuck about my sexuality, or anything else. All I was focused on was that she trusted me, she trusted me enough to hug me, to let me bring her into my home, to open up.

The slight problem: I was one hundred percent in love with this girl, and there was no way I could act on it.

~~

This plot line is so annoyingly rushed arghhhhhh