The Hit List

Chapter 29

"Did you really want to crash a wedding?" I hear his voice ask from behind me.

I turn around slowly "Did I want to crash a wedding?" I repeat "Well, let's just say spontaneity got the best of me when I was writing my list."

His eyebrows arch in amusement. "Spontaneity?" his lips curl into a playful smirk. "Well, I can't say I'm not intrigued."

His demeanor raises a sense of mischief within me as I meet his gaze with a grin of my own. "Spontaneity is the spice of life, isn't it?"

His laughter dances in the dark air. "Absolutely," he replies. "After all, where's the fun in life without a little spontaneity?"

"Exactly," I agree. "The only issue is finding one to crash."

His eyes twinkle with mischief as he considers the challenge at hand. "Ah, but that's the beauty of spontaneity, isn't it?"

A strange sense of excitement rushes through me as I nod in agreement. "Absolutely," I reply. "I honestly didn't think you'd be so into it."

His grin widens. "You never know what hidden depths someone might possess," he chuckles. "But when it comes to the unexpected, count me in every time."

As our laughter fades into a comfortable silence, I find myself drawn to the warmth in his eyes even in the darkness of the tent.

"Also it helps that I'm a great planner. The wedding's in a couple of days. Do you have a dress, or should we stop at a store tomorrow?" I prop myself up on my elbow, the sleeping bag slipping from my shoulder. "Excuse me?" I watch as he remains still in his, looking at me blankly. As though he already gave the story in full. "The wedding's on Tuesday. Weird day to have a wedding, but the weather's supposed to be nice."

A smile curls at the edges of my mouth as I digest his words. "Tuesday?" I echo.

"Yes, Tuesday. It's about an hour and twenty to get there. So, not too bad of a trip." He unzips his sleeping bag, sliding out of the cloth.

Wordlessly, he rises to his feet, hunched slightly under the low tent roof. In the dim light, his silhouette casts long shadows against the fabric. Despite the cramped space, there's still a quiet grace to the way he moves.

I watch as he unzips the door, the chill air filling the confined space.

Goosebumps pepper his legs, bare underneath boxer shorts. The hair raises on his arms as he turns back to me, zipping the door closed behind him.

I hear his footsteps crackle away, fading into the distance, giving way to the silence of the night.

It's strange. How much I miss his company when he's away. How I didn't hate the idea of him taking up a part of my space. The argument about him sleeping next to me died on my tongue before it ever truly had a chance to live. It wasn't even the fact that I feared what I didn't know in the dark wilderness, I feared I wouldn't be able to sleep as well without hearing his breathing. A strange white noise I've grown to recognize.

The strange revelation descends upon me like a soft mist as I lay in the tent's faint light.

He wasn't a friend. But he was slowly shifting from foe into the strange unknown.

I was terrified of what I would reveal to him, but the rapid heartbeat was also a reminder that I was still alive. That I would continue to live this enigmatic life with him until all items were crossed off. Until I had lived a full life within weeks. It was temporary. Everything was temporary. He was temporary. I am temporary. He knows I'm temporary. My heartbeat is temporary.

Living without consequences is an exhilaration I have never experienced before. My rapid heartbeat halts when I hear the zipper rise, until the warm smell of smoke fills my lungs.