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~Little soft pulses in my dead ~In the middle I will do my best, take me in your arms and leave the rest.
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I woke up with a blood curdling scream.
“SHIT!” a deep voice cursed in response, followed by a loud thump on the floor. "That's...just wonderful," the voice muffled.
I searched the dark, unfamiliar room with my hand to my pounding heart. I might still be dreaming! I have no idea where I—
A warm hand placed itself by leg, and a shadowed figure leaned on the couch. I cringed away, getting ready to scream once again. “Are you kidding me, Faith?” the deep voice growled from next to me, only belonging to David Starr. "No seriously, I want to know if your kidding me."
Two solid claps echoed the room, and the lights turned on halfway. I squinted with the new light until I could take in the familiar man in front of me. “David!” I cooed, a smile on my sleepy face. With his shaggy brown hair, dark brown eyes, and wide frame he was kind of hard to miss, as well as the deep grown in between his eyebrows.
“You screamed, in my ear,” he hissed, his jaw clenched to it's limit. “You screamed in my ear! Do you know what that’s like?” he questioned angrily. "It felt like a starting horn blaring in my eardrum. I could literally feel the vibrations you gave my eardrum."
I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at what I was staring at the whole time he was talking. He had two red lips smudge on his cheek. A shade I personally loved to use every day. “You got a little kiss mark…” I wiped at my own cheek to express where it was, a huge, embarrassed smile on my face.
I had kissed him in my sleep, and it was a massive smooch at that.
He wiped it off aggressively, narrowing his eyes at me. "Thank you, I just love lipstick on my face but I don't think this is my color," he said sarcastically. But at my bright smile he couldn’t help but soften his features. “You’re even a tease in your sleep then.”
What is that suppose to mean? I'm a tease? He's the one that wears butt-hugging pants every day and does his daily stretches in his chair that just happen to emphasize his massively-muscled chest!
David plumped back onto the couch taking the position next to my feet. He leaned against it wiping at his eyes in a tire manner. “I was sleeping so well, and you woke me up,” he told me, almost whining in the process.
I was really just adorable.
He pursed his lips and put a hand slowly through his dark brown hair. I figured texture of it must have been soft because as he trailed through it the hair slowly went back into place. “Now I won’t be able to go back to sleep because I have a ringing in my ears.” He turned to me, annoyance in his eyes. “What the hell did you even dream about to make you scream that loud?”
Little did David know how close he was to answering his own question, just by using the word ‘Hell’.
“I just had a nightmare.” I pulled the blanket from under David’s Butt and wrapped myself in it. He shook his head at my snuggled position, laughing to himself.
“A nightmare?”
“That’s what I said.”
“So…I’m guessing you screamed because you were scared?” David questioned, with a raise of an eyebrow. “It was a little unnecessary to scream in my ear and push me off the couch, just because of a nightmare. Don’t you think?”
I covered my mouth, my eyes wide in shock. “I pushed you off the couch too?”
He scratched his head in the back making it stand up.“Yup.”
“Maybe you were still suffocating me in one of your bear hugs and my brain knew to push you away from me. I bet you thought I was your blanket," I said, smiling. I realized that I was flirting with David of all people and quickly dropped it.
“You’re funny," David said, exaggerating his laughter and throwing me into a fit of giggles "I’ll have to remember that when you drive me crazy and I decide to throw you from this building."
I got up close to his face, smirking. "I don't think your blanky will be pleased if you do that," I whispered.
David's eyebrows rose, and it was then reached under the blanket and started to poke my side.
“HEY!” I screamed, laughing hysterically. I pulled away but he already pulled my legs towards him so he could attack my feet. He held down my arms as he tickled my nonstop anywhere there was open skin.
“No…no stop!” I gasped out, giggling so much my face had to be beat red.
“Apologize, Miss Williams!”
I"Never!"
I was honestlyp suprised he wasn't laughing as hard as I was, but it didn't stop me from pulling his hair lightly as he put me in a headlock and continued to tickle me. His thumb abruptly grazed the most ticklish spot on my ribs and I couldn't help but squeal loudly.
I never expected we'd ever be in this position, I thought to myself.
When David finally got me out of a headlock and looked down at me, his hair sticking up in all directions from my fingers, he was smiling like a little devil. "I think I know where you're tickle spot is, Miss Williams," he breathed into my face.
My hair was over my face as I looked up at him. “You lie!”
“Oh yeah? You’re really willing to take that chance?” David questioned, his chocolate eyes dancing playfully over my face. “What I'm about to do could possibly scar you for life...that is, unless, if you apologize for kicking me onto the floor."
I realized he had managed to trap my arms as he was talking.
“David,” I said sternly, starting to panic. “David, I swear--"
“Apologize for making me face plant into the floor, Williams,” he sang, his voice reverberating in a husky way. My eyes instinctively dropped to his lips as he spoke. “This is your last—“
I reached up and gave him a peck on the lips. He froze in shock, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he was the one that leaned closer.
I took note that David's lips were softer than I thought they would be and warm. His lips weren't chapped, or cracked, but smooth. From the stiffness of the entire kiss I knew we were both stunned that our lips had ever touched--since we had been bickering from the day we met.
We pulled back quickly at the realization of what we were doing. David Star? I had kissed David Star, the man I had clipped out his face in my magazines, only a year before, and hung a picture up in my room to throw darts at it. The man who Marcy was utterly obsessed with. Who everyone was obsessed with.
“—chance,” David had finished. He blinked slowly down at me and his expression was entirely readable. He regretted it.
“That...that was my fault," I blurted, feeling the warm blush on my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I um...I guess that was bound to happen at some point, right?" I got up from the couch, fixing my blouse. David's expression of regret still stayed. But why did he regret it so much? “
“Faith..." David blew out softly, eyes moving to the window behind him as he scrubbed his jaw. His next words would leave tears stinging in my eyes. "That...that can't happen again. I have a girlfriend."
Oh wow...
I tried not to show how hurt that sentence made me, by letting my long bangs that I always pushed back, for the first time, fall in front of my face and cover at least a portion of my hurt expression.
“It’s my fault anyways,” I said softly, crossing my arms over my chest. David was still looking away from me. “I’m sorry that I...put you in that position."
“Don't be sorry,” David said, standing up to his full height and shockingly making eye contact with me. But as our eyes made contact his twitched away, and David ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “Damn it, that really shouldn’t have happened. I let it happen
“I’m sorry,” I repeated once again, having no idea what to say next. My eyes danced across the room hitting ever object but him as I talked. I gave him an awkward wave and hoping he didn't see the thick rim of tears in my eyes. “I’ll--I'll see you tomorrow,” I managed to rush out, before turning away from him.
“Faith, wait," David replied. In one fluid motion, he reached out and grabbed my wrist, gently trying to stop me.
“It’s ok. I'm fine,” I told him, avoiding the chocolate, dreamy eyes of David Star. I tugged my wrist until it was freed from his tightening grip.
I heard David sigh heavily as I walked at a fast pace to the door. I pulled the heavy thing open, leaving the man I clearly had feelings for all along, behind.
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I arrived at my house at one in the afternoon with the puffiest eyes to ever be seen on this planet.
I had walked home from work that day because I was too upset to take the taxi. The taxi drivers would have just thought I was annoying sniffing and puffing about my Boss in the car and then randomly going on about tampons--as I did one day with Tom the Taxi driver.
What a great guy…
The vague sound of something rustling welcomed me as my heels hit the wooden floors of my apartment.
“Hello?” I asked the house.
Good idea, Faith because absolutely nothing goes wrong when you ask if anyone’s in the house.
“I swear…if this guy is tall dark and scythey’ I’m going to kick his ass,” I mumbled to myself while monitoring every movement in the apartment.
I kept my gaze in all the corners of the room, blindly moving my hand to check the cross to the right of the door. I felt the wooden shape of it and let out a sigh of relief. It was so strange of Marcy to just take down the cross that I figured the hooded man forced her to do it. He must have used some sort of manipulation because I knew for a fact that Marcy would want a detailed explanation as to why she was suppose to take it down.
Maybe she really just let him in for the heck of it. She always was the outgoing type.
I threw my keys onto the counter as I walked past it to get to my room. That day wasn’t as rainy it had been but it was still a bit cloudy, so I switched the hallway lights on…and every other light I could find. I threw my heels off as I entered my room and pushed my hair back into a pony. My clothes left my body quicker than a race car, being replaced by sweatpants and a black camisole. Next I started to unhook the clasp on my golden necklace.
Since I had trimmed my nails the other day I couldn’t get anything under the hook. It would slide of my stub-of-a-nail and I would have to start over again. “Ugh,” I muttered, looking into the mirror to see what I was doing.
I let out a frightened scream, almost worse than when I woke from my nightmare. In the process I broke the necklace I was trying to unclasp.
But I didn’t care at that moment.
I let out a curse, and turned to face the cloak. It looked a lot bigger in the lighting, and let me tell you, a lot scarier. The cloak seemed to almost absorb every inch of darkness in the room, becoming separate from the light. I could see the re-usable hook that ‘Death’ must have put on my wall while I was sleeping.
I’m really starting to wonder if his Mother actually named him Death, or if his name is just somethingembarrassing like Eugine, or Herold-Lee Jr.
As I watched the cloak on it’s hanger I started to get an unnerving feeling. I couldn’t put my finger on it but there was just…something about that cloak. It was so un-moving it was almost as if it was forcing itself not to move. The sleeves looked stiff and not weakly dangling as most clothes would hang.
I walked around the cloak carefully, trying to see if there was a way to get it down. As I neared the edge of the wall I could see there was absolutely no sign of a hook, and the cloak was still in the form of a man as it hung from the ceiling. Of course I tried to reach behind the sketchy robe and find a notch in the wall, maybe a string on the hid.
“Ok wow,” I mumbled, realizing the hood was standing up on itself. I backed up until I hit the edge of my room’s window.
It was floating in mid air the whole time.
Was this even possible? How was it levitating in the air? But then again, how was the Grim Reaper real. How were angels real?
As my eyes drifted over the clothing, I found myself walking closer to it again. The cloak was so large I had to stand on my bed to reach the head of the costume. I poked the side of the costume to see if it would give in at all, but the fabric stayed stiff, levitating off the floor. The midnight-black material had some kind of pink paper inside of the hood. I frowned, carefully putting my hand into the hood.
Please, let nothing grab me, I prayed, feeling around in the fabric. What if he left his scythe with me too? What would I do then, play Death for a day? This was the stupidest idea I had yet, but I had to get some ideas. There had to be a reason he left this thing in my room.
God, this thing just continues to give me the Hebe jibes!
My pointer finger felt something in the hood making me latch onto it completely. I pulled out a pink piece of paper, and started to unfold it. In pretty neat, cursive handwriting was a long message. But what caught my attention first was the excellently drawn noose at the edge of the paper, and the small gun drawn in the bottom right corner.
“You have to be kidding me,” I groaned, hesitatingly reading the paper.
Cupcake,
It was so easy to get into your house, thanks to that sweet little Marcy. I told her I was allergic to crosses, and she didn’t even blink when she took it down. She should really get another IQ check I think she might have some problems there...
Laugh out loud! You thought I would give you my scythe didn’t you!? Nah, that’s for the big boys, Baby. But seriously, take care of my cloak for me. Not that you have a choice this thing is seriously demanding when it comes to attention.
Anyways, as you know it’s been raining a lot, and I just got this thing sent to the dry cleaners. All that is un-holy, that shit is expensive! I’m serious when I say to take care of it, or else it legit follows you around giving you bad luck, taking lolly pops from babies, annoying you to no end, humming too you. Yeah the damn thing hums when you try and ignore it, you can actually trust me on that one.
Hell Babe, it probably already started pissing you off right? Just the little things it does is suppose to annoy me, since technically it’s part of a huge curse I have. Just don't get me started with that story I always end up chopping someones head off in the process. As I was saying, has it creepily turned its hood towards you yet or follow you into the bathroom? No? Oh, well it will so don’t worry.
If I were you, I would fold it up, tell it a bedtime story-- preferably massacre stories or even gore/zombie/ghost stories where the ending isn't happy. Maybe put the covers over it just to be safe. No night lights though, it does NOT like light and will probably find a way to turn off all the lights in the apartment.
Whatever you do Faith-a-roo, don’t put my cloak on. I’m telling you, you’ll regret it big time. (Put it on bitch.)
That’s really all I have to say, besides the fact that if you do by any chance freak out and try and stab my baby, it will probably strangle you like a Anaconda hungry for some squirrel. But that was obviously implied being what the freaking thing is, right?
Don’t tell it I said that it's sensitive...
-Hottie
P.S- I want my ring back, so take it off your damn chubby thumb finger after you make sure to rub it in some dirt because I for one don’t want it to smell like you. I’ll come and collect for the cloak when I want I back, so you better give it to me because I probably really need it.
After I read the novel-lengthen letter from Death himself, I crumbled the note in my fist. Had he really taken the take to write me that letter? Why would he leave his cloak here in the first place?!
“UGH!”
I threw the note at the edge of the room, before flipping off the cloak in front of me. Had he written this letter before he contacted me in the dream? Did he really need the cloak for something?
Am I probably going to dig myself into a deeper hole of Hell?
One thing was for sure, I wasn’t letting anyone intimidate me anymore. This was just another one of this ‘Death’ characters, attempts to scare me shit less. I for one wanted to know why he was popping out of nowhere all the time, why he was trying to kill me constantly, and why he thought I would give his freaky-ass robe back once he pulled a magic trick and levitated it up in my room.
He could get the damn robe himself.