Prisoner Of The Storm (CANCELLED check my works for current version!!!)

Three

Three

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I had my nightmare three days ago, and August has changed kind of. He’s softer I guess. My feelings for him won’t go away, they’re doing just the opposite actually. I keep catching myself hoping that in two days he’ll stay and won’t leave. But I’d never tell him that, I cannot get closer to him. We see each other every day, and we started playing a game the day of my nightmare. He would ask a question and I would answer, then I would repeat. I found out his favorite color is blue, but not just one shade. He said he loves almost every shade of blue. He was really confused when I said my favorite color was grey. People usually are, I don’t just like grey, I like the grey color the sky gets really early in the morning when everyone else is asleep. It only happens a few times but it’s my favorite. He had looked at me for a minute but hadn’t said anything, even though he looked like he’d wanted to.

        “Hey. You really need to start locking that door.” August calls from the entrance.

        “Why? It’s not like there’s anything robbers would want. Plus, there are no robbers anymore.” I call back. He walks into the room and sits on the couch next to me, his arm behind me and his head resting against my shoulder.

        “Well it’s still safer.” He says. I close my book and look at him, trying to act shocked.

        “Oh how sweet, you do care about me!” I say, laughing. He nudges me and lays his head back on my shoulder, closing his eyes. I reopen my book.

        “What are you reading?” He asks, I lean my head against his and sigh. Guess I’m not finishing it.

        “It’s an old book about dragons and stuff I found a year ago, in this big dusty box along with a bunch of fantasy novels and poetry. The one I was reading is about these group of kids go and die by getting eaten by this huge golden dragon.” I say, closing the book. I’ve already read it a few times.

        “That sounds delightful, I didn’t know poetry still existed. I thought all of it, along with fantasy, was burned like fifty years ago.” He says. That’s what I had thought. People called fifty years ago ‘The Darkness’. Things got really out of hand, there was public whipping and almost all the books were burned. The ones left were for work and school. People stopped writing after that. There were no more authors of adventurous or poetry books. If you were found with one you were whipped with forty lashes, writing one got you sixty.

        “I guess these made it through…” I say, turning over the book in my hands.

        “Alright, onto a more fun topic where no one should die.” He says, sitting up. I turn to look at him, this can’t be good. “It’s not a big deal or anything, my parents just want to meet you.” I nod and lean back against the armrest, lying my legs over his. That’s not that bad

        He looks at me for minute before speaking again. “The thing is, they may have the idea that we’re more than friends.” He says, I glare at him. I’ll kill him.

        “And why, August.” I say, “Would they be thinking that?” He holds his hands up in surrender.

        “You know, I have absolutely no idea. Just go along with it for today. It’ll make them feel better and they won’t think I’m antisocial or something.” He says, standing up. I stand with him and sigh loudly. Too close, too close.

        “Well I guess I could, for a few hours. God this is going to suck. You owe me big time.” He smiles and smiles pulling me towards the door. I quickly stop and look down at myself, I have dark jeans and a dark orange sweater on. “Wait, we’re going now?” I ask.