Zero Zero

16. in the end?

the morning light beamed in through the slats and breaks. old cracked curtains. still filtered in, laying illuminated strips of sunshine across the twisted sheets. it felt so safe. and so beautiful. 

and in my hazy state, I let myself enjoy its subtle beauty. watched it rise over the hills and disappear in the folds of the cotton fabric. breathed in deeply the warm air that still had the lingering scent of roses and blood and sex. muted.

frank was quietly breathing behind me. face down, presumably, from the rustling of the pillow tags each time he exhaled. the sheets crunched as I slowly moved my arms out from under the covers. to move the vision obscuring hair which had fallen over my face.

to better see our tiny world of temporary safety. our own personal bliss. 

but as the moments since sleep grew, the buzz wore off. our paradise was temporary for a reason. I knew that. I needed to remember that. and I did.

and with my senses, the paranoia set back in. settled right back into place. 

those lovely little stripes of morning sunlight? dangerous. 

I forced my limp body out of the creaky bed and hurried to the window. 

if the sun could see us, they definitely could. and even though we looked different, they knew that. they'd fucking recognized us back at that bar. back when we thought we had lives to live out here. lives that were more than being on the run. more than watching our backs 24/7.

something we wanted. something more than our reality. 

and I did want that morning sun to settle into my skin. to let it gently warm me like a dry shower. but I knew better than to indulge myself.

I shut the blinds. savored the phantom of warm sunlight, suffocated by plastic panels. but it wasn't the same.

I knew. I had this feeling in my gut. I was running on borrowed time. 

maybe frank wasn't. he was a rose. beautiful and full of life, covered in thorns to protect. I wasn't.

I looked back at frank's sleeping frame, sprawled across the mattress. half over and half under the covers. 

I knew what I had to do. a twinge of guilt twisted the back of my throat. I didn't want to leave, but i was too dangerous. 

I was the fucking deathwish between us. and he would never ditch me. I would have to be the one to pull the plug. 

because I was on borrowed time and I had shit to get done before it all caught up to me. time was already nipping at my heels, threatening to bite my pant cuffs and drag me down and straight off that cliff. I had shit to do, people to save. 

people to try to save. 

frank was one of those people, in one way. in my leaving, I knew. he'd be okay. because it felt almost like deja vu. like we'd done this before. like I knew in leaving, frank would be safe. and it was fucking hard, and the worst of it was leaving the easy part.

there was no easy part in any of this. but mikey, saving him, that was a completely different creature. 

I hadn't seen him in years. didn't know if he was completely brainwashed by them. didn't know if he'd fucking kill me if he got the chance. or even worse bring me back. but my gut said no, that he wouldn't. that there was no way in hell. and today I needed to listen to instinct.

but it didn't matter. hope, for once, would be the cure for my worries. it'd have to be. because it was all I had. because I knew, that day, that frank was safer without me. for now. but I was near-certain my time would expire before it'd be safe to be together again.