d r a p e t o m a n i a
an overwhelming urge to run away
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COLD FINGERS TOUCHED MY FOREHEAD, icy pulsations pressing into my skin and I jerked awake in an instant, coming face to face with folds of copper-red hair.
Ella smiled down at me, albeit sheepishly, offering me a hand as I scrambled off of the sofa.
"Sorry, I thought you were sick," She explained, and I shook my head, indicating I was fine as I scythed my arms through the air, stretching my lethargy-laden limbs.
"No worries," I murmured. "How long was I out?"
"About an hour. I've been home for half," She said. "There's dinner in the kitchen, which Dyl kept warm for you, and I set you up a place to stay in the box room. Sorry there's not anything bigger, my place isn't very big."
"It's fine, El, I just appreciate the hospitality," I said, running my fingers through my hair. "If I can't return to my own room for a little while, then I'll take everything."
"Awesome, Kat!" She clapped her hands, eyes buzzing with delight. "You go eat, okay? I need to talk to the neighbours."
"Okay," I obliged, padding to the kitchen.
My plate was steaming on the breakfast bar; a glistening bowl of broth that spread its wings, sending its tantalising scent wafting through the air. I slid into the stood that preceded it and picked up my long spoon, touching my lips to the surface of the liquid to test the temperature. Hot liquid spilled into my mouth, barely scalding the surface of my tongue, so I stirred the soup and ladled another, bringing it to my lips.
"Good, you're awake," My brother noted upon entering the kitchen, seizing a dirty glass and tipping it under the stream of running water from the tap. "El just talked to the neighbours' kid. He's happy to walk with you tomorrow."
"You're joking, right?" I raised my eyebrows at this, swallowing my most recent mouthful. "I don't need someone walking me. I can get to school myself, Jesus Christ, Dyl."
"I know you're in a horrendously pissy mood, Kat, but the fact still stands that you have a horrible sense of direction," He deadpanned, glancing over his shoulder at me.
I grumbled, folding my arms over my chest and sinking into my seat. It was his favourite thing to bring up when I wanted to have any semblance of independence―my complete inability to know where the Hell I'm going at any one time.
"Fine," I caved with a sigh, swallowing the prideful, acid-laced remarks that rose to my lips, and forcing my face out of the scowl it had immediately relaxed into. "I'll walk with the stupid neighbour boy. Though, if he's not cute―which is highly likely―you owe me a tenner," I added, scraping my bowl clean and handing my dirty dishes to my brother. "I've got homework, see you later."
Ella had described my room for the time being as a 'box room', so I went off in search of one, peeking through doors and countlessly blessing their separation, as it lowered the chance of me coming across something scarring―possibly causing permanent trauma―in one of the bedrooms, or worse, the bathroom.
It turned out the box-room was a small, cramped room at the end, similar to a storage room. Upon entry through a doorway that brushed the top of my head, I took note of the small single wedged to one side, below the highest point of the ceiling, smattered with popcorn. From there, it sloped considerably, settling just above a small storage space, like a vertically challenged chest of drawers, which contained the only source of light in the room; a small table lamp.
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Devils and Angels
Ficción GeneralIn which Katya Collins faces her demons, and Caspian Lucas is one of them. [extended summary inside]