On Friday, June 27th, an ironclad bond was built over the lackage of empty bottles and appropriate sadism. Nathaniel Andrews wasn’t normally the type of person to give up personal information. But Kalliope Borders was the type of girl with an all-purpose key that can break into people’s hearts from the backseat of her eyes.
Soft intimate whispers, carried by the wind that creates the push and pull of the adolescent universe, blew through open ears and lost eyes. Bodies folded together like old woolen blankets, breaking the wind force that broke their unforgiving silence. Wandering fingers and concrete walls enveloped their normally, very humble demeanors and hid them from their crippling insecurities.
“Does it hurt?” Nathaniel wondered, his eyes drifting towards the dew collecting on the mossy floor they laid on.
Kalliope shifted away from her companion for a moment, their long-lost voices echoing lightly. This would’ve given away their locations if normal men were gifted super-sonic hearing, instead of that skill being bestowed on the creatures of the night. Pushing a small collection of hazelnut strands behind her pointed ear, her lilac eyes pierced fiercely into melting chocolate.
Their eyes shifted away for moments at a time, a newfound silence melding together with a cloudy level of confusion. “Of what pain could you be referring to, Nathaniel?” Kalliope spoke pretentiously, the left corner of her mouth twitching upward and her mouth let a soft sound escape that could’ve been vaguely described as amusement.
His eyes danced with light amber flames, his laughter far more hidden and buried deep than Kalliope’s, but just as lively. “Did love hurt?” Andrews questioned, his jawline lit elegantly in what could be compared to candle light.
“Past tense? Already, Nate?” She recoiled back from the swirling movements of soft fingertips.
“What could I know about love, Nathaniel?” Lost eyes met in desperation for far more seconds than usually acceptable, waves of distrust washing away familiarity,
Nathaniel flicked a soft strand of dark oaken hair away from his face and let out a light sigh. “From what has been spoken around, I believe you should know more than a boy like me could ever dream of knowing.” Nathaniel Andrews was an ordinary boy, or so he thought. Kalliope Borders was not, or so was what Nathaniel thought of her. She was different and she was special, or at least that was the opinion of her that Nathaniel Andrews held onto.
“With an attitude like that, you’ll never get the information that you’re looking for.” The bodacious she-wolf sneered, sliding her hips out from the lock of Nathaniel’s and outstretching a thin hand towards the feeble boy. Without hesitation, he wrapped his bruised hand around her and brought his rickety body to its feet.
Their bodies moved robotically away from their resting place and into inadequate lamp lighting that would only grow dimmer as their friendly expedition persisted. Tightly laced steps imprinted themselves into the muddled earth, a soft night breeze bitterly grazing against their exposed ears. Surroundings flashed by and stayed in a infinite blur, unable to be focussed upon and to be never understood. Nathaniel ran the back of his hand against his eyes, trying to make sense of where he could be and where the beautiful woman was taking him. But with every struggle to see clarity, he was rewarded with obscurity and more unanswered questions. Before he could object to this twisted perception, his muscles stiffened. Brushing his mental wanderings to the back of his mind, he focussed on the simple things. Like trying to keep up with Kalliope, for example.
Nathaniel was smacked with the hard truth and her stiff hand, snapping against the chill of the night. “Did that hurt?” Kalliope finally set her vocal chords afire, her eyes dancing in the light of the pain she threw at Nathaniel. He staggered a few paces behind him, the soft dirt kicking up against his calf and back from where it came.
