Merome: Wild Animals

Day In Day Out

--= Lachlan's + POV =--

"Seven days. Seven. Days. Mitch! I just am not sure what might be going, what if something awful happened? Did he run away for real? If he did, where did he go? Is he hurt? Injured? I'm worried sick and he still didn't come back yet!"

"Lachlan, you think I know the answers?" Feet freezing in their tracks I couldn't help but flinch and turn to gaze at Mitch who was leaning against the wall, an unamused expression plastered across his face.

".....No....But I need somebody to rant to. Maybe send Jerome to sniff his trail down?"

Mitch letting out a small laugh, he set down the tub of ice cream he was eating all to himself and went over to the fridge raiding himself out of house and home with a chuckle.

"He isn't a dog Lachlan."

"But he's a bacca! Which is ten times better than a bloodhound right?" Fingers curling up into fists, a groan echoed out of my lips at the lack of care and sympathy Mitch was showing.

To be fair, I've been panicking for a good seven days straight ever since I found out he was gone. Lips curling downwards,

Mitch shrugged as he finally found a box of orange juice and popped the cap off pouring some of it into an already used glass that was most likely used by him.

"Sure, except it's not just any bacca, it's Jerome. He'll probably find a McDonald's, something stupid like that."

Mitch cracking himself up with his own joke, he tried grabbing his glass but failed and ended up knocking it over from laughing too hard.

The chuckles turning into swear words very quickly, a small sigh slipped from my lips as I turned on my heel and walked off. I mean, it was Mitch, there wasn't much to say about it really.

Face probably looking somber, I peeled my eyes off of the floor and onto the windowsill where there were trees surrounding the house and the grass greener than they were compared to any other place I've been to as of recently.

The sky a crinkling, faded blue, my eyes softened as they adjusted to the dim lighting coming from outside.

Blinking quickly a few times as sparkling green flashed through my eyes causing me to go temporarily blind when I turned back towards the Kitchen, I raised my arms up to my face and began to rub my eyes.

"I fixed it! Yeahhhhh Boiyz!" Scrunching my eyebrows still not able to see anything, I looked around for Mitch only to be greeted by sparkling colours and white. Lots of green though.

Hands reaching out for the wall, I panicked as I found nothing, only air. Desperation and defeat rising in my throat, I cringed as I finally felt something with the tip of my fingers but instantly lost it again.

I guess I just have to wait it out until I get my vision back. Looked inside too quickly so I couldn't adjust. Stupid eyesight, it's too slow for me...

Clasping the bottom of my palms over my eyes, when I dropped them back to my side hope and mostly relief shimmered in my chest to see everything clearly.

Including Mitch dancing horribly in the Kitchen victoriously because he cleaned up the spilled orange juice. Kind of wish I would have stayed blind now.

Head shaking itself on it's own, I turned around and went up the stairs to go to my room. It smelled like what a cottage should. It had a scent of an old book, but at the same time fresh air filled your lungs.

Maybe that's why Preston didn't come back, he might have not liked the air? Or he might still be on fire freaking out and trying to calm down.....I like the first idea a lot better.

Mostly because it doesn't make me feel like peeing my pants in fear for Preston. Nerves bundling and twisting around, I groaned as my body crumpled onto the closest bed,

face smacking into the pillow it muffled the groan that slipped from my mouth. I would have stayed in the wallowing position, except, I needed air.

Sitting up from the oddly comfortable defeated state, I leaned my back against the wall and tilted my head upwards so I was looking out the window that was right above the bed.

What exactly IS Preston doing? I would go and look for him, but it's one to a million chance that I would get lost. I'm no Jerome who can go sniff his way back home,

or Rob who charts the sun's angle and does that smart thing where he instantly knows where he is, or Preston who can set a flame in the dark and find his way back home with light,

or even Mitch who would probably get there just by sheer luck because, you know, he's Mitch. I don't think anybody really knows how Mitch does it he just, does. Logic doesn't work when you're with Mitch.

You just wish you never see his horrible dancing.