36. blacks and blondes

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When they kissed

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When they kissed.
J A Y

Tightening Soren's tracksuit pants with the white strings, a yawn escaped my lips. A large blue shirt hung past my hips, smelling strongly of Soren, and for some reason, it was comforting.

My feet found their way into the large bathroom, running cold water over my face and I gave thanks to past self for removing my makeup the night before.

My dad has been reluctant to let me stay overnight but I had reassured him that I would staying in the guest room. The McKinin mansion was safer than my own house, which was probably the reason he let me stay.

I walked down the stairs past multiply doors leading to god knows where, feeling lost I stopped, looking around the floor for something I'd seen before. Nothing.

Trying to find Soren's room in the very least I went another up another floor. Randomly reaching for a door knob I turned it, trying to peek in at the very least.
It was locked.

"You shouldn't go snooping around in someone else's house." Alberts stone cold voice cracked through the silence, making me spin around in fright.

He looked a lot like Soren, still handsome at his age. Yet, obvious stress had aged him greatly. Blonde, broad shoulder and the coldest, soulless blue eyes I've ever seen.

"I was just, um—" I turned awkwardly to gesture to door and decided not to half way through motion, "Well, I was trying to find Soren's room."

He raised an eyebrow at me and I added quickly, "No! Not like that, I was lost and walked up to another floor and--"

He held up a hand as I held my own hands in guilt even though no crime was committed.
Pulling a mass of keys out of his pocket, Albert flicked through the multiple keys until he found a small, unique gold key. I watched in shock as he unlocked the door.

"Go look inside, see why we keep it locked."
He swung the door open and flicked on the light. My mouth dropped as I stumbled into the square room.

Dust poofed up with the movement of my footsteps. Trophies stood like ghostly trees in a dark forest, stacked on the dusty shelves.

Awards in frames lay abandoned in stacks on the ground, boxes filled with different materials were stuffed limply into cardboard boxes, paper certificates crumbled on the ground.

"Take a good look..." Albert voice was cold as he stared around the room, "This is what that boy gave up on."

"Soren, he won all of these?" My voice was hoarse, looking at one of the trophies, 'Player of the season' engraved into into the gold material.

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