Abyss

Chapter 7

The words of the voice echoed in Sierra's head as she walked beside Mikah, completely zoned out. She stared at the ground, an unusual antic for the girl so interested in her surroundings. Golden sunlight set itself just atop the twisted trees that lined the horizon as she took the route to her home. The whole day had seemed to go by in a flash, and Sierra could hardly recall what had happened as it blended seamlessly in with too many previous work days.

"Hey, have you been listening to me at all?" Mikah must have realized how distant Sierra had been acting, and nudged her shoulder with an elbow lightly. The cherry-kissed girl slowly looked up from the trail she walked, and gazed into Mikah's soft, chocolate eyes before resting her eyes on the ground once more. She let out a small, unintentional sigh and brushed a few blushed strands of hair out of her face delicately.

"No, sorry. I'm not feeling like myself today." Sierra answered halfheartedly, only being partially honest with her longtime friend. He moved himself a little closer, putting a tan arm around the small girl's shoulders, which made her avert her eyes from where her feet traveled. Confused, she met Mikah's eyes again, and he lightly poked Sierra's nose with the index finger of his free hand, chuckling slightly as she instinctively pulled back into her scarf.

"No shit. You've been acting weird for the past couple of days now. It's starting to worry me. I know you won't tell me jack shit if I try to ask you about it, but be careful, alright? I don't want you in any kind of trouble." Mikah's tone was warm, almost joking, but the undertones were sincere, and it was hard for Sierra to interpret. She just raised an eyebrow at her best friend, puzzled.

"I'm fine, Mikah. I think I'm just sick or something. I need sleep." Sierra just shrugged, completely unlike her usually bubbly self. Mikah sighed, unable to come up with a response to the petite girl, and just let her out of his grip, moving a decent distance away from her again as they approached her little house.

The lean guy was beyond concerned for his friend, but he kept his mouth shut before he said anything more. He had about a million questions, but he also realized that sometimes it was best to leave Sierra alone with her troubles. Most of the time, that would keep her out of trouble, as it would make things pleasant enough for the rosy girl to live without creating her own "excitement". Little did he know, however, Sierra already had plans to break all kinds of rules this very night.

"Well, if that's what it takes to get you excited about the morning mist again, go ahead, sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, cherry." Mikah shook his own thoughts away for once, even if he was on the verge of pushing it further than it needed to go. There were some things that Sierra didn't know that Mikah felt it would be better off for her to remain oblivious to. The taller guy pushed his especially irritating couple of dreadlocks behind his ear again and put on a warm, comforting smile that the petite girl barely returned as she opened the door to her home.

"Yeah, thanks Mikah. I'll see how I feel in the morning." Sierra nervously shut the door behind her, and a timid hand slowly slid off the metal handle. She let out a huge sigh as she leaned up against the door, squeezing her sparkly green eyes shut.

I wish I could tell you what happened yesterday, Mikah, but you'll just ruin this for me. Even Lysander was cross with me when we came back... this needs to be my own little secret.

The rose-kissed girl couldn't hold back a bout of laughter at her thought, realizing she sounded just like the lost girls in myths and tales she'd read over a thousand times. Her laughter soon died down, however, when she realized she shared a rather similar, sheltered past. It was only natural for her to want to experience life away from the routine of a captive animal—wasn't it?

Mikah turned back towards Sierra's little house one more time as he approached the boardwalk, giving it a cautious glance. He sighed before walking away again, reaching up towards the back of his head to pull the tie carefully out of his long dreadlocks, letting them hang freely at each side of his sculpted jawline. The jet locks ended just above his shoulders, not having changed in style since his younger years. For a moment, he wondered if he should change it up, but ultimately decided against it again. It almost felt wrong for him to change it, like he would be cutting off a part of himself.