Her Knight In Rusty Armor

Chapter XXIV

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My Neighbourhood
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How many days had gone by since that little incident had occurred?

I didn't know. I had lost count.

Whenever I would even think of prying into the invisible glass dome Drake had built all around him, he would inch away, giving me not even as much as an ounce of an opportunity to talk to him. He was very keen on staying away from me, which frustrated me even more.

And because of him, all the energy inside me had leaked through my skin, pooling all around me like blood around a corpse. At least that rotting aura kept Kate and Nora away from me – or was that just me pushing my friends away?

I finally grew sick of trying to stitch back Drake and I's ripped-apart bond. Utterly sick.

And so, here I was, lifelessly sitting on the floor of my bedroom with my back resting against the wall by the windows, doing nothing but staring at the legs of the bed placed against the wall parallel to me.

It was a nice hobby, actually. Just me and the voices in my head staring at a carved log of wood.

A shuffling from nearby caught my attention; I looked towards the source of the noise – which was obviously Kate – who walked in through the door and came to a rest in front of me. She folded her arms over her chest, her sleek figure towering my limp one.

"Miller... You need to tell me what's going on. Stop acting like a corpse, for my sake." She huffed.

She did know how Drake and I hadn't been talking for days. I didn't enlighten her about the stupid details, though.

"What's going on?" I innocently asked her, pulling one of my legs towards me and resting my forearm on my knee. A sombre expression washed over her face, something close to pity, but not quite.

"Between you and Drake!" she burst, clearly exhausted. "Have you seen those bags under your eyes? You haven't properly slept in days! You think I never notice you almost dozing off during classes? Nora, Dawn and I are worried sick..."

Looking up at her, I gulped.

"Kate, things are complicated," I rasped, clearing my throat in embarrassment. "You won't get it."

"Then make me get it." She frowned, sitting down beside me and folding her legs under her torso. "Tell me what's on in your mind. I can handle rants, too. Anything for a friend."

Looking into her chocolatey irises, which were delicately splattered with specks of green, I felt a bubble of warmth erupt in my chest. And for the first time in a while, I felt a smile trace my lips.

"What would things be like if you weren't my friend, Kate?"

Raising her eyebrows at me, she reached for my hand, squeezing it gently.

"Cut it with the pessimistic stuff, okay?" she whispered. I eyed her hand holding mine. "Talk. Or maybe don't. I'll stay with you, if that's what makes you feel better."

I didn't mean the question in the way she had interpreted it, but I let it slide.

I nodded at her. The second choice seemed a lot better than the first.

"Listen," she said. "I don't know the circumstances of this argument of yours, but don't just keep your emotions locked up inside. They're probably beating your organs to a pulp, and no one would want that to happen to the Ashton Miller."

A small smile broke onto her lips, and I grinned at her, folding my legs underneath myself too.

"Yeah, I guess."