Sinners | ✔

Chapter 9 : Twin Tattoo

Jett

The dusty air stirs as we begin to rearrange the furniture in Willow's house. Sliding tables together as they screech against the polished floor. More concerned about saving ourselves than the prevention of floor cruelty.

Taking a quick scan of the room, I mentally classify its occupants. Alma, Odin, Quinn, Harper, Willow, and of course myself.

The fear of not knowing everyone's name ebbs away, as I settle into my seat at the foot of the fanciest coffee table imaginable.

With one more swipe of the room, I notice the absence of both Ace and Dekka. Or at least what has been kept of the keeper.

My parietal cortex does its usual bunnie hops, jumping to trivial worries. Possible irrational situations start to surface, bringing to the table an even darker light.

I sense her movements and identify her smell well before she reaches my side. Plopping down beside me, Alma tips her head towards me, studying me for a moment before speaking up.

If anything good is to be said about the vampire situation, it's her demeanor. Still solemn and as calculating as ever yet somehow assertive in an introverted way.

"They're alright." She breaks our silence in a hushed tone. "Listen." She holds a slender finder into the air. After a moment, my ears attune to the sound of a beating heart followed by Ace's chuckle.

Unable to hold my relief, my shoulders sag forward. It's not that I care about them, it's just that I don't get to choose the fixation.

"How'd--"

" You trace your dragons with your fingers, while your whole face goes slack." That's the problem with observers, they pick up on the things you want nothing more than to stay hidden.

Looking down at the twin dragons tattooed on my fore arms, I don't ever recall rolling my flannel sleeves.

"They're a reminder." It comes out more as a squeak than it does a whisper. Doing another quick scan of the room, I notice the others reluctantly conversing. They pay us no notice. Looking at the way she listens, it's as if she wants to know what I have to say, so I continue. "Dragons are fearless, and culturally appropriate. The way I see them, they have no fear. They remind me that even in scary moments I have nothing to fear. I drew them for that reason."

Her expression mirrors a look of understanding that I avoid at all costs, instead I focus on her pin. Her pin is a tiny coffin pinned to her white pan collar.

This catches her attention, as she looks to my pin. Mine is quite different from the others. While theirs are gorey, my is of two theater masks, one black, and the other white.

She reaches out to touch my pin.
"When you pin things to your clothes, you really should make sure to grab more fabric." Her fingers work to undo and redo the pin more securely this time.

"Duly noted. We wouldn't want to accidentally impale ourselves." Despite it all, her thin pale lips curl into what must be a hard earned smile.

This is nice, talking with someone, and not at them. As I'm about to keep the idle conversation going, Dekka appears at the top of the stairs. As she marches down them with her swagger back in place, Ace trails only a few steps behind her.

She looks more alive then her heart sounds as she jumps right past formalities and right onto more pressing matters.

"Fates, my friends, who thought that skipping your first feeding would be a good idea." I sense in her something I too know well, fear.

Waving her hand in the air, a thick pad of yellow lined paper and a ballpoint pen, appears in each of our hands on command.

"Cutting to the chase, seeing how we wasted much needed time, I need you to write down all of your sin."

My gut twists at the thought of having to face the very things that I hide from.

Turning to Alma, it's clear that she must feel a similar way too...