Gracie Abrams is eking out a solitary existence, fighting day-in, day-out against the drain of working customer service and nursing two newborn kittens in her off time. Out on her own ever since her sister moved in with her boyfriend, the burden of...
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"Oh, please." Hisoka dropped me, and I stumbled onto my bad ankle.
A great rush of air left me, and a dull ringing echoed in my ears. It wasn't going away. Anxiety bled me dry as I fought to see what was happening, but I couldn't. I couldn't see. I could hardly hear.
I reached out a hand, just as Sam changed her tactics.
"Ginny, can't you see this is wrong?" she cried in earnest now, words hard to decipher. But her meaning was clear. "Don't let her do this. Don't let—"
My hand found a shirt, one that was drenched but silky smooth. I nearly recoiled as I realized I had grabbed Hisoka, but maybe this way, I could keep him away from the teenagers.
"Awww, are you lonely?" he teased. "I'll come play with you in a bit. Be patient and sit tight."
Funny, that didn't make me let him go.
"Hasn't this gone far enough?" a strained voice registered as foreign in my ears before I realized it wasn't foreign. It was Ginny, but her voice sounded like she had a cold.
"Let go," Hisoka said, breath seeping out in a cloud of mist. Scratchy, like the warning of a hissing snake.
Spots began to clear across my vision. I could see a little bit now. Lots of gray streets, clogged with rain. Everything was so gray, it was disorienting.
Hisoka stalked forward two steps, and I ended up wrapping my arms around one of his legs, taking a splash beneath his heel.
Beyond us, Patty responded to Ginny's question.
"What's this, now?" she sounded surprised. "Are you challenging me? You?"
I glared through the rain to see their figures. Patty, sheathed in black. Ginny, crowned in white. They had turned to face one another, their clothes as dry as if they were indoors. The effect of their spell was so eerie. If anyone was still staring out their window, I had no doubt the police had been called. With any luck, maybe the sound of sirens would end this. Preferably before one of us died.
"I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish now," Ginny said, calm.
Patty's responding screech—while violent on the ears—wasn't too far off from my own reaction to hearing that exact same tone of voice. There was something immensely frustrating about speaking to someone who sounded like the embodiment of a business call.
I didn't like that Patty and I shared this trait, too.
"Hah? Accomplish? Everything," Patty raved, and though I could no longer see them past Hisoka's leg, I could still hear their argument as it was waged back and forth.
One side throwing straight vitriol, the other silently absorbing it, cleansing it, then sending it back as a dry plate of hard bread when all you wanted was something warm and delicious.
