the storm inside | kitty (boyxboy)

25 | Clash of Words

"So..." Kit folded his arms and looked around. "What do we do now again?"

"First, we find evidence that Annabel will have left behind, because it is impossible to not leave behind a trace of any sign that she has been here before. Second, we wait here in ambush because based on logical deduction, this is Annabel's lodging," Ty continued.

"Right. We scour this place for... what exactly are we looking for again?" asked Kit.

"Any sign that this place has recently been in use, like traces of food, clean plates instead of dusty ones, etc."

"On it." He sat Tavvy down onto a sofa that was covered in layers of dust from years of disuse. Really, everything in this house was giving him the creeps—the weird portraits on the wall, the silverfish crawling through books, Ty's scary attitude.

He began to comb through the kitchen, peeking under cabinets and into cupboards, but everything looked centuries old and were probably conceived before the age of time. These were some ancient people.

"Found something!" Kit heard Ty's sudden exclamation and hurried towards the source of it. Ty was crouching in a very—say, enticing—position on the floor.

His eyes were lit up with the usual brightness that they always seemed to possess when he discovered things. His hands, slender like a pianist's, were clutching a book tightly. It seemed old, but when Kit looked closer...

"It's written in modern English," Kit observed. He was secretly proud. Old Kit would never have noticed that, but Current Kit could see that it was a very new font, clearly produced not too long ago.

Ty nodded, pleased. "Exactly my sentiments, Watson," he said, and there was something about the way he said Watson that made Kit shiver. Kit wasn't sure if that was good or not. It probably wasn't.

Ty opened up the book, his eyes flitting across the yellowed pages. Kit's eyes followed where Ty's fingers were unconsciously sliding over the pages. Then Ty's finger stopped abruptly.

Kit read that part too, and stopped in horror.

And then the doors of the little cottage locked themselves upon its occupants, trapping everyone inside.

Ty scrambled up and flew at the door, twisting its handle thrice, hard, before he started ramming himself against the door. He pulled out his stele and drew five Open runes in a row. But the door was locked through and through, and Kit realised they were trapped.

Completely, utterly, trapped.

"Damn it!" he hissed at Ty. "See I told you we shouldn't have come here, but thank you so much! You trapped us here!"

"How was I to know? It was the most logical decision, given the circumstances. Anyway, it's not like your idea was any better," retorted Ty.

"At least it wouldn't have trapped us. Now we can't even do anything."

"By the Angel, your idea was even worse. Who knows what would have happened if we had taken your idea? Better alive than dead, right?"

"Better free than caged, right?"

Ty lunged at Kit, grabbing him by the neckline of his shirt. "Yeah, so what if I led us into a trap? What are you going to do about it, Christopher? Judge me silently because oh Tiberius was wrong?"

Kit struggled for words. "Well, what's wrong with being wrong?"

"What do you think, Kit? What do you think is wrong with being wrong?"

"That you're not supposed to be?"

"Exactly!" Ty began to push him backwards, until his back hit a wall. "And why in the name of the Angel can't I be wrong?" Ty suddenly let go of him, falling to sit on the floor. "Why can't I be wrong?"

Kit moved to sink down beside him. He held Ty tightly in his arms. "Be wrong, then," he whispered against Ty's ear. "Do whatever you want."

Ty turned around; his hands grabbed at Kit's shoulder and Kit's hands fell to his sides. His skin was hot and cold and warm. Everywhere they touched burned Kit. He could feel the heat radiating off Ty at such a close proximity.

Then Ty did something unexpected. He buried his face in Kit's chest, his fingers moving across Kit's back rapidly, seeking out comfort. Though Ty was taller and stronger than Kit, right then he seemed so small. Only the faint outline of biceps betrayed this, but Kit pulled him closer nonetheless.

A soft snore broke through the silence, and both Kit and Ty turned to see that throughout the entire fight, Tavvy had been dozing off on the sofa. A light smile appeared on Ty's face.

Kit's brain exploded. Boom, Kit imagined. Mind-blown by a damn smile.

The smile was so pure and full of love, so sweet and caring it just made Kit melt into a tiny puddle of liquified goo. He fell in love all over again.

In love.

"God, Tiberius," he mumbled, pulling back, grabbing tuffs of his golden hair in his hands. "Why do you do this every time?"

"Do what?"

"Every single damn time I look at you, you just sit there looking perfect and I keep thinking how I'll ever compare to that. Meanwhile my stupid brain forgets us, I still can't remember but I know I once was in love with you and I look at you now and I know why."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" cried Kit. "You're so damn irresistible; who gives a crap whether you're normal or not? Your hair looks so damn soft and screw it I just want to pass my hands through it—"

"Whoever said you couldn't?" said Ty quietly.

"What?"

"No one said you—" Ty shivered, then swallowed and continued. "—you couldn't do all that stuff you said to me. Literally no one said it, Kit."

Kit's breath caught. "But I'm afraid you'll recoil at the touch. I can't—can't break what we have. I'd rather stay like this than go and screw it all up. Better that at least now, I can still look at you—"

"Don't you see it, Herondale?" Ty said, throwing his hands up. "I will never leave you because I can't. I think I'm addicted to you, Kit." He gave a low, raspy chuckle.

"Addicted to who?" Kit's face inched towards Ty's daringly.

"You, idiot." Ty's warm breath fanned over his face. "Christopher freaking Herondale."

***

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~𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭, 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓮~