His tongue trails from the side of my chin to the corner of my mouth. I'm frozen on spot, barely breathing. When he pulls away, his eyes are the same shimmering silver I had seen the other night. My breathing spikes, and his eyes dart to my mouth. B...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
— 13 —
I wake with a start, staring at my surroundings with a bleary gaze. The streetlights outside my window peek through a slit in my dark curtains, highlighting the mess the kids made the other day—bright nail polish and powder cover-up is a pain-in-the-ass to clean up. The dim, digital numbers on my alarm clock are blinking a red 4:43am, but I could've sworn I heard my doorbell.
Ding-dong
Thought so.
With a groan, I throw my comforter off of me, trying to fight my way out of the sheets, and head out of my room. Too late I realize I'm not wearing pants, but they're not important—the long-sleeve shirt I'm wearing is more like a dress anyway.
Ding-dong
"I hear ya," I grumble, stifling another yawn.
There's a click as soon as my foot hits the bottom step and the door pushes open.
"Cupcake?"
I blink, tilting my head. "Nikki?"
Sure enough, Nikki is standing in the doorway, nothing on except a pair of old boxers and a beat-up grey shirt. Even her feet are bare, the glow-in-the-dark nail polish on her toes glowing a faint green. Her long hair has been thrown into a messy bun, and it's been so long since I've seen her without make-up, I'm almost surprised her eyes don't have a permanent black line around them.
"Thank God you're here!" she shouts, wrapping her arms around me.
I'm too tired to piece together everything and just stand there like an idiot as she squeezes me. "Uh...yeah. This is my house," I mumble, confused.
"That's not what I'm talking about." Her tone suggests that I'm the mental one. "That text you sent me freaked me out!"
"Text?" I repeat intelligently.
She groans, closing the door before she shoves her way past the living room and into the kitchen. "Cupcake, I love you, but you're like a zombie."
"Well excuse me for being undead at five o'clock in the morning," I grumble.
"Wow," she says, stopping. "Is it that late already?"
"What the hell have you been doing all day?" I wonder as she starts ransacking the fridge.
"Well, Whit and I talked to Bri, but the only thing she went on about were the murders. Did you know the MO for the dude is, like, blondes with blue eyes? How cliché is that?"
I chuckle. "At least she doesn't have anything to worry about it."
"Right? But, get this: she wanted Leon to escort her home around five in the morning because, and I quote, 'I'm naturally blonde, I've just been dying my hair since I was twelve'." She scoffs, pulling out my half-eaten container of fudge. "Even if that's the case, how can a thirty-something woman sacrifice a senior in college? Talk about selfish."
