Kid
: Chapter 6

Her tattoo is slithering up and around her thigh.

The snake is alive; the tongue darting out at me, tempting me to touch it, begging me to eat the forbidden fruit, knowing I’ll be bitten if I do. I move my hand closer, but just as I do, it flashes its fangs at me, causing me to suck in a breath and pull away at the last minute.

She’s on top of me on the bed now. We’ve moved from the couch to the bedroom. After finally pushing me off her lips, I take a quick glance around at my crush’s bedroom. Her real den of secrets. Surprisingly, the space is as bland as it comes. It’s as if we are in someone else’s room, a stranger’s. The walls are white; the bedspread is white, the endless amount of pillows are white, even the simple desk in the corner is white. Everything is stark white. There is a total lack of her in this room, and it’s extremely peculiar to me.

Everything that she embodies is color. She’s vibrant, she beams, she’s bright, bold, and fucking radiant.

Radiant.

Some Pig. Charlotte’s Web.

I bet that spider we saw earlier is constructing a web dedicated to describing her beauty in the only way that he can. His life’s purpose, to attempt to put Han into words. Words that could never truly encapsulate her. Words are meaningless when it comes to the complexities that encompass her. Useless, stupid words.

Jesus, I’m all over the place. I’m tripping the fuck out.

I’m laying back in her heap of pillows, her soft, beautiful form above me again. I rest my head back into the white fluff, but don’t feel like I’ve stopped falling back yet.

It’s because I haven’t.

I keep falling down.

Down.

d

o

w

n

D

O

W

N

I’m literally being swallowed whole into this cloud of angry pillows. They are everywhere, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me into them. Why are there so many?! How can one live like this?!

They are dragging me deep down into their suffocating hole. The space is getting tighter and tighter as they crowd my face, bound to smother me to death in a warm, white embrace.

I’m frantically looking around me, my chest heaving as my face shifts back and forth from side to side. She peers down at me through her dark, short hair, watching me with her soft lips parted slightly as she evaluates me. Her soft lashes, fluttering like little butterflies, lifting and closing the magnificent reptile-green eyes beneath them.

“Are you alriiiiiight?” she asks in slow motion, the golden beams of her voice melting the pillow of anxiety right off my face like the sun to a winter snow.

I take a breath, realizing the pillows are retreating for the time being, when her question hits me again.

“I’m alright. No!” I shout dramatically, stopping myself from sounding bland. “I’m amazing.”

Her lip pulls up in the corner as her grin forms. My hands skim their way up her thighs and I close my eyes, feeling the softness beneath my fingertips without making eye contact with her tattoo. She hums out a sweet sounding moan, enjoying the feeling of my hands on her, and I immediately open my eyes again, trying not to miss the colors of her sounds radiating around the room.

I had no idea this would be such a visual experience.

“What do you wanna do, Kid?” she asks me softly, her fingers trailing from my chest down my abdomen. The feeling is sensational.

Wait. When did my shirt come off?

I take in her appearance. Her chest is rising and falling above me as she licks her lips, studying my body, softly tracing the outlines of my tattoos with her middle finger. It feels so good, her touch on me, just as it seems to feel good to her. She flutters her butterfly lashes up and connects eyes with me.

It’s powerful, this look. It reaches inside of my chest and grabs something deeper. I pull her down so her elbows are surrounding me and we’re only inches apart. We study each other with our matching dilated eyes, the look of two lost souls, somehow seeing their reflection in each other.

I feel as if we’ve met before. I feel as if we’ve known each other for centuries and have finally found our way back to one another. Lost lovers, separated by years of war, or something of the like. The feeling raises the hair on my arms; the chills taking over my skin, working their way up my spine. It’s some sort of reckoning.

“Fuck,” I whisper to myself at the power of it all.

“You want to fuck?” she asks softly, and I forget she asked me a question.

I shake my head from side to side, still staring at her, unable to blink, not wanting this connection to stop. I could let my eyeballs dry up, crust away into nothing as long as it meant I could keep looking at her.

“I want so much more,” I whisper with a pained expression, shocking myself with the admission.

Her butterflies retreat as the words leave my mouth. The snake slides up her hip again, gliding over her stomach, turning and glaring down at me, angry with my words. I feel my eyes growing large as the pillows begin their slow crawl towards my head again, sure to end me this time. It’s all happening again now.

My eyes must be darting wildly around because she grabs for my face, holding my jaw lightly in her hands, her adorable and caring smile calming my racing heart again.

“Kid,” she whispers.

“Hmm?” I ask, trying not to make eye contact with the pillows.

“Come here, baby. Let’s get you a drink of water.”

We make our way back to the kitchen again as she fills up a glass of water while I stand near the wall watching her.

I hear someone trying to get my attention.

“Pssst!”

Someone else is in here?!

“Psst! Kid!”

Oh fuck.

I nervously draw my eyes towards the sound, attempting to not move my head in the process.

Who the fuck is behind me?!

Turning my head slightly, I come face to face with him.

Norbert. It’s fucking Norbert. His head is turned towards me now, his beady eyes and creepy smile tormenting me in the worst possible way.

“You’re so naïve, man,” his stoner voice fills my ear.

“What?!” I whisper back at him.

“She’ll never let you in,” he laughs, his eyes never closing, his mouth gaped open.

It’s eerie, and yet I still feel bad for him. He didn’t ask to look like this. Poor dude.

“Why not?!” I whisper while simultaneously yelling, turning to make sure Han didn’t hear me.

She’s putting ice cubes in the glass, her back still facing me, unaware of my conversation with the dead duck carcass.

“She’s broken. Her soul is gone. Think you can fix her? Bring her back to me?”

The dead duck is asking if I can bring a living human back to life. The irony.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” I admit, sighing and accepting the fact that Norbert is in full-blown conversation mode.

Shit, I can barely fix myself.

“She’s your purpose.”

I scoff at his words.

“What do you know about purpose? You play the harmonica.” He stills, facing me, so I make a face at him.

“Complete the band and you’ll bring her back,” he croaks out.

“What?” He isn’t making any sense.

“Complete the band,” he says again in a disgusting hoarse whisper.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” I yell out, getting angry at Norbert for his word vomit.

“I don’t think I said anything,” Han answers, bringing me the water. “But who knows? Words tend to slip when time changes.”

She leans down to me. Why is she leaning down over me?

I must’ve slid down the wall onto the floor. Yep, I’m on the ground now. She sits next to me, not asking questions as to how I got here, just accepting the fact that I’m tripping the fuck out.

We sit there next to each other on the linoleum floor of her kitchen, our backs against the wall, our legs splayed out before us. Pretty Ricky is playing in the background now and we’ve come full circle in her random taste in music. I’m shirtless and she’s wearing only my shirt. I don’t know how we got here, but here we are.

My hands are laying on the floor, face up next to me as my arms relax. She slides her hand over the top of my hand, her soft, warm little fingers making their way through mine. I look down at our connected hands, taking my other one and placing it on top of hers, then holding it on my lap as I tilt my head to the side to gaze at her.

She’s staring across the room at the opposing wall, deep in thought. I’m not even sure how much time has passed, but looking at the glass of water she gave me, I see it’s now all gone, the ice already melted.

“I asked you earlier if I’ll ever make you feel,” I say softly. “I was thinking it, but didn’t realize I said it out loud.”

She swallows, still staring at the wall.

“You said I already make you feel.”

She says nothing, just parts her lips while sucking in a breath.

“What do I make you feel, Han?” I ask, curious to know. “And why does it make you sad?”

Her brows lower as a look of sadness and frustration seeps its way over her previously blank face.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s not enough time for that,” she says, finally rolling her head against the wall to face me.

I’ve realized her voice doesn’t carry color anymore. I must be on the comedown. Maybe that’s what she means by there’s not enough time. She’s coming down too. Our timing is all off. How can we connect when we can’t even seem to meet in the same dimension? The fact that I’m even thinking about these things shows just how fucked up I am.

“We’re both so fucked up,” I admit.

She chuckles lightly, giving me her wicked grin.

“And yet, it’s so strange. I get this feeling that we’ve met before,” she admits.

“I feel that too,” I add. “It’s kinda crazy.”

“It is,” she nods, turning back to face me, her look of reckoning melting through me. “There’s a strange familiarity I feel when I look at you. Like I’ve known you.”

“Maybe we have. Known each other, that is. Maybe we’ve met before. A different time, a different dimension.” I shrug.

Her serious face takes in my words, then slowly shifts into a soft smile. “I’d like to think so.”

She’s being so open with me right now. Her earlier statement replaying itself to me, she said words tend to slip when time changes. She brought me into her world to communicate this with me the only way she can. I’m the hand reaching down the rabbit hole to save her from the nightmares. She brought me here to trip so I can reach her, but time has run out. The white rabbit is back with his pocket watch, edging her along.

More time passes as we sit together, hand in hand. I feel myself start to finally come down a bit. I’m not seeing hallucinations anymore, but still feel a crazy sense of awe and wonder, like I did in the beginning.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks, brushing some of the hair back off my forehead.

She continues softly stroking the side of my face with the backs of her fingers. I love the feeling. I lean my head back against the wall, enjoying the sensation.

She took care of me during my first trip. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else, anywhere else. The thought of being on the beach near the ocean during this experience nearly gives me a heart attack. She was right to bring me here.

“Yeah. I feel it coming down a bit,” I comment, letting out a chuckle, shaking my head slightly.

“It can be really wild your first time,” she says.

“Tell me about it,” I scoff. “Norbert started talking to me.”

“He’s a great conversationalist,” she comments seriously, as if she does it all the time.

Does she talk to the duck?!

My face must’ve dropped because she laughs hysterically.

“I don’t talk to the duck, bruh. That’s all you.” She rolls her eyes playfully at me, then smiles.

I must’ve been acting like a total fool for a while there. I should care. I should be embarrassed, but all I can think about is the fact that she called me “bruh”. Friend-zoned in a word.

I don’t want it. A friendship with her. That’s never going to be enough for me. The thought alone, driving me mad.

“Are you attracted to me?” I ask, needing to know.

It’s a bold question, but I’m feeling bold.

She giggles. “Obviously. I wouldn’t have been sucking face for the last three hours if I wasn’t. It’s those icy, glacial eyes that keep seeing through me the way they do. It’s kinda trippy, but incredibly sexy.”

My eyes!? Sexy?! Han called me sexy.

I love that we seem to mirror each other in that regard. I still can’t get over the reptilian colors of hers.

Studying her face, her lips, her eyes, her chest that begins rising and falling as she peers from my eyes to my lips and back, I take in a deep breath, letting it out before I stand up, holding out my hand for her. She sits there, confused, looking up at me suspiciously. I may have had a moment, but I’m back. She slowly places her hand in mine, her curious eyes studying me, watching my every move.

I pull her up almost as fast as I push her into the wall behind her.

She gasps as I press my hips into her, leaving no space between us, forcing her to look up at me.

“Kid,” she says cautiously, almost unsure of my intentions.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I met you in that shit club,” I say in a serious tone, grabbing her wrists in my hand and gripping them firmly against the wall above her head.

I dip my head to the side and lick up the length of her petite neck, my tongue dragging over the fern leaves tattooed there, tracing them before sucking the skin directly above it. The beautiful, soft, untouched skin beneath her ear.

She moans in approval as my teeth sink into her skin, dragging roughly along the smooth surface, sure to leave a dark mark, before gently soothing it with my tongue, licking the spot and leaving a kiss.

Giving me her sweet sounds as her breath becomes labored, she gives me full access to her neck. “Do it again.”

I repeat the motions, leaving another mark on her neck, branding her as mine before she even understands my intentions.

I don’t think she has any idea what she’s doing to me. I’m falling into her like I fell into those pillows. Deep into their warm embrace, with the knowledge I’ll be smothered once this is over. My breath, taken from me by the vixen surrounded in white.

But falling never felt so fucking good.