f o u r

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Songs:

The Feeling ~ Justin Bieber ft. Halsey

Weight in Gold (Louis Futon Remix) ~ Gallant

Better ~ Banks
.....

I've always wondered what it would've felt like to have those lips on mine. So soft and smooth yet large and chapped. Now, I didn't have to wonder anymore. His lips were against mine in a gentle brushing- not passionate but only a whisper of shared feelings that were definitely flowing between our touching skin. It was sweet. Tender.

Why did it stop so soon? My phone started ringing after only a few moments of our contact.

"Fuck I'm sorry, this will only take a moment."

We both knew that moment had been ruined. He nodded anyway and looked down at his muddy Adidas shoes.

"What!?"

The line cracked before I heard crying on the other line.

"Con-Connor..please..don't come..home.."

It was Ben. He was whimpering and I could hear the other crying behind him. There was smashing and shouting in the background as well.

"Ben!," I lowered my voice to a whisper letting my mind run to the worst assumption, "don't move, don't speak- I'm coming to get you."

"Connor they're looking for you-"

He couldn't finish as I hung up the line before he could finish.

"Troye, I need to go now- my family is in trouble."

He looked momentarily confused but nodded nonetheless, but also insisting he come with me.

"Safety in numbers."

"Not with these people it's not."

Still confused as to who I was referring to, he simply jogged after me to the beginning of the boardwalk. Our sneakers both hit the boards with equal momentum to get to the car. Passing trees, children riding bikes, moms walking dogs, couples holding each other- people going on with their ordinary lives. Not at all affected by a possible kidnapping, a killing, a robbery. At this rate, all three of those things would happen. These aren't merciful people.

When we had finally reached the car, Troye was already out of breath. He sucked it up however and entered the passenger side as I started the car. Avoiding all streets bound to have red lights or some sort of traffic, I sped all the way back to the house, luckily not getting pulled over. Reaching under the seat where I had kept emergency supplies, I pulled out a black bag as I pulled the noticeable silver car into an alley about a block away from the house. Troye looked at me like I was crazy as I pulled out two handguns, a knife, and a switchblade.

"Here take a gun and the switchblade."

Troyes eyes bulged as I set a gun and the switchblade in his hand, taking the other gun and knife for myself.

"Ever used a gun before?"

Troye chuckled and shook his head. Well of coarse he's never used one, idiot. I sighed and cocked the gun so it was ready, motioning for him to exit the car and follow me. We creeped into the darkness, slowly shutting the car doors. Luckily, both of us were already wearing black on black.

The back of Colleen's house was styled to be a porch that looked over the expansive yard. Unfortunately, the house was also styled to have dozens of overlooking windows. It would be hard to get in without being seen. But it was possible.

Stepping under the first window with Troye following suit, I found the first basement window, tinted brown from wear.

"Here."

I motioned to the low window and Troye came to the other side where he could help me pry it open. We both took edges and pulled.

Locked.

"We can't smash it or they'll hear- cmon lets try this one."

Troye nodded and joined me at the next basement window.

This one popped open easily. I looked at him and he looked back at me with trust. Climbing through the window was no problem for me. I slid through like jelly. Troye on the other hand was too lanky to do so and had to find an uncomfortable way to squeeze through. I resisted from giggling.

Once inside, we began to make our way upstairs. The room we had landed in was a storage room of some sort. It was full of barrels that contained dozens of kinds of wine, beer, rum, any kind of drink you could imagine.. An alcoholics dream. Finding the concrete staircase that was dusty with spiderwebs made Troye and I triumphant we had found a way out of this creepy cellar.

"Let's go."

Hiding the gun in my coat pocket and the knife on the inside pocket, Troye followed suit and we began our way upstairs.

Passing through dark hallways and rooms, it seemed to take centuries but we finally made it to the third floor. Still nothing. We made it to the end of the hallway and I heard a bump and a rustle of clothing. Cracking open the door, I saw the room was just a bedroom that Colleen had been repainting, all the furniture in the center, covered with clear plastic. After that everything went in slow motion.

A click.

A scream.

Spinning around I faced the man himself. The man who haunted my nightmares.

"Well well well. If it isn't Connor Franta and Troye Mellet. We've been looking for you two for a long time."

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