The hotel room was stuffy, the lamp that sat on the television stand dim. The air conditioner on the other side of the room blew the suffocating air in circles, making the thin comforters cool to the touch.
Chrissy sat on the bed closest to the window, her suitcase near the foot of the outdated frame, backpack precariously laying behind the tired girl's body. Lillia sat next to her, her hand resting on Chrissy's thigh. She sighed.
"You're sure about this?" Her dark hair brushed her shoulders, bouncing with frizz due to the heavy humidity. Her pale, long, slender fingers squeezed Chrissy's knee lovingly, the freshly-manicured, nude nails slightly printing the denim underneath them. Chrissy picked up the hand that lay at rest.
Chrissy's favorite thing to do was admire the ring that adorned her lover's finger, a promise ring that fit the curves of her delicate hands beautifully. The silver was nothing incredible, but Chrissy had saved up months of her weekly checks to buy matching ones. Thin, silver bands daintily lay on both of their left hands, a marquise cut diamond placed in between two smaller jewels. Chrissy twisted the band on Lillia's hand slightly, picking it up and kissing her knuckles, letting her lips linger on the soft skin. Lillia let her head fall onto Chrissy's shoulder, burying her nose into the nook where her collarbone meets her outer shoulder. Chrissy giggled, continuing to knead her fingers.
She didn't need to say anything for Lillia to understand what she meant. This silence that dawned on them often was enough for both of them to be satisfied. Talking was not something that the couple needed to effectively communicate, and Chrissy was grateful for that, as she bent down and kissed Lillia on the forehead.
Their plot was dangerous, and there was always the chance that it didn't work. Chrissy felt as if she had continuously relived the moment that she discovered what happened.
The truth behind the night that almost got Delaney thrown in prison was something that neither of the girls could shake, and it still felt necessary to find justice amongst the chaos.
Justice for who, they weren't quite sure yet, but Chrissy can still see the warm, red blood on her hands during the late hours of the night.
YOU ARE READING
She
Mystery / Thriller" Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!-One; two: why, then 'tis time to do't.-Hell is murky.-Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our pow'r to accompt?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have h...
