Junk Love.

seven.

Early morning begins with another round of urgent knocking rattling their door frame. They're tossed on the streets again. The fat chef yelps a frenzy of Italian slurs at them in the alleyway before chucking Carter's duffle-bag in the dirt.

"What happened?" Mel demands.

Outside, a thunderstorm still plagues the streets. He scrambles to pick up his belongings, spewing from the bag, before the clothes get wet and muddy.

"Nothing."

"That wasn't nothing Carter!"

"Fuck!" He shouts curses like a dose of venom. "Mel just leave it be."

Despite being drenched in rain, her hair hanging from under Carter's hat like a mess of noodles, she's fierce and regal. "I'll march my happy ass back in there and ask him myself!"

As stealthy as a jungle cat he's upon her. His dark hair drips with water droplets that land like transparent crystals upon his skin. There's a shadow of stubble on his jaw she almost can't resist scratching her nails through. She would repent to him in that moment and forget that he wasn't an angel to answer her prayers.

Mel doesn't anticipate him to treat her tenderly. Carter's intense almond eyes are numbing when he gently wraps his hand around the delicate flesh of her throat. Soft as a feather, he uses his grip to tilt her head up, biting her bottom lip.

"Leave it be," he commands.

Which is nearly impossible with the sensations he arouses. She'll render him as weak. Without any of the gentleness he displayed, she tangles her fingers in his hair and crashes her mouth to his. Rain seeps into their kiss, trickling between their lips and down their faces, like the spray from a shower-head.

"Make me."

They're both left breathless with flushed mouths.

"You've fucking got me." He replies, the sharp edges of his voice softening. Mel isn't sure how to interpret his words yet. All she knows for certain is he's fucking got her too.

☯

The walk back to the wooded clearing Mel calls home is tedious. At one point her camp was a public park, located in a bad neighborhood, so hardly anyone uses it. From the law, Mel has yet to encounter problems. From other street urchins, well, that's a different story.

As they walk through the haunted playground, past graffitied slides and swings hanging lopsided from twisted chains, Mel senses something off. When she ducks into her tent, secluded in a grove of towering oak trees, her stomach twists with dread. Her cookware is dumped in the fire pit. Her clothes, once neatly folded, are strewn everywhere. God-damn hood rats.

Desperate for a semblance of rest, she strips out of her saturated hoody and jeans. Shivering to the point of teeth chattering, she curls up under the sleeping bag, wearing only her bra and panties.

"Are you gonna just stand out there in the rain?"

Carter is almost supernaturally tall. His shoulders are broad and muscular. Him standing outside the tent resembles a giant looming over a fairy house.

"I'm waiting for you to invite me in."

So, chivalry isn't dead. Mel flips over the other side of the sleeping bag, sacrificing vital heat to invite him in. Carter strips quickly then tucks in beside her. Half naked, they snuggle in the tent with the tap tap tapping of rain bouncing off the canvas over their heads.

Sheets of paper dangle above them from strands of red string. Each display is a random assortment of bark, leaves, and stones glued to the page. Art made from the nature around her. It's the most at home Carter's felt in a long time.

Nestled against her, absorbing the heat of Mel's body, he massages his fingers through her vibrant purple hair. She has a scar the shape of a crescent, barely noticeable, on her forehead, at the line of her scalp. Her body, in its entirety, is a spell to him.

"How did you get here Carter?" Her delicate voice is muffled with sleep.

"Because you're my girl."

She arches her spine to tuck herself closer to him. "I meant before me."

His muscles tense like steel coils. "I was a musician. My mom was a skank but she was well off so I was basically just this privileged junkie kid. My demo flopped. All I had to show for it was that car."

Carter could have kept running his fingers through her hair but Mel stops him by tangling her fingers with his, squeezing his hand. "I believe in you."

"You'd be the first."

"I won't be the last."

It's evident her speech is fading. After she yawns wide, like a lioness, she slips into a deeper sleep. Before long, Carter's arm goes numb underneath her and his hand gets clammy from her gripping it like a life perserver. But he doesn't dare stir until he slips under too.

☯