Chapter 2-Owen

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The world outside of the bus was shrouded in murky darkness, the clouds heavy and grey. My window was hit with torrents of rain, the sky only breaking from its gloominess for the occasional strike of lightning.

My breath fogged the glass, and I turned away. Mogli was in the seat next to me, reading a book thicker than a brick. He seemed really into it, his lips pursed together and his eyes sparkling. I had never been super into reading, but sometimes I wondered how bad it could really be if people like Mogli and Milo devoured books of that caliber, dedicating weeks to finish them off, page by page.

Milo. My heart squeezed in equal parts pain and joy. The day he told me he loved me had been so chaotic, I wasn't sure what to do with myself. In the days following I had kissed him senseless in every spare moment.

We were practically glued at the side for the trip back to the cave. That time was filled with laughter and traveling games with the group. We were exhausted from the journey, but giddy off of the high of a major win. Everything had seemed near-perfect then. But once we got back... I sighed, my chest tightening. I wish I could take away all of Milo's pain and replace it with undiluted joy. He deserved that at the very least.

"Stop brooding, it's ruining my book," Mogli said, his voice low and monotonous. I rolled my eyes and smirked half-heartedly at him.

"Well, your book is ruining my brooding." I teased, my voice strained in an attempt to sound playful and carefree. Not like any of us had been carefree in a long time, but it was nice sometimes to pretend. Mogli scoffed.

"Like that makes any sense, you idiot," Mogli said, chuckling. Turning to face me, his laugh died. He studied me intently for a couple of seconds before putting his book down.

"What's going on?" He asked, and the bus rumbled over a hard patch on the road. A little kid wailed a couple of seats back, and I frowned. Kids and animals were always able to sense the supernatural better than regular humans, and lately, I had been hearing a lot of kids crying and dogs barking. Something was coming, I could feel it in my bones, and apparently so could Fido and little Timmy at the back of the bus.

"It's nothing," I said, staring pointedly at my feet. Mogli clicked his tongue in distaste.

"It most certainly isn't nothing if you're acting like this." Mogli pushed. "What's going on?" He said, pressing each word out of his mouth carefully. I considered not mentioning anything to him, but he knew me too well. Not to mention he could read my mind if he wanted to. When we were kids I was extremely jealous of his gift, and we fought constantly because of it. It was so cool, and my gift was just...not. But as we grew older I could see the toll knowing what others were thinking took on him, and now I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

"It's Milo," I said, letting out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Mogli turned to look at me, his eyes gazing at me kindly, urging me to go on. "He's been having nightmares every night since we got back. Half the time he doesn't even sleep because of them. He doesn't come out of his room except to train, and he's so thin, Mogli." I said, aware that I was rambling. I needed to say this before I exploded. "He's falling apart." I murmured. Mogli stared at me, his eyes wide before he pulled my hand into his and squeezed. It was so simple, but it meant the world to me.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice deepening in sympathy. Mogli was like a brother to me, and he almost never showed physical affection, it just wasn't something that he did. But when he did show affection, it could single-handedly make you feel a thousand times better.

I felt tears well in my eyes, and, squeezing them shut, I let them fall, watching as they dotted my jeans in small splotches. I hadn't cried in so long, it felt good to let it all out. Mogli took in a breath before speaking.

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