the beautiful grave (book II)

key

frost

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

          Frost broke in through his own front door, making sure to slam it loud behind him. There would be no welcome guests tonight.

          He'd been so oblivious to what Lily was searching for tonight, when it was painfully clear. He was just being an idiot, thinking she'd hardly want anything to do with him.

          Damn, he couldn't be more wrong.

          She'd wanted to kiss him.

          It's true. Once he re-evaluated the scene in his head, he caught onto all the signals he'd missed before: the relaxing chat, the closeness, the way she pressed her tongue behind her teeth as she smiled...

          Finally, she'd figured out she liked him as more than a friend – and he'd practically rejected her.

          Was he stupid?

          From back in the car, he understood that she'd been angry at him, but claimed she was overreacting. If the tables had been turned, she would've said the exact same thing.

          It's funny how things work out, he thought, secretly laughing to himself.

          He had to see her, tell her she meant something to him. Well, not that she hadn't heard that kind of stuff from him before.

          He was just about to exit, when someone clattered at his doorknob.

          Flinging it open, he put it down as coincidence.

          "Lily? What are you doing here?" He didn't have to invite her in, she pushed by and began pacing around his carpet. She stuck of sweat and fear, and he wondered what made her feel so terrified.

          She didn't speak for a bit, probably trying to calm herself down, so as to provide some sort of help, he fixed her a mug of hot cocoa.

          She gave him a puzzling look, but realizing quickly, she took it from him once it was made, gracing him with a smile.

          "I dreamed of her again." She blurted out. He narrowed his eyes, not completely sure what she was talking about. "Lady, the woman who killed me. I dreamed of her again, except that this time it felt so real."

          He crossed over to her, surprising her that she almost dropped her drink.

          He examined her closely, recognizing that look on her face a mile away. It didn't just contain fear; but there was a dose of skepticism in there as well.

          But that still wasn't all. She mentioned how it felt real, but nothing about what it was alike once she awoke. Like, how come there were bruises around her neck?

          "How real was it?"

          She was befuddled.

          "Real, Frost, that's all I can say! I could touch my bed and my clothes and they felt the way they do now. I'm not crazy... it just, it wasn't... nice."

          She was frantic; pleading. She desperately wanted him to believe her. He knew better than to ever think she was lying. After all, this was Lily.

          Slowly, hesitantly, he reached a hand out to clasp her neck. It would hurt, inevitably, but he just wanted contact.

          She winced.