Spooky

Chapter 30

-Scourge's POV-

The rest of our week passes sans events; nothing important happens until Rouge calls Shadow on Friday to tell him about a Thanksgiving carnival on Saturday evening. She claims she won't be able to go, but wanted us to know about it regardless. Once she hangs up, I manage to coax him into going; he's definitely been in a bad funk lately, and I really hope this can shake him from it.

"C'mon, it's a holiday," I said, poking at him. We were relaxing in the attic space, sprawled out on the floor, me on my chest and him on his back. I was holding a pillow under me to be more comfortable, and he wasn't even wearing his hoodie for some reason.

"Hmph," he had closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, frowning a little.

"It'll be fun," I poked him again, right in the stomach, and he snorted.

"Cut that out," he grumbled, swatting my hand away playfully and opening his eyes. I was smiling hopefully at him when he turned to look at me, and he sighed, then smirked. "Fine, fine. Might as well, I suppose."

And so, it was decided. It's Friday evening right now, and we've gone to bed; I'm lying facing the window, eyes half-closed, fantasizing about what we're going to do tomorrow.
I've never been to a carnival event before, I don't think; if I have, I can't remember it. I'm going to do the best I can tomorrow to cheer Shadow up, I tell myself with a yawn. I know he's hurting about something—presumably, his family—but I don't know why; I just hope he can forget it for a day.

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-Shadow's POV-

I'm really not sure why I agreed to go to the carnival with Scourge tomorrow. I mean, I know why—I can't say no to his glittering blue eyes, and he looked so excited—but I really don't feel like leaving my house. I sigh, staring at my bedroom ceiling. Coming back here was a mistake, but it's not like I had any choice in the matter. With a sigh, I roll onto my side, shifting around to get comfortable.

"Tomorrow is another day," I mumble to myself. Yesterday was difficult as hell, and I think Scourge has caught on by now. He's been so sweet to me, so patient and oddly quiet. We haven't done anything at all in the past week, just laid around watching TV and movies or chatting casually, and honestly I was worried he'd be dissatisfied but every morning the moment he sees me he smiles, eyes glowing like gemstones in summer sunlight. Being around him lifts my spirits, so maybe some time out of here will make me feel better. I don't know, but regardless, we're going out tomorrow.

The next morning, I find myself in slightly better spirits than the night before; Scourge's bouncy excitement helps as well. His tail wags the whole day, intermittently—I can tell when he's thinking about tonight, using it as a barometer. It's honestly adorable. After breakfast, I decide to try and talk him into wearing some eyeliner, just for fun, and to my surprise he agrees with a lot less fussing than I thought would go down. It only takes me maybe fifteen minutes to, as he puts it, "goth up his face," and once I'm done he looks pretty great, if I do say so myself.

"There," I say triumphantly, pulling back from his face. "All done."

Scourge slowly opens his eyes, blinking up at me from his slouched, seated position on my bed. Brilliant blue eyes rimmed with a deep purplish-black stare into mine, and my breath catches in my throat. He looks so intense, so ... beautiful. With his leather jacket, sharp teeth and his scars, he looks so badass. "Well, gimme a mirror or somethin', lemme see!" I fumble about for a second before snatching the mirror off my desk and presenting it to him, then moving to put away my makeup; I keep stealing surreptitious glances at him, waiting to see his reaction. He looks at his reflection for quite some time, then back at me, and then at it again before cracking a smile. "Not bad, Stripes..." he says softly, giving me a strange look. "Not bad at all."