Curiosity Kills the Cat (An IDFB Fanfic)

Chapter 29

Chapter 29
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Growing Crescendo
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Third Person P.O.V.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. One, two, three.

She liked to imagine herself dancing a waltz when she had nothing to do. In the preoccupation of everything around her, it was a calm thing to do. Imagining the flow of strings crescendoing in the background as she danced. She didn't even know if she had the steps right, but she loved to dance in the rhythm with the orchestra. Maybe it was a nervous tic of hers, seeing how she was currently using it.

She paced around the bonfire pit in circles, hands in her pockets, desperate to rid the agitation in her system. Occasionally, she'd look back to the city, holding on to some optimism of his figure popping up from the horizon. She kicked the dirt under the sole of her shoes, grumbling nonsensical words with disappointment.

"Of course," Leafy mumbled to no one in particular. "He's late."

Despite not knowing the time, she knew for a certainty that it was getting too late. With the restless night she had spent the past few months, she could sense how late it was. Still, she held onto to hope, some part of her wishing he would show up.

Even if she knew it wouldn't happen.

"There's still a chance," she said with hesitance. The words sounded just as wrong as thinking them. She sighed, finally sitting down.

"He's not showing up," she mumbled in annoyance.

Maybe he forgot? Like Fire—

Nope!

She didn't want to think that way. There needed to be reason and understanding.

"Or just lost track of time?" She flicked the grass under her hand with ease, hoping to reason with the boiling troublesomeness in her mind. "Maybe he's playing it safe?"

Something must have put itself in his way, stopping him. It was the only logical thing that wasn't warped in her anxiety. "Yeah! That's it."

As long as he was fine, she was fine—both in body and in mind. He was the gateway key to her, so if anything happened to him, she'd be next. Although she wouldn't know until it was too late for her to do anything. She could only hope for the best for him—in whatever situation he found himself.

"He's fine," she whispered, setting her free hand over her eyes.

"He's fine."

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He didn't show up the next night either.

"Maybe he didn't mean it as a calendar week and more than sometime-next-week."

Leafy was skittish that night, distracting herself by again running in circles. She'd fidget with the buttons of her khaki shorts, opening and closing them as she contemplated. Even if he had meant it that way, Coiny should have arrived either a few nights ago or a few hours ago.

She, of course, stayed up, passing the time cutting off branches from the near yoyleberry bushes for firewood. Through her distracted mind, she hadn't realized she overstocked, piling up wood that could last her the rest of the week.

"Wish I could message him," she said, letting her thoughts leave her head. "Or just talk to him."It buzzed around her head like a swarm of bees, ravaging her thought process. The countless times she'd turned to the horizon, questioning if he'd show up, was getting tiring for her. And the jitters from the simple imaginative notion of him being questioned were bothersome.