The Eccedentesiast

Chapter Twenty-three

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Chapter Twenty-three
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"Don't do that!" Emma giggled. And despite how silent she was trying to be, she pushed him back into a corner of brooms and a bucket. His hand that had teased her through her jeans a second ago groped at his erection, fixing himself in his pants.

A smirk made its way to his lips, not faltering when his tongue peeked out to wet his lips—swollen from the feverish kisses he and Emma shared. "Don't worry about that right now," he said, noticing how she looked back at the door every other second, worried someone might come in. And as she looked back at him, flushed and breathless from his actions, he groaned. "God, you're gorgeous."

Emma chuckled lightly. "Uh-huh."

"And so adorable," he added, closing the distance between them once more.

"Yup." Her back arched at feeling his hands slide their way around her waist, bunching up the fabric of her gray hoodie.

"And I can't help but like everything about you." He buried his head where her neck met her shoulder. "I like you so much."

And it looked like he shit his pants because the next second he was staring at her with the widest of all eyes. His mouth moved, but he couldn't say anything that could take back what he so suddenly admitted.

And Emma froze. She pushed his head back down to her neck; preventing him from looking at her. As she smiled and inhaled his cologne-y scent.

"Thank you," she whispered. But it was agonizing for him to hear, even if she meant much more than she was willing to say—admit or express. But she wasn't lying. She was truly thankful, because maybe, just maybe, she wasn't so awful. And she was just another human being, who could steal someone's heart.

Tyler opened his mouth to say something, but she shut him up. Her mouth pressed against his, and her eyes closed with unshed tears.

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Debra walked into Emma's room, taking a look around before breathing in that lingering scent from the candle her daughter lit at night.

She walked over to Emma's bed, pushing off the many plushies and pillows she had taking up the bed.

Since it was Debra's day off, she decided she'd clean the house. She'd do laundry, go grocery shopping, and clean the bathrooms downstairs. She couldn't remember the last time Emma's washed her sheets, that was her only job; washing her sheets and cleaning her room. But she was forgetful.

Debra first pulled off the gray duvet, then lifted the mattress to pull off one corner of the comforter, she walked to the other side of the bed and started doing the same. But upon simply pulling at it without lifting the heavy mattress, something sharp hit her cheek when the sheet was released. She stepped back and hissed, bringing her hand to her face where it stings. And once she brought it back to see, her one finger had blood at the tip.

She stood confused, looked down at the floor, and started looking for what had sounded like metal. She went to her knees and started looking under the bed. Debra frowned when she had found nothing, her knees starting to ache. She turned her body and looked under the nightstand, staring at a small razor blade.

And as she tried not cutting to conclusions, she reached for it and held it in her grip. Not caring for the discomfort.

She stood up and sat on the bed. She stared at the thing, turning it in her hands repeatedly with nothing to say. Because there was blood everywhere, dried and old.