Maybe, I've lost my touch.
Maybe, this was a stupid thing to do.
Maybe, Daxon isn't the right guy for my wants.
We hop out of Daxon's small minivan, by the forest. An old apartment building is slightly visible through the trees.
"You live there?"
He nods.
"It looks bad but it's homey." He shrugs, beginning his walk towards it. I trail close to him.
I didn't even know this existed in our town and I've lived here all my life.
My eyes wander to the trees on either side of the establishment as we walk on a narrow path through a dense forest.
Bugs buzz near my ears but I make no move to swat them. Some might be real and others might just be in my head, but I'm not going to keep smacking the side of my face to find out.
Dusk hangs in the evening sky as Daxon unlocks the door to his home. It opens and he flicks on the light and a case of old carpeted stairs is revealed.
"Do other people live here?" I ask as we head up.
"No, I'm friends with the landowners so they let me stay here free." We stop at another door at the top of the steps.
"Friends leave their friends to live in an empty apartment building surrounded by a forest?" Daxon unlocks the door, steps to the side, gesturing me to go in before him.
"The people who are after me, aren't stupid enough for me to just hide in plain sight." I move inside. into a dark black room.
The door shuts and I'm pushed further into the home.
Silence entraps the house, eerily and creeping, drowning us.
The lights finally turn on and Daxon stands inches away from my face, as I regain my vision.
"Boo." He spits at me, as I stare blankly at him.
"Maybe don't breathe so loud and I'll fake being scared or something," I say, pushing his face away from mine.
He gets so close, so often, I'm not even flustered anymore. I never was, to be honest.
I do like him closer than farther away, though.
I scan the room before me and my eyes widen at its simplicity.
One bed in the center, a counter and the stove to the left, and to the right a closet and a door I think leads to the bathroom.
A studio thing, pretty much.
I glance over at him as he hovers close to my side.
It doesn't seem like his style.
He walks around me, sitting on his bed and patting the space next to him.
"Are you just going to stand there?" He ask, slightly bouncing on the mattress.
It could be dangerous getting on a bed with this guy.
"Don't be all touchy or whatever. I'm not here for that." I walk slowly over.
I don't even know what I'm here for.
He smirks and leans back against his headboard. His eyes still hold the coldness they always do.
I don't know what he's agreeing with me for either.
"You want answers to questions and I'm here to provide. Sit."
I do, across the bed from him.
"Why are you helping me?" I ask. He pauses, as his gaze turns left.
"Why do you want my help?"
I don't even know what help that is, everything is too general. That's why I'm here.
"What Is your 'help'?" He shakes his head.
"I love a good tennis match in conversations but I need to know you aren't playing around." His tone darkens.
I scoff. That's fair.
"I want to do my own thing. Let's just say I'm only talking to you out of a sense of teen rebellion." I bring up my knee and fold it on his bed, facing him.
His eyebrows rise and he sits up.
"That's perfect. I guess you can say that's what landed me here too." His eyes stare into mine and as does mine.
A silent match begins as I wait for him to elaborate and he watches me.
I sigh. I won't push it.
"So why am I in a forest in some abandoned building with you? Why'd you ask to meet me?"
"You said you wanted your own Moe, right? You want to be the one behind the bullet but do you know how to use a gun?"
He has a point. I've seen plenty of videos and practiced with a banana but that might not be helpful.
I shrug.
He claps his hands together and stands up.
"I'll take that as a 'no'." I shrug again. I know a little bit.
"I'll train you or whatever you want to call it." He stretches his thighs, pulling back his ankle.
Train me?
"What do you mean?" I ask, standing as well. Both his feet hit the ground.
"I want you to be my bodyguard." He takes small steps towards me.
"Bodyguard?" I tilt my head at him.
"Yeah, my bodyguard, as in you keep me from getting hurt." He stops in front of me.
He wants to use me so he can protect himself. That sounds great.
"What am I protecting you from?" I look up at him, raising a brow.
Daxon is too shady for me to just go along with what he's saying and throw my life away at the frontlines of whatever war he's involved in.
"Hitmen." His eyes bore into mine. I smirk.
That's exactly what I hoped for.
"Moe was a hitman?" I ask.
"In the flesh." Daxon passes me, going to his small kitchen area.
"You want me to deal with guys like him?"
"You're the one you said you wanted one of them to kill. I needed one anyway." He pours himself some coffee.
"Are they trying to kill you?" I watch as he pulls another cup out.
"Yes, hence the term 'hitman'."
"So why didn't Moe shoot you?"
A pause.
"Because he's dumbass who doesn't know how to do his job." He sets the coffee down, leaving my cup ready on the counter.
His usual demeanor cracks for a second.
"You feel bad you killed him?" I ask, walking towards him. He shakes his head.
"No, I'm surprised it felt so good to do. I hated that man." His tone and expression returns to normal.
I said I wouldn't push.
"Whatever, how are we training?" Training is such an ugly word. I just want to learn how to fight that's all.
"We'll start probably next week, I'm still not sure you're really as up to this as you seem." He puts his hand on his chin. I roll my eyes.
"We'll have to find out won't we?" I take a swing of the bitter, mouth cringing drink, squeezing my eyes shut.
Life is all about discipline, and I'm bored waiting for mine.
He leans into me again.
"What?" I ask, glaring at him.
"I need you to be on my side no matter what the hitmen tell you about me. Seriously." He stares at me intensely as I blink at him.
He keeps repeating that.
"Am I getting paid for saving your life?" The aftertaste of the coffee stains my mouth.
"You could be if you want to be." He shrugs.
"Alright, let's start by choosing you a weapon." He smiles hard suddenly, turning and going into his closet. I follow close behind him.
"What do you have some armory in your closet..." I draw off as he opens the closet to behold rack after rack of weapons.
"I told you I need you to protect me now, how do you think I've been surviving before this?"
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341 ~ 8/1/20
Another chapter out! I'm happy to see where this story is going.
Next chapter out soon.
Bye bye.