Dancing In His Storm [BxB] √

CHAPTER 10.2: The Aftermath

AMBROSE

I became very much aware of what I just did, and the gloomy feeling of horror and confusion dawned upon me. Maybe I can call myself lucky that no one witnessed me kissing August. And it wasn't just a kiss. It was a French kiss involving the tongue and basically the whole mouth. I didn't know what to do right after I was pulled towards reality, and I'm pretty much sure August is confused too. I got scared that I just had to run away.

The skies continued with the heavy downpour as I kept on running. I've been living here in Mary Heights for the past seventeen years of my existence, and I'm very much familiar with these parts of the woods. There are times that I spend my weekends just walking around the woods and accidentally discovering hidden sceneries such as small caves, abandoned cabins and animal nests. It became a hobby of mine since I don't have many friends that invite me to stuff. I ended up going on my own adventures. Perhaps I can say that I'm a better person when I'm alone. I hated the feeling of loneliness, but I am at my best when in solitary.

My feet seemed to have their own brain, and they kept on moving swiftly, covering the muddy and slippery trail until I eventually found myself at the main road. My shoes were already covered in mud, as well as my uniform. I stopped for a while and tried to let my exhaustion come down to bearable ease. It was a little bit difficult to try and catch my breath under the heavy rain. After a while, I resumed running, but this time I was going at a slower pace. I feel like I have been running for the whole day, and I'm not reaching my destination, but my body seemed to like the feeling of this. I feel like I'm just working out. I got to where I parked my motorcycle and began riding my way home.

I was riding my motorcycle going home when the rain finally reeled to an end. The skies slowly changed from that dark and gloomy hue to this breathtaking work of art. I had to stop driving just to watch the insanely beautiful sky. I raised my head, and it was calming to see the reflection of the sun's rays. I wish I was this calm all the time. I wish I could just release all of this heat and bottled-up wrath inside of me.

After several minutes the pinkish hue painted in the sky vanished, ultimately killing the awe that I had for it, and it was finally time for me to go home. It was already dark when I parked my motorcycle in our front yard. I unplugged the key and eventually inched my way inside the house. I immediately started stripping my clothes until I was fully naked. I left my wet and muddy uniform lying idly on the floor and had no problem with it. No one's going to get disgusted by it anyway. I walked fully naked around the house. I made myself a good warm cup of coffee. I took a few sips, and it felt insanely good after being drenched in the rain for so long. My hands were already pale and wrinkly as if they had seen a good seventy human years. I looked at my feet, and they looked exactly the same. I took another long sip, and the heat perfectly stroked my throat and slowly warmed my intestine.

I didn't know I was walking aimlessly around the house while holding the mug with both of my hands. I ended up standing in front of this enormous painting of our family hanging in the hallway. I looked at my dad in his navy blue tuxedo. His hair was waxed to create a good volume that matched his style. My dad was smiling from ear to ear, and I thought his smile in this picture was the only genuine smile that I have seen from him. He looked much younger in this painting, and I'm guessing this is the time when he was still passionate about his job and cared about his family. I have never known that younger, kinder and innocent version of him. He was already rich, powerful and owned his own business by the time I was old enough to keep track of my memories. Although he's only forty-nine, he already looked like he's in his late fifty's. I guess that's because all he cares about now is money. Mr Krabs' probably jealous of him.

My dad was standing with one of his arms around my mom's shoulder and the other on my brother's shoulder. My mom, on the other hand, appeared as if she was made to become a mother, which is quite ironic because she doesn't even care about me at all. Her smile was genuine too, and I missed her being the caring mother that she used to be. I still remember her taking good care of me every time I got sick, but that act gradually changed. The baby in her arms was me, and she seemed like she dreamt of having this family.

I looked at my brother; he was probably seven around the time this painting was painted. I don't know anything about him or what he was like, and I'm actually happy that I never had to know him at all. My mother hated talking about him when I was young, so I never really knew what he was like as a brother. His death was definitely the reason why I am in this horrible situation right now. I still don't know how grief works and how it fucks up people, but my mom was all good during the first five years of his death. She still did her job as a mother, and it was probably the only good memory that I have had with her; after that, everything was horrible. She eventually became this mad woman that I don't recognize anymore.

There was this one time that I hurt my knee while riding my bicycle, and I went home crying. I thought my mother was going to help me clean it, but she got mad at me for all the wrong reasons. She blamed me for being bad at riding a bicycle and then brought up my brother's name in the picture. There were also several times that I was throwing tantrums because I didn't like eating broccoli and spinach, and my mom got terribly mad at me. She was screaming like a madwoman and then shoved all the veggies in my mouth and forced me to swallow them. There are also times that I caught her crying in her room with the picture of my brother in her arms. I wanted to comfort her in her sorrowful times, but she wasn't allowing me to.

My dad, on the other hand, was out there doing his thing, donating things, doing charity and stuff. I never really had the chance to figure out what's making him generate all of this money. He always kept me out of it. I was also never allowed to enter his private workroom at that time. I thought he was just this genuinely good person, but it turns out that he was just doing all of this selfless bullshit to cover up his dirty business.

I took the last sip of coffee and walked away feeling a bit angry about this family. Staring at this family painting is exacerbating. I ended up walking inside the shower. I turned on the heater and waited a few moments for the water to heat up before eventually turning the shower on.

I was standing under the shower as the hot water trickled down my body. My mind started thinking about August. I guess I am not allowed to feel bad for leaving August in the middle of the woods, but I am now reaping this feeling of regret. He just moved here from Highmont City, and he probably got lost trying to find his way out.

"Fuck!" I let out a curse that echoed throughout the tiled room.

I don't know why I am feeling bad about it. I reckon it's because of that goddamn kiss. It is making me anxious for all the unwanted reasons.

August's lips felt tender in a way that I had never thought of. I have fantasized about kissing Rachel's cherry lips more than I could ever think of, but to actually kiss someone is a whole different thing. It's my first real kiss, and although it was very unexpected, I kind of felt the passion burning inside of me. It felt good and sexy. It's becoming difficult for me to admit the truth, but I do like that kiss. All of the anger bottled up inside me just vanished and was replaced with a jolt of electricity that seemed to tickle all the good places in me.

I'm all about kicking August's butt and letting the whole campus rethink about naming him the Ambrose bane, but now things are getting murky. I'm furiously mad that August just showed up and stole everything away from me, but now, it feels extremely weird that I'm not mad at myself for kissing him. Yes, I got scared about it earlier, and that made me run away without saying a single word, but now that I had the chance to let everything sink in, I feel like I should've at least told August something.

I don't know if I still hate August after that. I thought my decisionwas final and irrevocable, but now everything is thrown out of the window.There's a small part of me that wants to convince myself that there's somethingmore about that kiss.