"I just couldn't resist."
"Only sacred things deserve to be messed with."
It all ended with a dead kid near the train tracks.
Six years later, the story repeats itself and two long-forgotten friends might find out that when death tries to play match...
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The wind is howling outside of the bathroom window and I lean back against the porcelain, feeling myself growing sleepy.
I put back The Picture of Dorian Grey on the floor and push myself further into the bath, the hot water rising up to my chin as I let out a satisfied hum. The bubbles are almost gone now, and the water is turning warm, but I feel so good in my world of scented candles and lavender oil that I don't dare open my eyes.
However, I feel like my skin is slowly shrivelling like an old prune and I know it's time to get out. I grab a towel and stand up, making sure I don't trip and fall as I get out and wrap it around my body.
I feel languid and weary from the bath and when I check my phone, I notice that it's almost midnight. I dry myself and put on my pyjama top but stop in my tracks, looking down on the floor.
A drop of blood appears on the white tile, red and insistent, and I realize I'm bleeding.
Being a woman is such a wonder of nature.
Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, I manage to find a box of tampons, but it appears like there is only one left, and I sigh in defeat. Looks like I will need to go outside after all, and the idea doesn't thrill me.
A few minutes later, however, I am running to the closest 24h convenience store in a quest for pads and tampons, wrapped in my hoodie and a jacket to survive the weather.
The night is freezing, cold wind hitting my face as I hug my body in an attempt to keep the sluggish warmth of the bath close to me. Luckily, the convenience store is only a few blocks away, and by cutting through the park, I know I can get there even faster.
Dirkwood is silent at night. After nine, there isn't a cat outside, and the streets are deserted, almost feeling like a ghost town. The yellow gleam of the streetlamps lengthen as I pass by and I watch my shadow move around me, following loyally.
Soon, the white fluorescent lights of the shabby convenience store come into view at the end of the street and they flicker ominously as I cross the deserted parking lot to make my way inside.
It smells like old plastic in there and I don't like it. The fridges full of beer buzz as I walk through the alleys, looking for my usual brand of feminine products. Finally, I grab what I need, adding a chocolate bar to the pile because I deserve it for even bothering to go outside at midnight in the cold and I make my way to the counter, dropping my things to look up to the cashier.
I falter when my gaze meets two cat-like eyes and a mischievous grin full of teeth, the stick of a lollipop sticking out of his mouth.
"Hello Sage," he says, and I can hear the smirk in his tone.
"Yoongi," I realize, pushing my jacket hood away from my face, "I didn't know you worked here."
I pull the hair out from my jacket hood so I look somewhat presentable and suddenly feel shy in my pyjamas when he looks awfully good in ripped bleached jeans and black t-shirt.
