Dead Fools [ FIRST DRAFT ]

Grave o2: ᴜᴘsᴋɪʀᴛᴇᴅ

The second grave has been filled

Almon: Upskirted

Almon was vaguely aware that he could see up her skirt.

It was the kind of seeing in which he could have ogled every single detail, but the faint kind of foreshadowing over what might have been there. The immediate response was to look harder, to which Almon mentally protested against, for fear that the girl would catch him and somehow beat him to a pulp. He shut his eyes, and attempted to stand without sight.

This idea was no better than the first, and his hands slid over something soft. Fear raced through him like a shot of poison administered directly to his veins. He was quite sure he'd just dug himself into a grave that was getting deeper by the second. Thus, he was forced to open his eyes and see what calamity would befall him.

His slid open the lids of his eyes, his features contorted with the effort to reveal the scene he'd created as slowly to him as possible. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected, but it wasn't as bad as he might have imagined. He found his hands to have been gently caressing an arm, which lead up to a particularly pretty blonde.

The glazed over look in her eyes was most definitely not a good sign. It didn't appear that she was breathing either, and there was something under her head. Almon's breath hitched in his throat as he drew closer to see if was in fact not breathing. Lips pursed, he glanced around the empty streets before leaning in.

With a gasp, the girl shot up into a sitting position. The sudden movement forced Almon to fall back to avoid having their heads smack together. The concrete under him was cold and hard, and he was sure he'd scraped his palm with the movement. Wincing, both parties silently regarded the other with some form of fascination. It was an odd sort of interaction that consisted of no words. They examined each other closely as if the other being were a species of a different solar system.

The fascination on the girl's face faded in moments, her features sliding into a smooth mask of indifference as she regarded Almon coolly. It only then dawned on him that she had been injured in their collision, and had quite possibly been seriously hurt since it had involved her cranium connecting with the concrete.

The female stood, brushing off dirt from her apparel. Almon noticed just had small the girl had been, which would have explained why he'd knocked her over so easily. His eyes slid down, but in the process he gave a cursory inspection of her figure. He would have taken her to be a twelve year old, if not for the evident feminine features that jumped out at him.

It wasn't like he was staring, or so he assumed, but he heard her huff softly before looking her in the face. He found that her face was somewhat heart-shaped in structure, with a deeper accent on her cheekbones that was slightly above average. What caught his attention were her eyes. For a moment, he suspected they were a fierce red, before the thought faded away and he found himself staring into irritated hazy green oculars.

"Is there something you'd like to say," she prompted, brows raised with her expectant shift in her expression.

Of course, she was expecting an apology.

"I'm so very sorry," Almon began, "You're just a very small girl, and I didn't see--"

He was cut off quite abruptly by her fist connecting with his jaw.

While the girl's fist had been relatively small in comparison to his jaw, it didn't lack any bit of power when it connected with his face. It felt like, only for a moment, that she'd actually broken his jaw. The pain that radiated through his face coupleed with the force of the swing was enough to throw him back, but not to knock him off his feet.