Frowns and glares shot her way cracking the formerly-frozen figures. Each shrill laugh cracked something more within me, the first thing I’d felt in ages. Annoyance? No. Excitement? Not quite.
All I knew was that suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Each breath was more labored than the last.
What the fuck?
Warmth ignited in my chest, a heatwave spreading as I struggled for air, Pukey eyeing me with wide eyes before scooting away, not wanting to catch whatever I had like he wasn’t a walking Petri dish himself.
He could only hope to catch such a thing, really, as the first deep breath brought me back to life, eyes still fixed on Plum.
Beautiful, perfectly imperfect Plum.
Full, pouty lips. Smooth, caramel skin. Sparkling hazel eyes. A ridiculous ‘do beginning to rebel against whatever she’d used to tame it, rain outing her as having naturally curly hair here and there.
Another laugh exploded, more lively than the last, the other riders not even shy about their disdain.
But I didn’t flinch.
The haze had lifted, clarity cutting through, making quick work of the weight that had been drowning me.
A silly girl flipped a switch that nothing had touched, barreling through the brick wall as if it were nothing - not the life-crushing force that had been beating me down.
And she’d done it all without saying a word.
It was madness.
Every laugh fed my soul; every smile stoked the flames. Stop after stop, we went along, and as the train slowed each time, I hoped she’d stay, not ready to lose her. I’d soak up her rays as long as I could, and I’d find a way to keep her sunshine pouring in.
I’d been unsure for so long, but one thing was finally clear.
At long last, I’d finally found my muse.
Ethan Two Years Later
“That’s a load of cat turds!”
A snarl of disgust followed from the sofa as Kee launched her book across the room. The paperback somersaulted through the air until it hit the wall next to the key rack, falling to land with a soft plop on the floor.
Ok then.
She’d been peacefully reading while I worked, her previous attempts at fixing her website leaving a jumbled mess of code for me to sort out. The author must’ve really pissed her off to make her toss one of her beloved book babies. Especially the latest in her favorite series.
“Everything good?” I asked, peering over her laptop from my perch at the kitchen island. Hopefully she wasn’t planning on throwing anything at me. I didn’t have the reflexes to dodge incoming fire after a long day.
“No!” She flew upright, hazel eyes wide like a woman possessed. “Everyone knows that vampires mate for life! Everyone!”
“Wait a minute…” I trailed, feigning shock with a hand splayed dramatically over my chest. “Are you saying…everyone?” It might not have been the brightest idea to poke the bear, but it’d be worth a book to the head.
“Yes!” Her arms flew high above her head, another aggravated roar exploding. “They don’t cheat on their soulmates! And that’s not how you end a four-book series!”
“Well, aren’t they undead? They can’t really mate for life then, right?” I couldn’t contain the grin tickling my lips, knowing the words would only push her buttons.
I could feel the daggers she shot from a mile away, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Oh hush it!”
“And do they have a soul? I thought that’s a human thing?” I smiled wider, deleting a stream of nonsense entered as a widget on her site. It wasn’t the problem, but it didn’t make sense either. She could’ve saved us both a lot of aggravation by asking for my help before testing out her coding skills, but Kee was Miss Independent to a T.
“Monte does - er- did! He was my book boyfriend for life until he turned into a cheating jerk!” She pressed her fingers to her temples in frustration, her powder-blue blouse riding up just enough for the soft planes of her stomach to show.
I grabbed my bottle of Barrett’s IPA to wash down the sudden knot in my throat. My brother’s signature brew did the trick, allowing me to speak rather than choke. “Wouldn’t you technically be just as guilty since he was the heroine’s boyfriend - not yours?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Shut up.” Each word was delivered with crisp precision, irritation painted across her face.
“There’s no rule book for make-believe, Kee. Authors can do whatever they please.” Technically anyone - real or imaginary - could do whatever they wanted, really. Well, everyone but me.
“Bullcrap! That author put me through HELL only to snatch my heart out for good at the last second!” She stalked to the fallen paperback in a huff, her flats slapping against the laminate floor.
“Don’t you read reviews?” I dared, already knowing the answer.
“NO!” she bellowed, snatching the book and holding it close to her chest. The same book we grabbed together at its midnight release a few days earlier.
I laughed, trying to walk the fine line between fun and fury with her. “Maybe you should start.”
She stomped into the kitchen, setting the book down with a loud smack on the countertop. “Spoilers suck, Eth, and so do you for thinking that Monte’s cheating is funny!”
Her sugary perfume followed, the small space overwhelmed with the scent of cupcakes and unicorns. Not that I knew what the fuck a unicorn smelled like, but sweet seemed about right.
I downed another gulp of beer trying to stifle it with bitter ale. “So do shitty surprise endings.”
“Amen.” She pouted, grabbing a grape from my bowl and popping it in her mouth. Her eyes closed as she did, savoring the fruit, the candy variety all she ever bought. Fitting, seeing that everything about her was syrupy sweet.
“But not
