Fallen

Chapter 29. A kiss under the stars [Michael]

The sky is black.

The full moon is out and shining brightly. Thousands upon thousands of stars occupy the clear space.

Apart from the light of the moon, streetlights stretch out around the park. The stale light illuminates the dirt trails that lace themselves around plains of grass. Rich patches of green.

The cool breeze is chilling. The cold creeps upon my skin, the small of my hairs rising. I'm beginning to regret losing my shirt.

The ground beneath my feet is dancing. Everything is slurred, slow-paced. And every time I move my head an inch, nausea strikes.

Caleb helps me sit down on the bench. He slumps down next to me, out of breath from carrying the majority of my weight.

I let myself rest my head upon his shoulder. His cheek leans on the back of my head, and his hand goes up to my hair. Trailing through it, playing with the ends.

The muscles in my back loosen. The tension, leaving my body. It's relaxing. To finally get a moment to breathe. There was not a lot of that at the party. Things were fast then, loud noises, many strangers. And the alcohol, as much as I liked it, made everything quicker, blurrier.

There is still a consistent throbbing on my cheek, and my bottom lip burns lightly as well. The blow came as a surprise, and the kiss even more so. My guard was down. I was ready to fight back, but something within myself stopped me. Maybe I knew that nothing good would come out of it.

The kiss was a surprise, and something was not right, I know that. The lips didn't belong to the right person. The one who lingers in each and every corner of my mind. When worry is near, when doubt clouds my mind, Caleb's there. He's always there.

"I'm sorry, Caleb," I find myself whispering out in the dark.

Caleb stops trailing his hand through my hair. He raises his head to look down at me.

"Nothing that happened tonight was your fault," Caleb bites his red bottom lip, the small fangs from his costume showing. "You deserve an apology and so much more."

"I made you worry," I say, my heart dropping to the bottom of my stomach. "I left you."

"Last time I checked, I actually left you, and I shouldn't have," His hands flop down to his clothed thighs. "Tina needed me, but you did too."

"We can't change anything," I tell him, sitting up. "Even if we could, we shouldn't. Tina looked like she needed you. And apart from the blow to my face, I did find something enjoyable at the party."

Caleb moves closer, raising a dark brow, "And what was that?" He asks me, a smile on his beautiful face. The fake blood on his lip, trailing down his chin, is smeared, almost off. It leaves a red tint to his already plump lips. Making them look kissable.

"Dancing with you," I tell him honestly. Something blooms in my stomach, something instead of guilt. "Just being near you."

Caleb rolls his eyes and slaps me on the arm playfully, "You're such a sap." His laugh is warm, breathy.

"I have no idea what sap means," I look into his blue eyes. They shine under the light of the lamp. Sparkling prettily. Words come off my tongue before I can stop them. "I like you a lot," I say.

I can see Caleb blush, "I like you a lot too," He says. Eyes darting away from me, at something past my shoulder.

"I liked seeing you jealous," I tell him.

I can see the panic in Caleb's eyes. He stops. Looking up at me again, biting his lip.

"I was so not jealous," It's a lie, clear as the moon is bright. I take his chin in my hand, leading his face closer to mine. A smug smile on my face. I can feel the confidence loom. It's making me do things I would have never done before now.

"You totally were," I whisper. Our faces are close enough for our breaths to mingle together. It's not the first time we are this close, but it's the first time I have ever heard Caleb this desperate for anything.

"Just shut up and kiss me already," He nearly begs. His hand, grasping the material of my pants. Knuckles turning weight at the strain. Holding himself back.

And I do, kiss him, that is.

I take Caleb's face in my hands, and I force our lips to meet. Our noses bump each other.

Before I close my eyes, I see Caleb's own baby blue ones on me. Dark lashes in deep contrast with his flushed cheeks. His ears are red, perhaps from the cold or maybe because of something else.

I trace my tongue across his bottom lip. Teasing the plump bottom. Grazing it against my teeth. He opens his mouth wider, inviting me in. Letting me taste him.

I close my eyes, savoring his taste. It's cherry-like. And I relish in the warmth his mouth gives me.

"There's fake blood on your bottom lip," Caleb points out when we stop to catch our breaths.

"I think that's my real blood," I tell him.

He cringes, "You taste slightly of something coppery, metallic. That explains why," He shakes his head. "I should have done something more. I should have hit that guy."

Caleb goes to remove the smear with his thumb. Sucking it dry of the remains.

"You're doing enough right now," I tell him, taking hold of his wrist and leading his hand up to my lips to kiss the knuckles softly.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" Caleb asks, smiling. His lips are slightly swollen from the onslaught of my own.

"Yeah," I answer him, my heart galloping.

Our mouths touch once again. This time more desperate, us both reaching for a finish. There's a low moan coming from Caleb.

Suddenly, I feel something rise up in my stomach. Nausea strikes, and before I know it, I'm bending over the bench, almost hitting my own feet with the acidity flow of liquid.

The vile smell hits almost instantly, and I can hear Caleb wince. He pats me on the back softly. His soft palm, rubbing at my tense muscles. It reminds me of my lack of dress, and I start to shiver.

"Remind me to never let you drink ever again," Caleb says half-heartedly.

"It's not that bad," I lie. At this exact moment, I feel like dying. My throat is sore, and the acidic taste won't leave my mouth no matter how many times I try to spit it out.

"We should go home," Caleb announces and begins to stand up. He helps me up, moving me away from the puddle of puke by the bench. My arm is slung around his shoulder. His hand, grabbing my waist to keep me up against him and standing.

We take small steps down the dirt trail.

I did not notice it before, the usual sounds of the night. Maybe because of the alcohol or Caleb's enticing lips. But the cricketing, hooting from night-owls, creaking from trees, and the gentle rustle of leaves. All of that is gone. It's clear as day that something is wrong.

Chills run up my spine. The hairs on my neck, slowly rising and not only from the cold.

"Caleb, stop," I order, and he does.

"You need to puke again?" He asks, staring up at me with a questionable gaze.

I shake my head in return, "Listen," I say.

He does. We stand there for a short while, not moving an inch. No sounds around us.

"I can't hear anything," He replies.

"Exactly," I point out.

His eyes widen.

"You think something is wrong," He says. Speaking of the worry that forms in my head.

"Just walk," I say.

We both pick up the pace, heading straight out of the park. A bush behind us starts to rustle, following a snarly growl. The streetlight above us begins to flicker.