I'd Rather Be in Love than Dead

Chapter Five

Holy crap, chapter five already?

Something big happens in this chapter, so I suggest you read it all the way through.

Anyways, thank you guys SOOOOOO much for continuing to read this fanfic! It means the world to us, for real.

So, without further ado, Chapter Five!

~Anna

Chasity's Perspective:

The kiss was possibly the most wonderful thing I’d ever experienced, and John’s lips were possibly the sweetest taste I’d ever had the pleasure of tasting in my lifetime. Thinking back on it, I wouldn’t change a thing about our first kiss; it was perfect, with just the right mixture of gentleness and a hunger for more.

As he pulled me closer before finally separating our lips, I could feel the warmth that omitted from his skinny structure, and I honestly never wanted the feeling of his lips against mine to end. But of course, it had to and in what felt like no time at all, we were just holding each other and I was staring into his perfect eyes.

After a long moment of just existing around each other (which I could get used to) we pulled out of the warm embrace and continued our cupcake-ing.

We poured and mixed and stirred for a long time until at last we were pouring the chocolaty batter into the wrapper-lined tray and he was helping me steady the pan with a strong hand on mine (I don’t think he realized how weak in the knees I felt when he touched me) and after opening the oven door, we slid the tray in, closed the oven, and began cleaning up the terrible mess we’d made in Pat’s kitchen.

As we waited on the cupcakes to bake, John insisted that we lick the spoon (we also went after the bowl as soon as the wooden spoon was licked clean) and then I sat at the very edge of the wooden island in the middle of the tile floor. I lay back so that my small frame covered the middle section of the counter (I feared I’d fall if I lay at the edge), except for knees down, which dangled freely, occasionally bumping the wooden cabinet below me.

John leaned over me and smiled that crooked smile of his, and just when I thought we would kiss again, I heard footsteps. It sounded like someone running. John stood up straight and gently grabbed me by the back in order to lift me off of the island and onto the floor beside him, so that we covered the oven. And just as we formed our clever formation, Alayna burst in, shocking us both with the words that came next.

“Garrett’s gone.”

John and I exchanged a look and ran as fast as we could (which was great for him, as he had long legs, but not so great for me) and shot through Pat’s open bedroom door to find an empty bed and an open window. “S**t.” I heard John mutter.

S**t was right.

I guess Garrett finally got fed up with our caring and jumped out the window (there was a tree by it, but it’d take a while to climb down. But he’d die from jumping, so I’m assuming he’s a fast climber.)

I looked out the window and saw no trace of any living creature having escaped, but then again, Garrett was quite possibly the most silent being I’d ever met, and he could have easily left without a mark showing his escape route.

I heard the timer beep and watched John dart from the room in order to get the cupcakes before they set the house on fire, and then Alayna and I searched the entire house, outside, and most of the neighborhood. Garrett was nowhere to be found. 

And as we were sitting down in defeat, I looked to the couch across the room and nearly screamed.

“S**t, Kenny!” John yelled, wrapping a paper towel around Kennedy’s puss covered hand.