Poisoned Waters | ✓

|𝟏𝟖| "𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧"

   𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 winds gushed past outside the window, muffling the bed-rocks in Noah's bedroom. His tiring grunts and her exasperated moans were nothing short of noisy, also. It'd been another few days of him silently grieving, and he decided that he might as well fuck the depression away.

   Once he finally let go of her hips, Mariah collapsed forward in exhaustion. Noah landed on all fours above her, as he heaved for air also.

   "What's got you so pressed that you're wanting to break my cervix, bruh?" she huffed, turning onto her back and looking up at him. He kept his head down and she watched him intently. This was the rawest anyone could possibly see him, naked and exposed, and yet he was still able to shield any way for people to read him.

   "Well if you're not going to answer that, at least tell me you'll do that again." she grinned seductively. But it fell, as she felt something wet on her chest, she glanced down to the splashes of his tears.

   Mariah lightly gasped and just barely missed the chance to comfort him, he abruptly climbed off the bed. "Noah, are you okay?" He walked to the window and aggressively wiped the tears from his cheeks. She sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, Noah began to pick up his clothes.

   "Noah, please talk to me. I heard what... happened to Murphy, I know you two were close. You can talk to me, trust me, I'm here for you." she delicately spoke, she slowly approached him as he pulled on his turtle neck to conceal his body. She placed her hands on chest and he removed them.

   "I think you should go." he distantly replied. He picked up her clothes and moved to the door. He opened it and only turning his head in her direction, not wanting her to make eye contact.

   She stared at him in awe, "Noah, I—"

   "Please. Go." he reiterated firmly. She stood there for a moment, not knowing whether to feel embarrassed for herself or worried about him.

   She gradually moved to the door and took her things from his grasp, pausing, "It really wouldn't hurt to talk to me about it, Noah."

   "I highly doubt that." he replied flatly. As soon as she passed the threshold, he shut the door behind her, noting that the fourth time was definitely three times too many.

   Wiping his nose, Noah took a few deep breaths, as the bellowing wind temporarily silenced. The moment of peace calmed him down, and he walked to the bathroom to get freshened up.

•

   Monet swung with the gushing wind, practising each distinct killing move that she trained with David to do with her katanas. Monet had begged Angelo to give them back, they were too important to her. She was just glad she was somewhere that she felt comfortable in; Noah surely did succeed on making Everwinter feel like a home.

    She twisted the handles with her fingers, spinning them as they would slice through walkers, and even wondered how satisfying it would feel to decapitate her brother.

   Twenty days had passed since the switchover and she was conflicted, she wasn't sure whether she should defend her brother or not. He was only worried for her... but she knew that his obsessive protection over her had to be a delusion that he was trying to sell—not to mention that he got two people killed, and possibly just started a war.

She didn't even want to think about him and Mack conspiring with Angelo to get Noah killed.

   It just wasn't making any sense. She felt sick, embarrassed that Westley was her own flesh and blood, and it just gave her all the more motivation to kill him. Everyone definitely would've been in favour of it happening, after the destruction he had already caused.

   Noah thought it'd be a good idea to get some fresh air, maybe find a new distraction. He watched Monet train with her weapons from a distance, and he was surprised to see her skill. He was intrigued by her concentration, a small smile fluttered onto his lips.

   She practiced to speed up her reflexes, placing her dual blades on her back and retrieving them once more. Spinning the handle in her grasp, then slashing them at the imaginary adversary in front of her. She soon accidentally popped the roses from their stems in the bushes, in the community meadow.

   "Oh shit," she cursed, she looked over the mess of the pretty flowers and then caught sight of Noah watching her as he approached. She tried not to seem very startled and smiled, as she noticed his grin. "Who're you eyeing?"

   "You." he replied smugly.

   "You're just watching me, you creep?" she jokingly squinted. He tucked his hands into his pockets, feeling the wind picking up once again.

   "You looked cool, I can't lie, I was just enjoying the view." he answered. All Monet did was smile, after everything, it was nice to see him calm again. "But you've killed the roses."

   "Yeah, sorry about that." she lightly chuckled.

   Noah tapped his foot nervously, he wasn't entirely sure what to say now that Monet was safe and standing before him—his paranoia had already initially settled on her turning up dead. Although it'd been almost three weeks since she'd made it back alive and into his arms, he was struggling to believe it was real.

   "Are you okay, with everything...?" she eased. His frame looked broken, he wasn't the same, intimidating leader she'd met not too long ago. Bruises were still noticeable along his jaw, past his unkempt stubble. He was riddled with sorrow and looked like he was struggling to cope with it.

   Maybe it was best that Monet kept quiet about the conspiracies, he didn't look okay at all.

   "As good as I can get... with everything." he eventually answered, his voice breaking with his pause. He took a small step forward, hesitating to take her hand then deciding against it, "Are you?"

   "I can manage." she answered softly.

   "Well, I'm just glad you're safe. Je vous ai manqué." he sighed. I missed you.

   Monet smiled, "Noah, I have no idea what you just said,"

   "I know." Grinning at the sound of his name leaving her lips with coy exhale, he had relaxed.

   "Aight, tell me," she lifted both katanas up between them, "are you right or left-handed?" He simply raised his hand and she offered him the katana in her left hand. "I'll teach you some moves, since you find it so cool. It should cheer you up a little too."

   His smile grew as he took it and familiarised himself with the grips, feeling his thumb run along an engraving. He discreetly inspected it as Monet got into the basic stance, it read, "Dave+Mo"

   She turned back to him and smiled, "Come on, get into position." He obeyed, removing his trench coat and dropping it onto the grass. He matched her stance perfectly and she begun, "Alright, you have to move like the blade is an extension of your body, and your body as an extension of your eyes. That should determine how to move, so that you hurt your opponent and not yourself. So this is my easiest technique,"

   As Noah moved rhythmically in sync with Monet, swinging katanas, he felt like he'd finally found some peace amidst the gushing wind and the chaos that was brewing, and he was grateful for it.

|𝟏𝟖| 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:
Just wanted to say thank you for 1k reads, I'm glad y'all are enjoying and I appreciate those reading.
A lot of the next few chapters are going to be very heavy following Murphy's death, but big things are coming...

~𝐠𝐥𝐝𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬.