Devils and Angels

xxxiv. kisses from strangers

b a s o r e x i a

an overwhelming desire to kiss

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AFTER A WHILE, THINGS BEGAN to spiral into the same sober daze that they always did. When it came to Derek's family friends, who threw the same mid-March bash every year, alcohol was a staple, and I was no stranger to it, even at the best of times―but with my injury, there was little I wanted less than to disrupt my healing process, so I stuck to the same miserable can of beer for the majority of the party. 

Most of my friends were off socialising, and it struck me that I should find one of them and do the same. It was no secret that Derek's older cousins had a habit of driving in from wherever, usually ramping up the amount of male testosterone to its peak, no one bothering to read their Warning: do not piss off labels before someone struck a match and something ignited. The ones I had met so far after two years' attendance had been alright, though, despite Der-bear's warnings that some of the older ones got borderline creepy when exposed to alcohol―those were the ones I prayed I would never meet, or at least, would be able to defend myself from if the time came. 

I came here every year that I'd been invited, dressing up for a good time, Arch and Jessa flanking me each side. Until earlier this year, it was the only social event I was ever willing to even be in the same atmosphere as Caspian, since it was exclusive to only Derek's closest friends. Until earlier this year, I'd always been able to attend with my best friend.

This was the first year I'd arrived without wearing my usual party outfit of a dress, and though my ensemble still fit in seamlessly with the smoky sky and bonfire, my attire was nothing special. A simple pair of high-waisted shorts and a cropped black bardot tee that I'd found in the back of my wardrobe―or, rather, Dyl found, since my leg was practically useless―and hardly to be contested. It was the crutches that really sealed the deal though, and I had to resist the urge to fling them into the bonfire, since they were helping me get around.

The darkness was daunting, but the effervescent noise a constant reminder that I wasn't alone, and I relished in the company.

Thoughtful, I took another miserable sip of my miserable beer, and took note of the taste since it reflected my mood―miserable―even though I had both no reason, and every reason, to be.

I'd been standing on the outskirts for a while now―any longer, and some pitying seventeen year-old would ask me if I wanted to third-wheel them and their significant other, or any other equally humiliating circumstance. Even just the thought made me physically wither inside; I quickly began to stagger away from my spot by the tree, in the opposite direction to where the party was happening.

I thought I'd be alone, avoiding the thing I was known to love, but with our matching injuries and matching trauma, it shouldn't have been a surprise that Caspian was here too. 

I stood there, debating whether I should stay or leave, when Caspian's voice broke the silence.

"It's, um, it's probably time for me to return to the party anyway," He declared, glancing back at me for an instant. His fingers were clutched around a can that mirrored mine, the same red on the logo that dusted his cheeks. 

"Oh." I stayed rooted to the spot as he clambered to his feet, taking another sip of his beer―is it as miserable as mine? I briefly wondered, a distraction from the thought that he was starting to leave.

After the past few days, it was no surprise to me that Caspian and I were on tenterhooks. We both fled when we should have been fighting, and now, all that was left between us was fire and brimstones.