We knew that voice instantly. For a single beat, Abel tensed, but instead of releasing me, his grip tightens, pulling me deeper into his chest as if he's shielding me from whoever's calling.
"Jessica!"
The voice gets louder, footsteps getting closer, and so is the panic crawling up my spine.
"Abel, let me go," I hissed, squirming against his unyielding chest. But it's like struggling against a stone wall. "We can't be seen like this."
"Why can't we?"
My silence is louder than his whisper. "Abel, we both know how Naomi feels about you."
"Jessica, we both know it isn't Naomi out there calling for you."
"Yes, but-how do you think Naomi will feel if Beatrice told her what she saw?"
He gently strokes my forearm with his thumb, and a forbidden warmth spreads through me, battling the icy dread growing in my stomach. As much as I crave his arms around me, I can't get caught like this. Especially not by Beatrice.
"Beatrice is a blabbermouth, Abel. Please, think about Naomi."
"I don't care about any other woman except you, Jessica," he murmurs, his voice thrumming through my body. "I don't care about Naomi. "
"Well, I do," I insist, but my voice is weak. "Now let me go."
His head dips, breath hot against my cheek as he closes the little space between our faces to arrest my gaze. His eyes shift from its usual calm blue to dark and intense. And I-of all people know that look.
It's the look he used just before he delivered a cold, hard truth. Or a threat.
"If I let go... I'm going to pull the curtains and kiss you."
My breath hitch. "Abel..."
"Should I let go, Jessica?" He holds my gaze, daring me to choose.
I bite my lip. I do want to kiss him. The thought of seizing his lips with mine is nothing but an insistent ache that has lived inside me for so long.
But Beatrice.
If I say no, he'll get the impression that Beatrice matters more than him-that alone, would ruin everything I have planned. And If I say yes, Beatrice will think I've moved on. She'd be heartbroken because of me-again.
Again, I thought I had the upper hand, but this oversized kid keeps tying me around his finger. Is there any other way to kiss him without Beatrice seeing? I swore not to use my powers on her, but what choice do I have?
"In the absence of an answer, I'll take your silence as a no-"
"Yes."
His brows lift slightly. "Yes what?"
"Kiss me. But keep the curtains closed."
I meet his gaze fully, daring now. "And yes-I rubbed all over Beatrice. Not because I wanted her. Because I wanted to get you jealous enough to admit you want me too. And now you have. You have, Abel."
His grip loosens. I seize the moment and turn in his arms. "Come back inside. We have plenty of time to talk-after the party. Please."
Good. Now we're both trapped.
"Jessica? You there?!"
Beatrice's hand curves around the edge of the curtains. Just as she's about to slide them open, a huge flap of wings tears through the air. And I don't bother to look, I know that's Abel, flying away. Awesomely.
"Jessica?" She steps into the balcony, and instantly wraps her arm around herself, shivering. "What the-jesus, what are you doing out here? It's freezing!"
It's almost funny, watching her struggle not to chatter her teeth. With a faint smile, "It's not that cold."
She scurries closer, moving into my space as if searching for a warm spot.
"What are you talking about? It's even colder over here." She rubs against her leather jacket with frantic energy.
A low chuckle rumbles in my throat. That's odd-only moments ago, I felt strangely warm. Where does this biting cold come from so suddenly? I shake my head.
"Well, then it's a good thing you have a jac-" she shucks off her jacket, then drapes it over my shoulders before the last word could leave my mouth. "-ket." I finished, blinking in surprise.
"What?" She guides my arm gently into the sleeve. Then brush a speck of phantom dust from the shoulder. "This isn't the first time I'm lending you my jacket."
"No. But..."
Memories flood back, not in a calm wave but a jarring rush; her confused face when I returned from class without the jacket she lent out. Then returned from the mall the next day with Louis Vuitton chopping bags. Guess what's inside -jackets. Lots and lots of jackets.
A sad, heavy thing forms in my chest now. I didn't mean to lose them, but... I just do. And yet she never stopped, even now, she keeps lending me her jackets -her jackets that I never once see her wear.
"Isn't this one your favorite?" My voice sounds small, almost sad. "You shouldn't give it to me."
Adjusting my collar, "Why not?" As her cold fingers touch my skin, her breath catches. Just a sharp intake of air. It doesn't mean anything. Right?
I meet her eyes, locking them with mine. "I might misplace it again, Bea."
She places her hand on mine, her touch... icy. "Don't take it off!" she pleads.
I click my tongue once. "If you clatter your teeth any more, they might just fall off." I peel off the jacket, feeling the immediate chill of the night, and hand it to her. "You need it more than me."
She looks down at the jacket in my hand, exhaling sharp fogs of breath into the air. "Is there anything you want to say to me before I leave?"
My hand drops to my side, still holding the jacket. I knew this talk was going to happen tonight. But I didn't know it would be out here, on the balcony. Great.
I exhale softly, the breath misting in front of my face. "I'm sorry about the other day. I yelled at you, knowing how much you hate to be scolded."
She scoffs, looking up, then down, then at me. "Anything else?"
I scratch my temple. What else? Does she want me to get down on my knees too? Because I will.
I drop to my knees. "And i'm sorry for... losing your jackets. Allow me to pay for their costs-"
A grunt is all it takes and her hand slams across my face. A deafening sting follows. For a brief moment, I hear a high-pitched squeal echoing in my ears, then absolute silence.
I'm on my feet in an instant, probing my ear with my index finger, the other hand is pressed against the burning spot on my cheek. Who knew those tiny hands could deliver a good slap? And why?
I rub the sore spot. "Bea..." I look up to catch her eye, but instead, I see a small pile of black ash settled on where she stood, with a wisp of smoke curling upwards.
The panic in my chest gives in and I quickly tug at the timeline. Then snap my fingers, stopping the time exactly three minutes ago when she asked:
"Anything else?"
I scratch my temple again, buying time. I know everything, but I don't know exactly what this woman wants me to say.
"Bea..."
She looks up at the sky, then back at me, her expression softening. "Okay. How about I give you a hint."
I give a slow, cautious nod, dreading what's coming. I hope it's not what I think it is.
"I... still love you," she says, her voice is soft and careful, as if testing the temperature of cold water. "I am still in love with you, Jessica Pearce. And I never stopped loving you, just like I never stopped getting you those jackets. I love you, even until now. Even with Francis or without him."
So, it is what I'm thinking.
Taking two steps back. I can't get hit again for what I'm about to say or not say. "Beatrice... please, don't do this-"
She's taking three steps forward, closing the distance I created. We're so close now, it's almost as if we're sharing the same air, the same cold, the same breathless anticipation. I feel trapped, a different kind of trapped than with Abel, but trapped all the same.
I can't kiss her, can I? I shouldn't think of kissing her -I won't stop. But... this moment is so wrong, I can't think of any other good things.
"I think what you're supposed to say... is that you love me too," her breath ghost across my face. "Just as much as I love you. That you still love me, and that you never stopped loving me."
"Damn you, Beatrice. What do you want from me still?" My voice is pressed into a plea, instead of a snarl -because I am angry. " I hurt you because I never said those words, remember? Further pushing you to Francis, and here you are again, asking for something you know I might never give."
"But why won't you just say you love me?" Her voice shakes, like she's trying to contain herself and that's enough to make me break from the inside.
"Because-because I can't, I-I'm trying not to hurt you, Bea..."
"Jessica, I don't think you could hurt me any more than when you don't say those words. Jes, I don't want to read them on paper, I want to hear you say them."
I meet her gaze carefully and bright grey eyes, gleaming with unshed tears stares back at me. I can't lose her too -she's the next precious thing I want to keep alive. And I mean it. I love her too much to curse her. But why won't she just see my love for her. Why isn't she content with what we already have? Why must I say those hurtful, retched words first before she believes me?
"Isn't my actions enough? Thinking about you happens all the time, more than I think about Rollins. I want you more than I ever wanted a toy to play with. Isn't that enough?"
"Three years, Jes. That's how long we've been together, that's how long I've waited to hear those words. So no, it is not enough." She takes a step back, and I almost reach out to pull her closer. "Say you love me, Jessica. And make me the happiest person on earth." A tear streaks down her cheek, then another, and another, until she's sniffing. "Please. Do this one for me. Please?"
I nod slowly, locking my gaze with hers through the blur of her tears, then dragging the deepest breath I've ever taken-because once I start talking, I can't stop until it's all out.
"I love you, Beatrice Swamp. God help me, I love everything about you. I love you clutching that Bible like a lifeline, and I love you more when you throw it aside for me. I love you when you moan my name mid-prayer, when you curse before saying amen. I love you for never letting go of me even when I did, and I love you more knowing you'll keep loving me after this. I love your hair when it's wet, your smell after sex, your eyes when they dare me, your breath on my neck, your lips when they burn against mine, your touch when you torment me, the way you walk, the way you knit your brows when you're thinking too hard, like the way you think you can carry my pain when you don't even know what it weighs. Your smile... "
Something drips down her cheek - not tears, but blood.
"Fuck!"
It's running from every hole in her head now; her ears, eyes, nose... I'm killing her. But yet, she still manages to dip her head.
"I love you, Bea! I love you and as much as it kills me, I'm pulling the switch. On you -on us. Goodbye, love-"
Blood spatters across my face, hot, thick and metallic before the remains crumples. I wipe blood from my eyes, spitting out the sticky tissue and gore that entered my mouth. My gaze is fixed on the mess of her remains and I can't even recognize what part of her insides I'm looking at.
I've never enjoyed gazing up at the sky, because the sky has always been painted in a sad red; covered in people's blood who died knowing what I am. And tonight, Beatrice has simply added another layer to the color.
My eyes fall back to the ground. Her only mistake was not knowing what she fell for. But I won't hold that against her,
so, with a sigh, I tug at the timeline again.
This time yanking the clock back, before the nose bleeds. Before the forced confession. Before she ever stepped out onto this balcony. Then I snap my fingers.
Again, she takes the curtains, and before she pulls them aside, a huge flap of wings and Abel is gone.
"Jessica-"
"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" I call, but before I reach the handle, the door slides open. I mutter. "Yay... it's Beatrice."
She gives me that look - the one adults reserve for kids who think they're clever. "First Abel, now you? What were you doing on the balcony?"
"Nothing!" I say quickly. "Just... getting some fresh air. Watching the night sky. Taking a piss-whatever."
Her nose twitches, like she can actually smell the lie - or the piss. "Taking a piss?"
"And watching the stars," I add with a crooked grin, then chuckle.
She chuckles too, but her brows stay pinched, "Come on, everyone's looking for you."
I don't waste another breath. I brush past her, heading for the bedroom door. I hold the door open, let her pass first, before shutting it behind us.
The living room erupts with cheers and whoops the second we step in. The kind of over-the-top welcome they'd give a celebrity couple making a grand entrance. Faces turn, flushed and curious, and my eyes scan the crowd-until they stop on Abel.
He's sitting there with Naomi on his lap, one arm around her shoulder, the other braced across her front like he's tucking her in for the night.
I bite back a laugh, but it slips out anyway. "Naomi," I say sweetly, "can you breathe?"
Because with Abel's stone heavy arm across you like that -on a woman he has no interest in, it's not a guarantee.
Every head swivels toward them at once. The room bursts into giggles, phones rising like a swarm of locusts. Shutters click, flashes pop.
"Sure," she says, her voice tight, "go ahead - take your selfies. But if you're posting them on the school blog, at least use a hashtag that slaps."
I cross my arms. "Better yet, ask Abel first if he's ready to have his face plastered everywhere."
"Abel's cool with it," she says with a lazy wave, dismissing me like I'm background noise.
"Are you sure?" My tone drops. "You don't want him disappearing on you again, do you...?"
The words hit her like an electric jolt. She snaps upright.
"Fine! Take your selfies, but don't you dare upload them. I repeat - do not upload them. Or I'm hacking into your socials and announcing to the whole school that you're gay and crushing on your dads!" she wiggles her right brow, smiling as she falls back into Abel's chest.
Beatrice edges two careful steps away from me. In that case, I stroll toward Luther, fake-casual. "Is this seat taken?" I ask, though I'm already sliding down beside him.
His face goes cherry red, lips stretching so wide it's a wonder they don't touch his eyelids. "Yes-by you. Hello, pea pea." He winks.
Ugh, my eyes are rolling.
If there were any corpse in the room, I'd rather sit next to it than have to deal with Luther. Beatrice drops too, in between Rita and the fat kid-Chad.
God, I'd kill to be in Chad's seat right now. It would spare me from staring at Beatrice every two seconds, from remembering that she died just minutes ago.
That I killed her with my curse... Which automatically means I am finally free to move on now. I can move on now. But, it feels like my body doesn't believe me.
Suddenly, I feel a slick, oily chill trickling down my spine. I shift in my seat and then glance over my shoulder. Abel's gaze catches mine instantly-and he doesn't look away. He doesn't even blink. He just... offers me that quiet, knowing smile, like he already understands exactly what went down on the balcony.
"Jessica."
I hear his voice inside my head. I blink my eyes slowly, the world stretching in that brief pause before I open them again.
How... does he always know exactly what I want to hear? Sometimes, it feels as if he lives inside my head.