Tempus Fugit {Who Killed Markiplier}

~Mixed Signals~

It had been just over a month since Celine moved out. The house was oddly quiet now. No longer did I hear the constant, meticulous tapping of her pencil as she scribbled away in her conspicuous little notebook. I had never been allowed to touch any of her work. She protected it in her room in a lockbox so I couldn't get into them.

The day before she had moved out, she had talked to me about the most current notebook. "I'm going to leave it here," she had explained, "since I've already filled it up, sans the last three pages. You are not to read it, or even open it! I'm going to keep it in the lockbox, so don't go looking for the key. Do you understand?" I nodded in agreement. "Only if something were to happen to me are you to read this notebook." she added ominously. "But," I interrupted quickly, "it won't ever come to that." she let out a breathy laugh. "One can only hope."

Besides the old notebook, I did read the many books Celine left behind. I soon found my mysterious sister was quite into magic. I found books about bits of witchcraft and fortune telling among other things of that nature. While I found it fascinating, it was also a bit disturbing that she kept this darker obsession. Nevertheless, I read through many if not all of the books in her absence.

~*~*~

It was Sunday. Work had been overly stressful, so I decided to stay home to relax and wind down. My boredom brought me up to the attic. I hadn't been there in nearly ten years. The old, unused stairs creaked and complained as I trudged up them. A puff of dust floated around me as I opened the door. The darkness that filled the room unsettled me a bit, so I rushed to find the light. After running into a few boxes, I found the cord and gaze it a sharp yank. The dust-ridden room was now illuminated by a soft orangish light.

Memories of my childhood and family flooded back to me as I looked around at the objects strewn about the large room. One of Celine's dolls caught my eye. The porcelain toy had vibrant blue eyes and long black hair. I remembered the day she got the doll. It was a Christmas present when she was eight. I had been about four at the time.

"Look Rissy!" my sister had exclaimed, "If you grow your hair out, this doll would look like you!" I smiled as I realized how right she had been. Like the doll, my long black hair fell to my lower back in waves. As I had grown older, my eyes had become a lighter blue. 'Maybe I should give this back to her when I see her next.' I thought. I gently laid the doll back down on top of a box and continued my nostalgic trip.

After nearly an hour of searching through the clutter, I found something that brought a smile to my face; my mother's old gramophone. I carefully stacked some of my favorite records on top of it, then, with some difficulty, lifted it up and carried it down the stairs and into the living room. I picked out my favorite Frank Sinatra album and the upbeat melody filled the room. Feeling childish, I danced around the room, my flowing white skirt flying up and twirling along with my body.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. I quickly halted, my face flushing red as I turned down the music. I shuffled over to the door, fixing my hair as I did. To my embarrassment, it was Damien standing on the porch. He grinned. "Hello little dancing queen." he mocked playfully. I blushed crimson and lightly smacked his arm. "Shut up! What're you doing looking through my windows anyhow?!" I exclaimed. He laughed. "Hey I just wanted to come and see you! You never take days off so I wanted to make sure you were alright. Besides, you were the one who left the curtains open." he replied defensively. I sighed and allowed a smile to tug at my lips. "Well come in I suppose you creeper." I pulled the door open further and he stepped inside.

He looked around the foyer. "I don't think I've been in here since Celine asked me to help her prepare for her and Mark's wedding." he mused, a smile playing lightly on his lips, "You know I would have come by to see you sooner, but as you know things have been a bit busy." I nodded. "Don't worry about coming to visit, I see you on a daily basis anyhow." I replied.
His gaze landed on the gramophone. He grinned and began looking through the records I had picked out. "Oh come on, tell me you have at least one Elvis track." he laughed. My cheeks tinted pink. "Actually I do. It's up in my room so I'll have to go get it." I replied, scratching the back of my neck.

I knew I only had one Elvis track- the single Can't Help Falling in Love. (iTS CHEESY I KNOW I'M SORRY HDHKDKISUYDHD). I shuffled up my spiral staircase and reluctantly took the record off my shelf, then sheepishly went back into the living room to join Damien. He snorted when he say it in my hand. "Is that the only one you have?" he asked. "No, I had another one but I think Celine took it with her." I replied through my teeth. He let out a laugh. "Well how'd you come by this?"

"Celine knows I'm a sucker for love songs, so she sent me this last Christmas." I replied simply. I walked past him and placed the record on the gramophone. As the first few chords played, Damien strode in front of me and held out his dance. "A dance, mayhaps?" he asked elegantly. I giggled and placed my hand in his."I would be honored." I replied with a courtesy.

He pulled me gently closer to him and placed his other hand on my waist while I put mine over his shoulder. I had never properly danced before and I began shaking out of nervousness of screwing up. Damien seemed to notice and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "What's wrong?" he asked in a whisper, gently pushing me forward so our torsos were touching. I shrugged, chewing on my cheek. "I've um.. I've never really danced before. Properly, anyway." I admitted shyly. He laughed. "Well technically, yes you have." he replied. "Huh? When?" I asked quizzically. "Don't you remember when the Colonel  I taught you how to "dance" back in university?" he replied with a grin. I buried my face into his jacket in embarrassment. "Shit Damien that was embarrassing!" I laughed. "We were drunk as fuck, remember?" he added.

I did remember the moment now. It was back in my second year when I still had fleeting feelings for Mark. We were sat in my dorm with the Colonel, the three of us tipsy after a night at the bar just off campus. I laid back on my back and sighed. "Daaaamieeennn." I whined. "What Irisss?" he groaned in annoyance. "There'sss a parrtyy soon an' I wanna take Maark but I dunno how to dance." I responded, occasionally slurring my words and hiccuping. The Colonel stood up messily. "Damien old friend, why don't we teach her! We don't want her to make a fool of herself in front of the egomaniac." he said, cheekily winking in my directing. I narrowed my eyes, weakly slapping his arm. "Shhhhuttp Colonel." I mumbled. Damien stood as well. "I don't see why not!" he said, then proceeded to tug at my arm. I grumbled but sat up and allowed him to pull me out of bed.

Damien began to sloppily swing me around in our drunken attempt at a dance, the two of us giggling like children. He tried to dip me, but his hand slipped and we both ended up crashing to the ground. I placed my forehead on my friend's shoulder as we laughed wildly at our own stupidity. We stood back up a few moments later, now disoriented and cackling messes. The Colonel took my hand. "Now now Damien that's not dancing a'tal! Watch and learn old boy."

We spent the rest of the night taking turns 'dancing' with each other until our clouded, sleepy minds took over as we passed out. It was embarrassing and idiotic to look back on, but fun nonetheless.

I smiled at the sweet memory. "I still don't count it as 'dancing'." I chuckled. "I really don't either, but it was a good night, even if our dancing wasn't." he replied. I nodded in silent agreement. "It was." I murmured.

There was a lull, then he began singing alongside the track playing in the background. I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I had never heard him sing before. While a bit shaky and unsure, his voice was compelling and rich. I smiled into the material of his tux. This was definitely something I could get used to.

Unfortunately the song did end, and so did Damien's singing. The room was enveloped with silence. I could even hear my own racing heartbeat echoing in my ears as I realized how close we were. Damien seemed to notice at the same time, as he suddenly let go of my hand and waist and stepped back. Looking up at him I saw an expression of embarrassment. "I um.. I better get back to the office. You.. you'll be there tomorrow I hope." he said, quickly fixing his suit. I stepped back and my shoulders slowly slumped, my gaze dropping to the carpet. "Umm.. yes.. I will be." I replied quietly. Damien opened his mouth ever so slightly as if he were trying to say something, but the look passed over his face for a moment before he turned and left the house without another word.

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a/n: hNNNNN HI I'M KALEIGH AND I FFFFFUCKING SUCK AT POSTING FUCK.

i've been sort of losing inspiration/motivation for this book but heyyy i rewatched wkm a few times and now i'm motivated again :D i'm going to type up the next few chapters and i'll (hopefully smh) have them up soon.

i love you all, thank you for your patience. byeee

~jsfp ♡
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