DYING MOURNINGS, original

twenty-two : A M Y

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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 : 𝐀 𝐌 𝐘 

(𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬)

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Tobias insisted on driving home with me and Crow, even Blondie and Winker were considering just to spend time in the cabin. I tried to tell them off but it was no use, my friends were difficult people to get rid of. I just didn't think Tobias would be one of them, forcing himself into the seat behind me as if he was afraid to have his eyes off me for a second.

We learned during our time eating dinner and trying to regain what little strength I seemed to have after two draining displays that Reed, West, and Stone could not enter the gray. What I could gather, it was because neither of us had shared blood like I had with Crow and Tobias. There was no mixing and, frankly, I wasn't looking to share anytime soon. I still needed to get over my hump of being annoyed that anyone could enter my sacred space if the blood oath worked.

I took my leftovers from dinner and put them in the fridge as Tobias lingered. Blondie and Winker took solemn seats in the living room, and, for a moment, it almost seemed normal. Just as it had been when the boys had returned from the gray and we had a bonfire. It almost seemed like a normal night, if not for the new scars on Blondie's leg and one I'd done following her in blindness.

If Eva, Monroe, Macabre, and the rest of the boys had come, it would've felt truly like home. Like we were all here together under different circumstances but we would never get that. Not really.

I couldn't keep thinking like that. I had things to do but with these watchful eyes, it was going to be difficult. Crow brought out a few beers for Tobias and Winker as I met Blondie's eyes. I could trust her more than the others and when she saw me motion my head towards the bedrooms, she got the message and stood from her seat. Following me down the hallway and into what would never be my bedroom in the cabin again, I dropped my bag from my shoulder and onto the bed.

"What's going on?" she asked as I pulled out my mother's journal. "Already tired of the bodyguard parade out there?"

"Something like that," I said, trying to smile but not finding it truly in me. I needed to get over this shit.

"Should we talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Blaire."

I looked up from my bag, from the way my fingers were gripping the journal. I needed to get inside the cover, see if the spell was there. I needed to find John and kill him before any of this even began to matter again.

She was frowning. "They can go into the gray, are you good with that?"

"Is it bad if I say I'm not?"

She shook her head, getting comfortable on the bed. "It's your place, you know? I'd be pissed too if suddenly it could be disrupted." She shrugged, picking at the fuzz on the old comforter. "They can only go in when you allow them, they can't get in on their own. So, like, there's some control to that, right? You're still in charge."

"Sometimes," I whispered, "I don't like being that way." Her brows furrowed and I clarified. "I don't want to be in charge." We'd had this discussion time and time again, but it felt different this time, like the fear was suddenly too real.