adventure of a lifetime [ bxb : advanced : pafp ]

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    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]His response to me getting the bear made me smile. It meant the world to me, getting to make him smile like that. I loved it when he got excited over little things like that, and I wondered if that was his personality, or just the blindness. If he were able to see, would he have been as joyous over getting a simple stuffed bear from a claw machine? I hoped that I would get to find out. I hoped he was always like this. One of my favorite things about him was his smile when he got excited over something.


    After a few more minutes, we almost had more tickets than I could carry. I let him pick out our prizes, since I would be content with whatever he chose. The woman behind the counter handed us two colorful boas, and I laughed as Oliver draped one around my neck. We also got Ring Pops, and by the time we walked away, we might as well have been two of the many neon signs the were around the city. I had known it would be a good idea to go to the arcade. With everything that had happened earlier, we both needed to have some fun.


    I'd temporarily forgotten about the fact that we could both be in serious danger. I couldn't help but stare at him for a minute, thinking to myself. Whatever decision I made would affect him if he decided to stay with me. It was really just a matter of who tried to kill him depending on which side I chose. I sighed. It was my fault. He had never chosen to be a part of this. The only way he would be safe was if he left me when he got his sight back, and even then, there was no promise that they wouldn't still go after him. It would still hurt me.


    When he mentioned the picture, I brightened up, pulling out my phone. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered how he would feel when he saw the pictures. When he saw that all of the amazing dates that he had been on over the past four months were with someone he had been terrified of. At least I'd have them, so I'd be able to remember how amazing it was to be with him. Well, I'd have them for the time between when he turned me in and when the police found me. So I held my phone up and smiled, holding him close as I took the picture.


    I looked at the picture for a minute to make sure that it wasn't blurry or anything before I put my phone away. "Now we have," I said cheerfully. "Just think about it. In two more weeks, you'll finally get to see all of them." I thought back, thinking about all of the pictures I had taken. When I thought about it, it seemed like there weren't enough. Of course, it was hard to keep track of four months of dates, and just general being together, but I could tell that something was wrong. When I figured out what it was, my heart sank. "Oh no, I didn't take one at the Empire State Building!" I said, my tone full of dread. If any one of our dates should have been photographed, that was the one, and it was the one date I didn't have a picture for. I shook my head, sighing. "I'm so sorry..."

    [justify]I saw the blurry flash of the camera, which made me hug onto him tighter with excitement. Every time I got a hint of normality in my blind world it made me more than a little eager to have my life back. Not an hour went by where I didn't think of it. Then, Cic and I would spend an entire day looking at all of the pictures from our dates. I even wanted to get them printed.




    Even though I was still a little bummed out that we didn't photograph one of the best dates, I got over it. That was a date that I definitely didn't need picture evidence to remember. It was probably one of the most memorable days of my life. As soon as I had gotten over it, I noticed he seemed a bit upset. When he said how badly he felt, I turned to him and smiled, kissing his cheek. "Babe, don't worry about it," I assured him, giving him a comforting smile. "I'll always remember that night, picture or not. Plus, that just means that we have to go see another sunset right?"




    As much fun as I was having, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were still in danger. And it's not like it was something manageable like my rent was up or my car was broken into. It was something far more serious. Someone dangerous was out and about in my neighborhood, looking for Sasha. And even though it may only be about gambling money, I knew what people were capable of doing.




    I just hoped Cicero would stay closer by. I hated to seem so clingy, but now more than ever I wanted him to stay over more often. You never know what someone could do, especially when it came to criminals.




    'Looking' up at him I asked, "Should we go check on Sasha? I mean, only if you want to. I don't know how he's handling his injury, and I'm sure he has someone watching him, but I can't help but worry about him." Part of the reason why I wanted to go see him was to check if he was still alive. The other part was just another excuse to stay the hell out of my neighborhood for as long as we could.




    //sorry I took so long!! just traveling a lot rn :/[/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]It was a relief to hear Oliver say that he wasn't too upset that I hadn't taken a picture at the Empire State Building. There wasn't anything that upset me more than the idea that he might be disappointed. Still, I fully intended to take him somewhere better, and, whether he was still blind or not, I would take a picture for us to remember it by. "Right. And it'll be even better and more memorable," I assured him, smiling. That was all I could hope for. That maybe I would get to take him somewhere better than the Empire State Building. Maybe I could actually make good on my offer to take him to the Eiffel Tower.


    When he suggested going to check on Sasha, I frowned. Truthfully, Sasha probably did need checked on. Even if nobody had decided to come after him, chances were that Alonso was getting tired. That was, if he hadn't already decided to leave. The sudden idea that Sasha was alone scared me more. Yes, we did need to go check up on him.


    "Yeah, we should," I replied. I wasn't really eager to stay around in one place for too long either. There was no telling what this stalker was up to aside from going after Sasha. If he was commiting more murders, which he probably was, and things started to get out of hand, there would be heightened security all over town. That meant danger for me. If I had to go down, I would prefer for it to be in two weeks, when I wouldn't have anything to live for either way. Things were starting to go downhill, and hopefully, the situation would be under control soon. I just hoped that Scythe was on tracking down this psycho so we could all get back to our normal lives.


    Walking to Scythe's house would have taken forever, so instead I simply called a cab. It wasn't ideal. I didn't trust strangers driving, even more so after the wreck. Which, when I thought about it more, got more interesting. It had been a hit and run. They had specifically rammed into the back of my car, which was where Sasha hid on the floorboards. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I was starting to worry that maybe, just maybe, this had something with the man who was after Sasha.


    I hadn't noticed it, but I was holding on the Oliver's hand tightly the entire ride to Scythe's house. I didn't let go until we got out, and I stared at the door. It didn't seem like anyone was there. The lights were off, and I knew that Alonso was nyctophobic, so that raised a lot of questions. I took Oliver's hand again, pulling it up to my lips. "I love you," I muttered as we headed towards the door to Scythe's house, hoping that it wasn't the last time I spoke those words.


    //it's perfectly fine
    like I said, whenever you're ready we can do a timeskip to any point you want to
    although right now I was kind of thinking that they go into Scythe's house and find out that Alonso was working with the enemy so Sasha had to kill him
    because it would be so funny to have Cic and Sasha trying to deal with a dead body with Oliver around

    [justify]//omg yes that sounds great.




    I held onto his hand as he pulled me into a cab, and I rested my head on his shoulder as we sat in the back seat. I was glad he had agreed to see Sasha. I'm sure he still had a while before he was fully recovered, and I knew how it felt to not be able to do anything. When you're in a situation like that, visitors made a world of a difference.




    Of course I also wanted to stop by to see if he was still alive. The thought was extremely morbid, but equally as valid. I hadn't realized how messed up this whole situation was until we got out of the cab, and I started to feel sick to my stomach. Someone wanted to kill someone I knew. Not just track them down to get in a fight over money. The severity of it all was just starting to hit me as Cic lead the way to Scythe's house.




    He squeezed my hand then kissed it, telling me he loved me. "I love you more." I looked at him with nervous eyes, feeling a knot in my throat. Maybe this wasn't such a good decision, but it was too late to turn back as we walked up the front steps. I tripped. It seemed like I was more klutzy the more nervous I was. Grabbing onto his arm, I was able to catch myself as we advanced forward. When the door opened, I felt instant relief. He was alive.




    I smiled, pleased to see he was still in one piece. "Hey Sasha. How are you feeling?" I asked, letting out a soft sigh of relief. I caught myself staring at him, only because his vibrant colored hair captured my complete attention. It was the brightest hair I had seen in months, and I felt myself gravitating towards him. I almost wanted to ask to touch it, but I'm not sure how that would go over.




    I'm sure he knew he was in danger, but I didn't want to bring it up. I didn't know how much he knew, anyway. I couldn't help but notice how weird the atmosphere felt in here. It felt almost eerie. I shook off the feeling as I took a seat in a chair, feeling slightly dizzy from being so nervous. "Cic and I just wanted to stop by to see how you were recovering. If you couldn't tell we were a bit nervous."[/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]The instant Sasha opened the door, I knew that something was off. I often got the feeling when we passed an area where a crime had obviously been commited. Well, it was obvious to me. Sasha had told me a million different ways to notice crime scenes. More importantly than any of that, the general vibe that Sasha was giving off gave it away. The first time we had met each other was right after he had killed someone, and he looked exactly like he had then, mixed with supressed anger. And that anger made me sure of who he had killed.


    I couldn't say that I was too shocked to find out that Alonso was a traitor. His death didn't bother me too much. I hated to be so cold, but he always had seemed so pretentious. Not to mention fake. He acted like a cold-blood, but he was hardly even a normal. He was cowardly, and I was almost sure that his betrayal came from his fear that Sasha couldn't protect him anymore.


    I watched as Oliver took a seat, and I stood next to him, waiting for Sasha's answer. "I'm fine. Those painkillers are working really well. Can't feel a thing. Haven't been on anything this strong since high school." I rolled my eyes, seeing as I was sure that he was lying. He shot a glare at me, and I looked away.


    When I did, I noticed it. Fortunately, it was out of Oliver's line of sight, and hopefully if he did see it, he would just think that it was the color of the walls. There was a door slightly opened in the kitchen - behind Ollie's chair - where I could see bright red on the walls. "I'm gonna go get a drink," I lied, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge as I used my foot to open the door wider.


    It definitely wasn't a pretty sight, but it was typlical Sasha. From the looks of it, he had used one of Scythe's axes. Alonso was on the floor, shirtless, with a giant skater 'S' carved into his chest. His stomach was slashed open, far worse than Sasha's had been, but apparently that wasn't what had killed him, because the axe that Sasha had used was buried deeply into his skull. Again, I felt no remorse. If this was what happened to people who commited treason, then so be it. They made the choice, so they could pay the consequences of turning their backs on a serial killer.


    "Are you okay in there, Cic?" I heard Sasha call for me, and I looked away from the scene. The blood was making me feel weird, and it took a minute to answer. "Yeah. Scythe's just got a lot of rum in here, I couldn't find any glasses," I called back, hoping that he understood what I meant by the rum comment. I grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper and made my way back into the living room, leaning against the arm rest of Oliver's chair.


    He gave me a somewhat sadistic grin, and I knew that he was aware of what I had seen. "Hey, Cic, wanna help me with something?" he asked, a bit too cheerfully. He was always happier when there was a freshly murdered corpse nearby. I shook my head slightly. There were a million reasons why I would rather leave Alonso where he was, but the main one was because moving a dead body with Oliver there would be more than just a little dangerous. "No, you should just take it easy."


    "Oh, that's great, then you can just do it for me."


    Fuck...

    [justify]My anxiety subsided as soon as Sasha told me he was alright and that the painkillers were working. I knew there was nothing worse than still being in pain even though you were on medication already. It sucked. I was just glad he was taking it easy, and that we were here to help if he needed.




    My eyes curiously scanned over the room, admiring the colors. I half-listened to their conversations, mainly too distracted by a colorful picture or staring out at the blurry clouds outside the window. Due to my heightened senses, I felt like I could faintly smell blood. I of course shoved this thought off, because it would be extremely rude to ask why a house smelled like blood. It probably was Sasha's fresh bandages anyway.




    I heard Sasha asked Cicero for help, which caught my attention. Even if I knew I wasn't able to do something, I always asked if I could help. It made me feel useful. Standing, I smiled and offered, "Cic and I can help you out. What do you need?" I didn't want him moving around too much, since the stitches were still fairly fresh and movement would delay recovery.




    Turning around, I noticed Cic leaning on my chair and I smiled, moving past him. Facing the kitchen now, I took a few steps forward as I noticed something. I squinted to get a better look, then walked into the kitchen to get a better look. I had complete tunnel vision, so all of my focus and sight went to this. The view from the kitchen window was the best I had seen since Cicero and I had been at the top of the Empire State Building.




    "Oh my God." I gasped loudly, admiring the view. I paused for a while, taking the scenery in. The green of the trees seemed so vibrant and the sky was an amazing shade of blue. "The view from this window is amazing! Cic, come see!" I realized that I was distracting everyone from helping Sasha out, but I still was getting used to the whole seeing colors thing. Plus, it really was an amazing view. [/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]The main reason I had been so worried when Sasha had asked for help was because I knew that Oliver wouldn't let me say no. What was worse was when he offered to help. At this, Sasha went pale. I assumed at first that it was for the same reason I was worried; if he saw it, it wouldn't be hard for Oliver to figure out that what was in the room was a dead body. Then again, I couldn't really be sure, since Sasha didn't worry about the same things that normal humans worried about. He might just be afraid that Oliver would knock something important over. I wasn't sure how much he cared about not getting caught.


    When Oliver walked into the kitchen, my eyes widened, and I looked over my shoulder. I heard him gasp, and for a moment I couldn't breath. However, when he continued speaking, I sighed in relief. Though he was dangerously close to Alonso's body, he hadn't noticed yet. I didn't want to drag him away from the scene he was so excited about. Not immediately, anyway. I hadn't seen him so excited about anything since the Empire State Building.


    So I pulled out my phone and stood next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. "Smile," I said, giving him a second to look at the camera before I took the picture. The window was in the background, so that we would at least have one memory of him being excited over a nice view. "There. If we can't have a picture from the Empire State Building, we can still have this. It'll look even better when you can see clearly."


    I pulled him back into the living room, wanting to keep him away from the corpse. It was clear that Sasha wasn't happy with me, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, his attention was on Oliver. "Oh, don't worry about it. Cicero can handle it on his own. Just sit here for a minute while I tell Cic what needs done, then we can talk. I like telling people stories, and with Scythe, well... when he is home, we don't get in too much talking." With that, he walked over to me, grabbing my arm and pulling me over to the room. The smell of blood hit me once more, and I breathed in deeply, somewhat intoxicated by the scent. Sasha seemed to notice this, and he rolled his eyes.


    "Hey, I don't care what you do with yourself while you're in here, but you're the one cleaning it up," he scoffed, before motioning to a room towards the back. "There's a high fence back there. It leads to a garage, and there's a door on the floor in the back corner. Throw his body into that room. Scythe'll take care of the rest later."


    It hardly fazed me that Scythe had a room where he could so easily hide bodies when he needed to. I was going to ask how I could move the body without getting blood on the grass, but before I could, Sasha walked away, I frowned, sighing before I grabbed Alonso's arm and started pulling him towards the door.


    When I opened it, I saw that there was a red brick pathway to the garage, which was good. I muttered to myself as I walked, not too happy about the situation that I was in. I knew that he didn't want Oliver to know, and I didn't either, but we didn't have to move his body yet. We could have just kept the door shut, but nooo. I had to throw the bastard's body down in a basement. It wasn't exactly fun.


    I got it over with as quickly and carefully as I could, glad that I hadn't gotten any blood on my clothes. There was a roll of paper towels in the garage - I couldn't imagine what for - so I wiped my hands off, tossing the paper towel on the floor as I walked back, eager to get to Oliver before Sasha could scare him too badly.


    "... ever heard of Dan Pizarro? Great guy. Glad that we didn't go out to eat when I met him though. I hate to be rude, so if we had, I wouldn't have been able to eat any meat. It would have felt disrespectful." Sasha was sitting there, rambling on avidly about meeting animators or comic artists. He only did that when he was... oh. It took me a second to notice that he was holding a can of Coke, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that it was mostly vodka. I walked over to him and grabbed it, not listening to his protests. "You're on painkillers, you don't need alcohol," I said, dumping it into the sink. He was a dumbass.

    [justify]While I was gazing up at the clouds, I felt an arm wrap around me. Smiling, I turned to face Cicero when I noticed he was holding his phone up for a picture. I widened my smile, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He was right, now we'd have a photograph as a memory to show how unbelievably excited I got over clouds.




    He brought me back into the living room and sat me down with Sasha. I offered to help again, but Sasha intervened and told me that Cicero was perfectly capable of doing the task by himself. Although I felt sort of bummed out, I understood. It was probably something too dangerous for me anyway, like pouring Sasha a drink. It sounded simple, but since it involved glass and liquids I would probably spill, I still wasn't fit for a task like that just yet.




    So I sat with Sasha in the living room while Cic disappeared, listening to his never-ending stories. He was actually pretty interesting, although after a while I was pretty sure that he wasn't just drinking soda. Regardless I listened to him, faintly wondering where Cicero had gone off to. I listened closely and didn't hear him in the kitchen, so God only knows where he had wandered off to.




    When Cicero returned, he was quick to take the can of whatever out of Sasha's grasp. Sasha protested, but I definitely thought it was best to not mix painkillers and alcohol. Not a good combination. I kept staring at Sasha's hair, and hoped I didn't weird him out, but it was just so vibrant. As I admired it, my mind flashed back to earlier today when the man showed me a picture of him.




    I had to bring it up. I knew that it probably wasn't really my business, but I cared about his wellbeing. "So did anyone stop by today?" I asked, tilting my head slightly as I noticed Cicero return. "I know it's probably a touchy subject, but I just hope everything's okay. Cic told me some guy was looking for you to try to get some gambling money back. He stopped by my place looking for you. I was thinking maybe he'd show up here next." As I told him, I couldn't help but get the chills. The mystery man had been so aggressive this morning when he came around for a second time. Thankfully Cicero was around, or else I don't know what I would've done to defend myself.[/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]As odd of a thought as it was for someone who had just thrown a dead body into a basement, I couldn't help but hope that Oliver wasn't too upset with Sasha and me for not letting him help. I knew that it meant the world to him when he was able to prove that he could be productive, and I hated taking that away from him. Really, though, my main concern was keeping our relationship together for the last few days we had it. Aside from that, I assumed that Sasha would still enjoy being ghis friend once I was locked up, and it would have been quite obvious that Sasha had done the murdering. So, for the sake of everyone's relationships, platonic and romantic, I'd done it myself.


    I'd been halfway done with dumping out the vodka coke when I heard Oliver start talking, and I froze, stopping myself. If there was anything that I hadn't wanted Oliver to say I had said about Sasha, it was that. Most hings, he took as a compliment, but I doubted that he'd like that. He was very responsible with his money. That wasn't completely true, but he knew better than to get into personal trouble with money. He'd never let himself get into debt of any sort. That led to police officers or government officials, and he wasn't interested in having anyone go digging around in his history. I knew it well, and it would be bad if they did.


    Shockingly, he didn't seem too mad. I walked bac into the living room, and he looked up at me, clearly interested. I gave a small shrug, hoping that this would keep him complacent. It did. "Not a touchy subject at all. Nobody's come around yet. If they do, they'll be the next one needing painkillers," he muttered, smirking. I chuckled at the comment. I knew that he would kill whoever had been turning everyone against him, but the thought that he might do something else was funny. I'd seen Sasha fight before, with and without weapons. Hell, I had fought him before, and he was not someone to go easy against anyone, whether the fight was real or not. If he did fight anyone, they definitely were going to need those painkillers in the end.


    It felt odd, to be sitting in Scythe's house, simply watching T.V. without anything else going on. The only times I had ever been there in the past, there were much more interesting things going on. More often than not, it involved Scythe showing off his skills with his axes, or Harrison doing magic tricks. However, Sasha's commentary on the show made things a bit more interesting. Mainly because he could turn most things into sex jokes. However, I was fine with just sitting there with Oliver, enjoying his company.


    A few minutes later, I heard the door open. Sasha jumped up, which promptly led to him falling over, and I heard Scythe call out, "Don't panic, babe, it's just me." I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sasha curiously. Though I knew that they were close, I had never heard Scythe call him 'babe,' or any other pet names. The thought that they might have finally given up on their anti-monogamy campaign and settled down with each other crossed my mind for a moment, but the thought wasn't there for long. There was no way in hell that Sasha would give up his freedom to fuck whomever he pleased.


    When I watched Scythe walk into the room, I had to force myself not to tense up. His shirt was covered in blood, which was not great. I knew that Oliver could only see colors, but he had an amazing sense of smell, and if he realized that he could smell blood, that would be bad.


    Scythe seemed just as shocked to see me as I was to see him. Or maybe he was more shocked to see Oliver, an innocent, sitting in his living room. His gaze shifted momentarily to the door of the room where Alonso had been, and I assumed that Sasha had texted him about the situation. After a moment, he calmed down, smiling. "Hey Cicero. Haven't seen you in a while. And you... you must be Oliver. Scythe Solomon. Pleasure to meet you."

    [justify]I was actually starting to feel less stressed as we all sat around and watched TV. The thoughts of the loose killer momentarily left my mind as I rest my head on Cicero's shoulder and stared blankly at the television. All of the colors seemed to keep my mind off of things. The only thought that remained persistent was thinking of the day I could see again. The closer the day got, the slower time went.




    As I thought about my sight, I completely spaced out. I was caught up in thinking about dates again and traveling with him. Even though I would be more independent I didn't want to be. I still wanted him to be by my side at all times. And as I thought about it, I realized how clingy I actually was. I almost started to feel bad, but then I thought he back to the morning where Cic practically busted down my door to see if I was okay. I smiled to myself at this, wrapping my arms around him as we sat on the couch.




    Suddenly the door opened, and I was immediately hit with the overwhelming scent of blood. I immediately tensed up. My first thought was that it was the killer here for Sasha. Sasha must've thought that, too, since I heard him stumble and fall over. I heard a voice I wasn't familiar with, making me sit up in surprise. However when he told Sasha to calm down, I calmed down. No killer would soothe someone like that.




    I started to piece together that it was Scythe as soon as he introduced himself. I hadn't seen him, and I was starting to become dizzy from the strong scent of blood. It reminded me that I had noticed the scent in the house earlier, but decided not to say anything. But now that I was sure of it, I was just as confused at the fact that no one else said anything.




    Smiling, I turned to him and introduced myself. "It's nice to meet you, too," I greeted, finally looking at him. Immediately, my eyes grew wide. Was that blood? I was on my feet in an instant, my mind instantly thinking he had been stabbed like Sasha. "Oh my God, are you okay?!" I asked worriedly, my large eyes focused on the crimson color of blood that stained his shirt. All thoughts of the killer had returned. There were now two victims, and my heart raced as I thought about Cic or I being next.[/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]As I had feared, it didn't take very long for Oliver to recognize the scent of blood. For a split second, all I could think was, "This is it. We're finally done. He's going to find out and I'm going to lose him." However, I quickly managed to push this thought aside. It wasn't like Scythe couldn't come up with some sort of lie about what had happened. After all, he'd been slaughtering threats to Sasha and anyone else he wanted to protect for years. It wasn't like he wasn't used to having to lie about what he was doing, or what he had done.


    Sure enough, he didn't seem very shocked, and he gave a short laugh at Oliver's shocked statement. "I'm fine, don't worry about me," he said, quite calmly for someone whom I knew to be an axe murderer. It was even more awkward, seeing as he was covered in blood. At least it wasn't his blood. We definitely didn't need someone else on our side getting stabbed. We were all in danger, and Scythe was our best source of protection, seeing as Sasha wasn't able to do any killing at the time.


    "Yeah, I um... this is dumb. I dropped by a blood drive on the way back. There was a fuck up, and, long story short, I got drenched in my own blood," he explained, laughing. Now, there was an interesting lie. I didn't know how someone could mess up so terribly that they ended up spilling someone's blood all over them. Then again, I had seen some pretty bad failures in my life. I watched as Scythe pulled the shirt off, tossing it in a corner. It wasn't like there weren't already an excessive amount of blood stains all over his house without that, but most of them weren't out in the open like that.


    Speaking of which, I was really starting to be uncomfortable with having Oliver in such a dangerous place. There were so many things that could go wrong with keeping him there. Obviously, the main problem was the fact that the strange killer who was after Sasha knew that Sasha was there, and I didn't doubt for one second that if he did show up, he would kill anyone who got in his way. It would only be worse if the people who betrayed Sasha decided to come along. And although I doubted that anything like that would happen, after I had been given a two week warning, I was worried.


    I stood up, looking over at Oliver. I couldn't let it show that I was nervous. I didn't want him to think that I was going to panic again, because that always ended up being a giant mess. "Hey, babe, do you want to go home now? It's getting kind of late." It really wasn't, but I was hoping that he would take it as me wanting to spend time alone with him. Then it wouldn't sound like I was being paranoid; instead, it would just be me trying to be romantic.

    [justify]When Scythe told me his response I immediately relaxed. My thoughts had obviously gone to the worst places possible, and I thought he had been the next victim in this whole murderer mess. And when I thought about it all, it really started to freak me out. Someone was looking to kill the people I was associated with. It seemed as if whenever I branched out and began to get close to them, such as James, they were taken out of my life. This only urged me to be even more clingy with Cicero.




    "Oh, that's good. I mean... It's not good that that happened but it's good that you're okay and you weren't, you know..." I trailed off, not being able to bring myself to flat out say that he could have been stabbed. All of it was just starting to sink in for me. And the more I thought about it, the more anxious I got. Paranoid, even.




    Cicero suggested that we leave, and it really seemed like he wanted us to get out of Scythe's place. I was okay with that, since the scent of blood was still lingering and giving me a headache. Taking his hand, I said goodbye to the others as we stepped out, taking in a deep fresh of breath air. It was mostly for the sake of getting rid of the blood smell, but also to try to calm myself down. I didn't realize how tense I was until I felt my shoulders relax. How did I end up in this mess?




    Either I senses Cicero's uncomfortableness or I just wanted to stop letting my mind wander, but I turned to him and placed my hand on his arm gently. "Is everything okay, Cic?" I asked softly. I could tell something was up, but I couldn't tell if his mind was still on the killer like mine was. Plus, I found it odd that he had been so anxious to see Sasha then all of a sudden wanted to leave. Maybe it was simply due to Scythe being home and having someone there to watch him.




    I started to rub his back comfortingly, gazing at him with a concerned expression. He really was starting to worry me. I was rather glad that we were going back to my place, because I was going to try to get him to rest some more. I didn't need eyes to tell that he was exhausted. Leaving over to kiss his cheek, I started walking again as I let him lead me to the car. "You just seem tense." I laughed a bit as I added, "More tense than I am, even. Why don't we go home and you rest a little more?""[/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
    [hr]
    [hr][/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]I was glad that Oliver didn't question Scythe's story. It wasn't like it was something that happened often. Or, maybe it was. I never really went to blood drives. I didn't have a lot of self-control around blood, and aside from that, people with needles felt like a serious threat. I doubted that I would kill someone over it, but I definitely wouldn't respond well. Fortunately, he didn't say anything about it.


    It was clear that he was worried about me again. Truth be told, I wasn't as worried as I had been earlier. There wasn't any reason for me to be scared. We had two weeks, unless the stranger was lying, until he tried to do something. Even then, after the two weeks, I had no idea what he was going to do. Maybe he was just bluffing, to try and scare me into being on his side. After I had calmed down, I felt a lot better -- even though I was still tired.


    "Everything's fine," I said quietly, yawning as I said this. The only problem that I had was the fact that a combination of having walked so much and Oliver rubbing my back made it fairly hard to stay awake. Aside from that, I was content, to say the very least. "I'm not tense. I just... you're right. I need to go to sleep." It only occured to me then that I hadn't really slept much all day. I'd woken up at two, and the only sleep I'd gotten since then was the nap before the stranger had shown up again. I was starting to think that most of my paranoia had been from a lack of sleep, Hopefully, once I woke up again the next morning, everything would be better.


    The walk back to his house almost killed me, but I managed to make it. I was practically asleep by the time we stepped through the doorway. I wanted to just fall over and go to sleep right there, but it wasn't an option. However, I refrained from doing this, and instead held on to Ollie's head as I led him towards his room.


    Oddly enough, when I finally got to Ollie's bed, I didn't immediately fall asleep as I had expected to. I kicked my shoes off, yawning as I laid down. Smiling to myself, I grabbed Oliver's waist and pulled him into the bed with me. I held him close, kissing his cheek as I muttered, "Y'know, aside from me having to leave early in the morning, and a possible murderer showing up... I wouldn't mind spending every day like this." It was only a few seconds later when I fell asleep.

    [justify]I was so extremely relieved that he had finally agreed to rest. It was obvious that he needed it, since I noticed his grogginess ever since he came home. I didn't want to point out that he had bags, but it made me worried to see him so close to the brink of exhaustion. He lead me back to my place, where he got himself settled and pulled me down with him.




    Sighing out of happiness and exhaustion, I stayed awake for a while as I watched him sleep. I had made him keep the lights off in the bedroom so he could sleep better, so it meant that I couldn't see much. But since I was laying so still I watched his outline rise and fall slightly as he breathed. His deep breathing began to lull me off to sleep, too, and I joined him.




    I think I only shut my eyes for ten minutes. For some reason I couldn't sleep, and it was probably because I was still so paranoid. Laying there for a while with him, I toyed with his hair as he slept, barely being able to see the blond color through the dim lighting. It was times like these that reminded me how much being blind sucked. All I wanted was to see his face right now, and to study his features as he slept. Maybe his lips would occasionally twitch. Maybe his brow would furrow due to a bad dream. Maybe his eyes would slowly roll back and forth beneath his eyelids. I wouldn't know.




    After a while, I couldn't help but feel useless. I typically was the one to overthink things, and while left in complete silence my mind always wandered. It usually wandered into the subject of my disability, and seriously discouraged me. I wanted to show him I was useful. I wanted to prove to him that I could do more than follow him around and run into things. So I waited for him to roll over, and once I was out of his grasp I got to my feet and gingerly made my way into the kitchen.




    I wanted to do what he had done for me. Since he had made me breakfast earlier that day, I wanted to return the favor and make him something. Something challenging. Something that when he woke up he would see me smiling with a plate and go 'Wow, babe. You did all that by yourself?' And I would be all proud of myself and go 'Yep. All for you.' Digging around in the cupboards for a while and trying to feel out food, my hands grabbed a box of pasta. Okay, it wasn't the most impressive thing but it was definitely a start. I rummaged around a bit more until I felt out a jar of what I assumed was tomato sauce (determined by the color) and a bowl. Pasta was pretty basic, but it would show that I was progressing to say the least.




    Thank God the jar of tomato sauce was already opened, or else I would've been totally screwed. I decided to use the microwave instead of the oven just so I didn't kill myself. I had to make do with putting the uncooked pasta in a bowl with some water and boil it in the microwave. I put the tomato sauce on after a few minutes of cooking the pasta so it would warm up. The consistency of the sauce seemed strange to me, but I thought maybe it was because I hadn't seen it in such a long time.




    A few more minutes passed until the pasta was pretty much done to the best of my ability. The water had boiled out, and the sauce was bubbling so I knew it was definitely hot enough for whenever he woke up. I shakily took the bowl out of the microwave, instantly burning myself. Out of instinct, I dropped the bowl. In this same split second, it also occurred to me that the 'sauce' I had put on was strawberry jelly. And it was borderline boiling. The bowl shattered on impact, sending hot pasta and jelly all over the entirety of my kitchen and on me. Shards of the bowl scraped against my legs, giving me small cuts that soon became bloody. My only reaction was just to stand there, appalled and frustrated, and to pray that I hadn't just woken him up. Again. [/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
    [hr]
    [hr][/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]As tired as I had been, it was hard for me to be asleep. However, the real problem was the fact that I couldn't wake myself up. All I could dream about was losing Oliver, which was awful. Knowing that I was going to lose him soon made it all worse. I just hoped that I would wake up soon to find that he was still in bed with me. As long as I knew that he was with me, everything would be fine.


    When I did manage to wake up, I was somewhat panicked when I found out that Oliver wasn't still with me. My body was still half-asleep, so instead of getting up, I rolled over, my eyes open just enough that I could see Oliver leaving the room. I frowned a bit, but I didn't say anything. I figured that he was just going to get a drink, and that he would be back in a few minutes. If I hadn't been so damn tired, I would have offered to help him, but seeing as I could barely make myself roll over, I didn't think that getting out of bed was an option. Besides, he had been able to pour our wine by himself the night we went to the Empire State Building. Not to mention the fact that I knew that he liked to do things on his own.


    So I decided to stay where I was for a few more minutes, since it honestly ddidn't feel like I had been asleep for very long. I could hear him moving around in the kitchen, which was initially confusing. Then I decided that he must have just been getting himself a snack. After all, it had been a while since we'd eaten. Letting out a small, unintentional snort, I pulled the sheets more tightly around my body, waiting for him to come back, the corners of my lips turned up slightly.


    But then he didn't come back, and I could smell something odd in the kitchen. The sudden realization that something bad might be happening gave me the energy to sit up and listen for a minute. Something was definitely off, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. Had he set the time too high on the microwave? Most likely. This didn't bother me too much at first, seeing as it couldn't be that much of a problem if he burnt something.


    Then I heard the sound of glass shattering, and I was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, wide-eyed and worried. It was... quite an odd sight to see. Oliver was standing there, clearly shocked, surrounded by broken glass and... was that spaghetti and jelly? I held back a sigh, not wanting to make him feel bad. He was so sweet. Still, I was worried. It looked like he might be hurt, and I didn't want to make the situation worse. After all, even if I was a knife-wielding serial killer, broken glass is not something to screw around with.


    So I told him to stay where he was as I grabbed the broom, sweeping up the glass before throwing away the spaghetti. After a few more minutes, I had cleaned up all of the jelly. Letting out a small sigh - I was still fairly tired -, I walked back over to him, looking him over. "Babe, are you alright?" I asked calmly, hoping that the answer was yes. I didn't bother with asking him what he had been doing. It was fairly obvious, and I knew that he was going to be upset about what had happened without me asking about it.

    [justify]This was not the moment I had envisioned when I had made plans to make him something. I could feel a few shards of glass had cut my legs in a few different places, but I barely paid any attention to them. I looked up from the mess as Cicero groggily made his way into the room, obviously concerned. I felt terrible, this time for more reasons other than just waking him up. He now had to clean up after me, which was the complete opposite of what I wanted to happen when he woke up from his nap.




    I watched as he tidied up the kitchen, getting rid of the sticky mess. It was embarrassing enough to drop something in front of him, but I was completely mortified when I realized he was cleaning up spaghetti and jelly. It wasn't even goihg to end well. I had signed up for failure ever since I reached for the jar. There was a tiny part of me that actually found this funny. Here I was in my own kitchen, microwaving spaghetti and jelly while blind. Hilarious.




    He asked if I was okay, and I just hung my head, frustrated with myself. I leaned into him, my forehead resting on his shoulder. Sighing, I closed my eyes and shook my head a little, laughing out of pity for myself. "Yeah, I think I'm fine. I just..." I pulled back to 'look' up at the ceiling, trying to pull myself together. I wasn't about to cry out of frustration. Gazing at him I smiled sadly and said"I just wanted to try to do something for you for once. Something impressive. So that when you woke up you'd come out and be proud that I had been able to do all of this all by myself. But I just managed to do... This," I murmured, motioning to the remains of the spaghetti.




    My mind immediately made a mental note to make dinner for him for a date idea. When I could see again, of course. Then I could finally use a stove. Finally use actual tomato sauce. Hell, I would even try to make my own for him. I just wanted to show him that I was worth something, because I felt like I wasn't anything species to him.




    I furrowed my brow as I realized I had woken him up once again, and I hated that this was becoming a habit. All I wanted right now was for him to eat and sleep, but instead he woke up and cleaned. I let out another soft sigh, forcing a small smile as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm sorry for waking you up for this. Again," I groaned with defeat. Just a few more days, and then I would be the one to make him breakfast in bed. Or whatever he wanted.[/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
    [hr]
    [hr][/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]When he said that he was okay, I let out a soft sigh of relief. That was all that I had needed to hear to relax. The cleaning didn't bother me much, especially since I was still half-asleep and could just do it without thinking about it. If he was okay, nothing else mattered to me. His safety was my number one priority.


    As I listened to his story, a small smile crossed my face, which I felt somewhat guilty about, since he was clearly upset with what had happened. He tried so hard to do things, and it wasn't just for him. Half of the things he tried to do were for me. Knowing that he cared so much made it all okay, even when he messed up. And because of that, I didn't want to make him feel bad. He just wanted to prove that he could do things for me, too, and I appreciated that more than anything. So I wrapped my arms around him, kissing his cheek gently and messing with his hair.


    He apologized for waking me up again, and I immediately took the opportunity to try and make him feel at least the slightest bit better. "No, it's okay. I woke up a few minutes ago," I said, hoping that this might help. I wasn't going to let him blame himself for everything, and I certainly wasn't going to let him blame himself for something that he hadn't done. Well, I probably had been woken up by him getting out of bed, but that didn't count. I wasn't a very heavy sleeper, and I wasn't even sure that I wasn't going to wake up anyway.


    I was worried that all of this was stressing him out more than it should have, and I wanted to fix it. The only problem was that I didn't know how to. Doing something for him most likely wouldn't help, seeing as he had intended to do something for me. There wasn't much else that I could think of to help him. If anything, trying to fix it would probably end up making everything even worse. I really was stuck between a rock and a hard place with trying not to make him feel worse about himself.


    I took a deep breath, thinking back to what he had said earlier. Doing something definitely wasn't going to make him feel better. Maybe that meant that saying something would help. "Wow. I am... [i]so lucky[/i[ to have someone like you. Nobody else who I have ever dated has cared so much about doing anything for me. The last person I actually dated stubbed his toe one morning and wouldn't do anything for the rest of the day. And... just... look at you. Everything that's happened to you, and you still care about doing everything you can for someone like me. What have I ever done to deserve you?"


    Pulling away an inch or two, I stared down at him, thinking about what I had just said. I meant every word; he was too perfect. "I don't need anything to eat. Let's just go lie down and talk to each other. And then in another week or so you can make us breakfast, and lunch, and anything else that you want to cook."

    [justify]He told me he had already been awake, and I felt significantly better about what just happened. I mean I still felt terrible for just standing there while he cleaned up after me, but it was nice to know that I hadn't disturbed his sleep again. The cuts on my legs and feet stung a little, but it was totally bearable. I didn't want to go through the hassle of dealing with them, anyway. Plus I didn't want to have Cic even more worried about me.




    I had been staring down at my feet when he started talking, trying to focus my eyes to see if there was a lot of blood. There wasn't. I felt myself blushing as he continued, and I looked up, slightly confused but mostly flattered. It still amazed me that he hadn't just gotten frustrated and left. To be frank, James would've probably suggested we go on a break so he could get some space. He would've went to his parents. Maybe even a hotel. If he was thoughtful enough he would've gotten an aid for me, or at least someone to check in on me a couple of times a day.




    It was clear that this level of compassion was still completely foreign to me, and when he asked how he deserved someone like me, I lightly shook my head. "It's the other way around," I grinned, taking his hands. It still worried me when he said he didn't need anything to eat, and I wanted to press the issue, but he then suggested that we go lay down and talk. I liked the sound of that. No one would get hurt or burn jelly doing that.




    I lead Cic back to my room, laying down and gazing up at the ceiling. I would've opted for the couch, but I wanted enough room for us both to lay comfortably and I secretly thought I could lure him back to sleep. Even for just a few minutes. I was just so paranoid that I was making him sleep deprived, or starving him out. I'm sure that was just me overthinking things, though.




    Laying there for a moment, I didn't know why but I felt myself getting worked up. I realized the reason why I was trying so hard was just to keep him with me. To keep us together and dating. It was obvious that I was still in the mindset of being in a relationship with someone like James, because it was the first committed, long-lasting relationship I had ever had. It clearly took a toll on me. James was so touchy and high-matience, and I would practically bend over backwards to please him. He was notoriously known for drinking too much, and being an angry drunk. I was known for apologizing for everything. I didn't know any better.




    But in the short period of time I was by myself, after his death, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was hard to do stuff by yourself when you were blind, so all I did was drink and sulk around. I had no one. Finally I broke the silence as I kept my eyes on the ceiling, thinking aloud. "Cic, I'm sorry I've been a nervous wreck recently. Or just for the past four months. I... I'm just so scared you'll get angry with me and run off. And I know you're not one to be like that, it's just... James was the one to be like that, and that's all I'm used to. So I just feel the need to keep going and going to keep you around and entertained, regardless of my condition." I sucked a breath between my teeth and shut my eyes for a moment. "He would've been gone by now," I added softly.




    Still looking up, I reached down to find one of his hands, squeezing it gently. "And now more than ever I'm scared something's going to happen to you. With this killer and everything, I'm terrified that if you even leave this house I'll get a call that you've been shanked a few blocks over." I shut my eyes for a second, trying to shake the thought. I peeked over at his outline, forcing a sheepish smile. "I don't want to let you out of my sight. What little sight I have, I mean. For your safety and mine, but mainly for my sanity. I'm sure my mom told you all about how I get when no one else is around." It was almost embarrassing to admit my separation anxiety to him, but it felt right. My mother had spilled the beans on it to him anyway, it just felt good for me to actually talk about it. I just hoped he wasn't freaked out by how clingy I seemed. God, I was so clingy. [/justify]

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 18pt;]★ ― cicero jackson[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -10px;]I feel my heart beneath my skin ...
    [hr]
    [hr][/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]I was glad that he had agreed to go back to bed with me. I got the feeling that he was going to get himself worked up over all of this, and that was the last thing I wanted. Though I appreciated the thought, I didn't need him to overwork himself to keep me happy. More importantly, I didn't want him to think that he needed to. Just being with him and knowing that he was mine was enough to keep me happy.


    We got back to his room, and I collapsed onto the bed, sighing happily. Sleeping some more sounded like a great idea, but I knew that I couldn't do it. There was no way that I would be able to fall asleep if there was any chance that he might still be upset with himself. Besides, I had said that we would talk, and I wanted to hear his voice. I liked listening to his voice, especially when I closed my eyes. I could have fallen in love with his voice alone, which always made me realize that that is kind of what he did with me.


    When he started saying that he was sorry, I looked over at him, confused. He really did apologize for everything, and to be honest, I was worried by it. I started trying to think of anything that I might have done to cause this, stopping abruptly when he mentioned James. For a moment, any guilt that I had ever felt about killing James rushed right out of me. Especially earlier on in our relationship, Ollie had been very sensitive when it came to talking about James, and I was so sure that it was because they were so close. I'd always imagined that the person he was so distraught over had been caring and compassionate, at the very least. Knowing that he would have left someone he 'loved' for being blind and clingy... it made me feel a lot better about killing him.


    And suddenly, my dark, terrifying fantasy about what would have happened if I had never killed James changed immensely. Sure, Oliver would still know that I was a serial killer, but it wouldn't be anywhere near as bad if I hadn't killed his boyfriend, who he wouldn't be with in the end anyway. They would have broken up, and Ollie would have done exactly what he had done after James' death. Then he would have gotten over it. Maybe he would have gotten a seeing-eye dog. Not a very well-trained one, though. It would have seen me coming out of McDonalds, and it would have smelled my sausage biscuit. It would have started jumping all over me trying to steal my food, and it would've ended up dragging Oliver with it, almost making him fall over. I would end up catching him, making a lame pun about how he had just 'fallen' for me before I realized who he was, but I would have completely disregarded the fact just as I had in reality.


    Then we would end up exactly where we really were, only I wouldn't have the guilt of killing his ex weighing on my shoulders. We would also have a dog, which would be nice. I snapped out of this daydream as he squeezed my hand, and I nodded a bit as I listened to him, still worried. The worst part of it all was the fact that I was in danger, and getting shanked was a possibility for both of us. But he didn't need to worry about that. Soon, chances were that it wouldn't even be his problem anymore. While it was, I just needed to comfort him. So I let go of his hand, pulling him close, rubbing his back to try and let him know that everything was okay. "I get it. I don't want you to worry so much, but I understand. And trust me, I'd rather have you be clingy than have you be as distant as most of the people I've dated in the past. It just means that you care. But I want you to know that I can't imagine any world in which I would leave you. Especially not one where I would leave you for worrying too much. So you just be as clingy as you want. I'll still love you."


    I yawned, stretching a bit and holding him closer, closing my eyes. I really was tired, but I wanted to stay up, if only for a few more minutes. As my thoughts started to wander, I went still for a moment, and, as always when I'm only partially conscious, I didn't really know where I pulled out the next words that came out of my mouth before I drifted off: "Just promise me one thing? Never go deaf. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't get to start off every morning telling you how much I love you."

    [justify]Cic pulled me close as I told him about how worried I was, and it felt nice that he was being affectionate. I needed this. Even just feeling his existence next to me made me feel significantly safer. For the both of us. It put me at ease to know that he wasn't wandering the streets with a killer out there, and it helped me get rid of the thought that the killer might burst in and kill me. Mostly the first one bothered me. But laying with him helped ease the stress as he rubbed my back.




    He told me to promise him to never go deaf, and I laughed at this. I would definitely try my hardest to avoid that. Honestly, I think it'd be worse than going blind. "Why, you're not into the Hellen Keller type?" I asked sarcastically as I rested my forehead on his chest. I noticed my face felt warm, and it was probably because I was blushing. He was too sweet. And as soon as I heard his breathing become deep, I knew he had fallen back asleep. I stayed up for a few minutes more, still feeling the cuts on my feet and legs from the glass. But it didn't take long before I, too, was in a deep, dreamless sleep.




    And this time I actually slept. Surprisingly, I didn't wake up and go to the kitchen, or need to get up to answer a knock at the door. When I did wake up, I could tell it had been a few hours but I had no idea what time it was. It was already dark in my room because I had turned the lights off long ago, so I couldn't tell by light. I squinted over at my bedside clock and scoffed at myself, hopelessly thinking I could read it. Soon enough, though, I could.




    Sitting up, it was still quiet in the room so I wasn't sure if he was awake. I saw the faint glow of my phone light up in my dresser, and I sat up to reach it. I squinted at the home screen, trying to read the time. It was useless. I whispered to my phone to tell me any current news, and it informed me on a cluster of murders around the city. Immediately, my mind went to him. The killer who had ruined my life. The one who had ended my problematic relationship I occasionally longed for. The one who I locked eyes with and would never forget. The lunatic of a man who found pleasure in corrupting the lives of others.




    After quietly listening to a few articles I rolled over, turning my phone off and kissing Cicero's forehead. I was just so lucky to have him. I knew he wouldn't hurt anyone unless he had to, and didn't think I was a nuisance unlike James. He was the one who found pleasure in saving me from myself.




    //sorry I randomly dropped off of the face of the earth, school started. but should we skip to maybe the day/night before he gets his sight back? or do you have something else you want to do?[/justify]