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Liquorice finally gave in to her instincts. She couldn't spend more than two days without his presence, and it scared the hell out of her.

Her fingers were shaking nervously when she pulls herself into the light blue car sitting in front of her house. The skies weren't bathed with the sun yet, the skies just turning purple and orange with the rising sun.

Liquorice turns the ignition on, a swarm of different thoughts running through her mind. One of the most urgent thoughts: will it be tense?

Bringing her lip between her teeth, she wondered if John would hate her. She wondered if he had time to think it over and wanted Liquorice out of his house.

She thought of things to say to him. She didn't just want to say that she's sorry, she wanted to show him that she was.

Maybe she was just overthinking it, but she couldn't help it. Overthinking situations was a thing Liquorice did professionally.

Quicker than she wanted, she was parked in view of the wooden house. She wanted to turn around and just escape the uneasiness in her chest but before she could escape, a person knocks on her window.

Wide eyed, she opened the window and looked out to the man standing there. He wore the same t-shirt everyone wore when associated in the project. Liquorice recognized him as John's informant, his name Winston.

"Hello Liquorice," says Winston, his smooth voice somehow calming Liquorice.

If he had normal clothes and wasn't probably mean, maybe he would be handsome. Liquorice was thinking maybe the beard didn't suit his soft features and wondered what he looked like underneath the extra hair.

"Hi," Liquorice breathes out and releases a breath she didn't know she was holding in.

Winston glances around.

"Isn't it a bit early for you?" He asks, vaguely.

Liquorice knew what this meant. It meant that he knew that Liquorice usually woke up in the afternoon. It meant he payed attention to her.

"I believe so," Liquorice sends a small smile his way. "But I couldn't fall asleep."

Liquorice tried desperately to get rid of the shaking in her voice, but it sounded she was close to tears, which was accurate.

Winston glances around, this time more urgently.

He leans in and says in a hushed voice, "I know what happened."

"I-is he okay?" Liquorice asks. She wondered how he knew. "How did you know?"

Winston shrugs his slim shoulders. Liquorice realized he had the physique of a young boy, to his slim shoulders to his thin build. He couldn't be older than 18.

"He's been busy, you know—usual stuff," Winston says, resting the gun he had onto his shoulder. Liquorice's eyes widened upon seeing the gun.

Winston looks at her eyes, and to his gun. "Sorry." He says sheepishly, pulling it down.

"And you two have been the talk of everyone," He bites his lip harshly. "We think you're perfect for him, Liq."

the siren † john seedWhere stories live. Discover now