cascade | kotlc

8. I Remember That Night, I Just Might

"No it's not!" the boy protested, hopping up and supporting himself over the girl, his legs binding around her shoulders as he flipped and landed behind her, followed by a playful and gentle slap to the cheek. "You get to learn to bottle lightning, and play splotching, and-"

"And study," she whined, feinting to the left. When the boy raised his arms to parry the attack she sidestepped, moved her left leg back, and launched a quick snap kick toward the boy that struck him squarely in the chest and left him hobbled and doubling over. "Ugh. Wimp. You know you're fine."

"That was uncalled for," he grunted as he swiftly glanced at the moon. The silvery beams brightened up his pale, pale blue eyes, before they were replaced by those blistering beams of unbridled solar flares that charred June's eyes and left her recoiling in surprise.

There was something painful, insecure? (was that the right word?) and miserably agonizing about watching the moment unfurl. Perhaps because she wasn't sure how the moment would end, if it would dissolve into catastrophe or lead into a true happy finale, but it was... the aching.

She stared at the boy and girl, messing with each other's hair and flipping over each other's shoulders, and hurt inside. It hurt, a lot.

- F. V.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

There was that certain ringing in his ears, completing a synchronous migraine-tension-cluster-headache combination. It was as if someone had tossed a hollow bastion bell into his skull and it was now ricocheting across his brain, but it was a chime? A certain clicking? A roaring? It was everything: tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

He groaned. His body was stiff, and everything still throbbed with the pulse that matched the rhythm of the chiming. Tick-tock. He could barely see straight, and water was clouding his vision, and the figures before him were splotchy and distorted, as if he was faced by an entire army of Blurs. Tick-tock. A girl leaned over him concernedly, was it June? Sophie? Faye, even? Her lips brushed his, softly, sweetly. It was June, he could tell, it was a gesture she specifically reserved for him, god he loved her, tick-tock tick-tock TICK.

TOCK.

The clicking graduated into a crescendo and cascaded into a waterfall-like symphony, TICK-TOCK, and so it was just damned loud! Why? WHY?

WHY, WHY, WHY DID IT HAVE TO HURT SO MUCH?

Something flared in his chest, his brain, his arms, everywhere, and pain overwhelmed him, seizing him and forcing him to double over, the damned pain! THE PAIN! TICK-TOCK, and the girl, June, she pressed her refreshingly cool palm to her forehead and eased the exertion, and he clung onto her, weakly, oh, god, he hated it, TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK, and pain overtook him again, like torture, whips lashing against his chest, and something so incredibly soft, and so prettily pink, dipped over his mouth and up again, TICK-TOCK, what was it?

He was faintly aware of the brilliant and heavenly warm gold that swept them away, since it was prickling his skin, quite electrifying! TICK-TOCK. Was he going insane? But short, dark hair fluttered over his eyelids, brought by the sweet-scented wind, he saw, TICK-TOCK, subconsciously? the pink pair of heart-shaped lines that skimmed over him, and the wind seemed to soften the aching, why did it ache so much? But god it hurt! TICK-TOCK. Damn that roaring, he wished it would stop, "June? June? June?"

And June replied, "Yes, I'm here," and pink touched him, and his focus sharpened, and the golden strands whirled around him and sent him away.

- S. F.