The Murder Of Willowstream

Ch.17. The Beginning Of The End?

It was midday at Willowstream high and lunch break was in full swing. Everybody was in their own little social circles, idling chatting the time away through perfectly timed bites of their lunch. The grass was soft and comfortable, summer time being heralded by the burning intensity of the yellow sun, and the smell of cut grass.

Alaric leaned against the hard brick corner wall of the school, his eyes focused intently on two particular individuals across the way. Marshal and Mark who sat in their own love-drunk bubble.

Alaric had never seen Marshal smile so wide or so often. They sat facing one another, protected from the sun by the shade of one of the many large trees that were on school property. A brush of the arm, the stealthy caress of a hand because that miniscule skin contact, was enough ember to spark the fire anew, and keep them burning for a little longer. Their legs gradually became lightly entangled with one another at the ankles and calves, as they made unconscious movements to be as close as possible.

Young love. Alaric thought he was much too cold for such things. His heart was the frost crusted spikes, clutching on to a barren agony that none could reach with their songs. Yet here he was, wishing it wasn't so and that his bones would stop their lamenting for what they do not have.

Things had been quiet as of late. No one had been hurt or murdered in just over a week now, and while a few of the group had relaxed somewhat, it was not in Alaric's nature to become complacent so readily.

"Whatcha doooin?" The singing voice of Lily caught him by surprise, although he didn't show it. He had been so focused on Marshal that he hadn't heard her approach.

She smiled happily, standing on her tiptoes to cross her arms over his right shoulder, and then resting her chin upon them. Her breath tickled Alaric's neck, her happiness seemed to infect every particle she exhaled as they vibrated in their own dance against his skin, and he couldn't help but notice how invitingly sweet her scent was today. Like sun-baked skin and vanilla.

He looked to her out of the corner of his eye, proffering no answer but a smirk in her direction. Lily rolled her eyes, removing herself from Alaric's broad shoulders and following his line of sight. It took her a moment to sort through the sheer amount of individuals there were but reasoned soon enough that he must be watching Marshal and Mark beneath the tree.

"Alaric... Are you jealous?" She gawked knocking his arm with her fist, before scrambling to catch the bag which seemed to make a dive off of her shoulders and to the floor.

"No." His answer was unintentionally blunt, causing Lily to scrunch up her face in thought before breaking out in another grin.

"Me thinks he doth protest too much, maybe?"

"I am not jealous. I just have a feeling."

"Is that feeling jealousy?"

"No."

"Who's jealous?" Alice said announcing her arrival, it took her a lot quicker to catch on what they were looking at. But Alice had always been the remarkably observant type. Give her ten minutes alone in the room with you and she could read you like a book. Speaking of books; she held hers close to her chest. The smell of cut flowers and lavender did not go unnoticed by Alaric, who's preternatural sense of detail was often more of a burden than a privilege; as he spied that it was one of Yasmine's books she pressed to her heart. He hazarded a guess that she had taken it from Yasmine's bag as another keepsake, but wisely chose not to comment on the matter.

"Nobody—"

"Alaric is."

"I am not jealous. I told you I had a feel- a hunch."