Chapter 13 #2
This is Act Two, and by far the longest of every piece of media that follows the three-act story structure. We have at least another hour of footage to go through.
Danny licks the pad of his thumb and rubs it on my left cheek, I assume to scrub off the blood, but I still frown.
“Are you spreading spit all over my face?”
He stops what he’s doing, tilting his head.
“Well, you have some dried blood here. It was using my spit or using some of the mop water from the corner. Considering this is Theta and they’re not exactly known for their high standards of hygiene, it seemed like the better option,” he justifies the train of thought behind his choice.
The laughter that escapes me catches me by surprise.
I didn’t think I had it in me to laugh after the night we’ve had, but holy hell.
This is entirely ridiculous. There’s a level of stupidity in certain acts and choices tonight.
It’s hard to think of everything so seriously when there’s a bunch of tiny events making everything seem surreal.
Like comedic timing purposefully done to cater to an audience that doesn’t exist.
Danny joins me, chuckling under his breath as he continues to scrub the blood off my face, simultaneously using his shirt and thumb until I assume I’m all clean. He smooths down his shirt and gives my cheek a gentle and playful squeeze.
“You’re all better now,” he says, offering me a tight-lipped smile.
I take a moment to stare at him, observing every single detail of his disheveled look now that I have the chance.
His pants have traces of blood in them, probably from when he found Elodie’s body in the living room, and red stains cover the hem of his shirt from cleaning my face.
The golden undertone of his skin is a shade paler, almost as if he’s sick.
Though, all things considered, we must all look like that.
He’s just a bit better at keeping it together than I am, and I think he’s doing it for my sake.
It’s in his nature to nurture those around him.
His hair is tousled as if he has been running his fingers through it, unloading the stress from the night.
Or it might be from my own fingers when he had his face buried between my thighs earlier tonight.
Good grief, how was that merely an hour or so ago?
It feels like ages have passed since we kissed in Carmen’s room. And did a lot more than that.
A shiver runs down my spine when I remember how good his smooth tongue felt on me.
I shouldn’t be having inappropriate and horny thoughts about Danny when we’re in this situation, when there are bigger things to be worried about right now.
Besides, there’s another major rule in the how-to-survive-a-slasher handbook: Don’t have sex.
Every time a character starts to have sex at any point during the movie, they end up dying, or nearly dying.
I don’t want that.
And yet . . .
“Danny,” I whisper his name.
“Yes?”
“Would you kiss me?” I feel my cheeks burning as the words roll off my tongue. “Even though my face is covered in your dry spit.”
Danny snorts at my comment. I’m glad we manage to find humor in this situation because otherwise I would be going insane. Cracking bad jokes and laughing at moments I shouldn’t is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.
“Of course, baby.”
He doesn’t wait for my response. His hands carefully cradle my face, the tips of his fingers caress the nape of my neck, and he dives in to press his mouth to mine.
I welcome the warmth and softness of his lips.
I’m completely submerged into the bliss caused by the kiss.
It’s exactly what I need to forget everything I’ve seen tonight.
The gentle pressure of his mouth causes sparks to explode in my brain.
I melt against his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him closer.
For a moment, I completely lose myself in the kiss, following his lead as he tastes me once again, parting my lips with his tongue.
Quickly, our kiss goes from gentle to passionate, savoring each other while we still can.
Only for a minute.
Reluctant to part from the one thing keeping me going, I break away from his mouth, and his head trails me down, desperate for more. I ache for him. There’s nothing I would rather be doing right now, but there are more important things happening.
Because I can’t let this go farther than this.
Not when I still need to find Carmen and Cerys.
“We can’t,” I say against his lips. “We can’t stay here all night.”
There’s nothing else I would rather be doing with my time. Lord knows I would stay here with him, sharing kisses and hugs until the authorities catch this bastard, but I can’t.
“I know,” he mumbles in acknowledgement.
Still, we don’t move immediately. It’s possible it might be the last time we get to hold each other.
I need to stop being pessimistic. I might accidentally manifest my death.
It’s not what I should be doing. But I’ve never been great at holding my faith in the universe or whatever forces are above us.
There’s a part of me that believes in something, but I have many conflicting thoughts that overshadow those beliefs.
“Carmen had a plan before. She thought it was best if we tried to find weapons to defend ourselves from the killer, and I think she was right. But Cupid caught up with us and . . . I had to distract him and give them a chance.”
Danny frowns.
“You’re not doing that again,” he snaps in a firm voice.
“What?”
“Sacrificing yourself for everyone else,” he clarifies, holding my hands.
He squeezes them three times as he says, “I would go out of my mind if anything happened to you, Mabel. I just got you back. I refuse to let you sacrifice yourself like that ever again. Do you understand? Promise me you won’t do it again. ”
I hadn’t thought about how he would feel. I didn’t think about anything other than increasing Carmen’s odds. I can’t choose between him or Carmen, which means I can’t promise him that. If it’s between me and Carmen, I’ll always choose her. My entire system is wired to ensure her well-being.
“Danny, I can’t promise you that,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, you have to.”
“Or what?” I dare, arching a brow.
I step back and cross my arms over my chest.
Danny doesn’t have an ounce of controlling behavior in his body. He’s reacting out of desperation and it’s not helping him see things clearly. He knows me better than most people ever will. He knows there’s nothing he can say that will make me change my mind.
Not about this.
His shoulders slouch with defeat. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, massaging his neck with his right hand. He lets it drop to his side as he flexes his fingers. “The thought of you becoming a martyr isn’t something I can accept easily. I just got you back,” he repeats.
My heart breaks for him.
Why can’t things be easier for us? I hope there’s another timeline where Danny and I get to have a soft and lighthearted college romance and get to spend our lives together without any of the added troubles.
My vocal cords twist into a knot. I grab his hand and kiss every single one of his knuckles. He releases a shuddering breath.
“And I just got you back,” I agree in a whisper, barely managing not to burst into tears again. “I wish we had more time to discuss this properly, but there’s no time to waste. My sister is out there somewhere, hopefully not doing anything stupid, and Cerys is with her.”
“Mabs,” he calls softly. “I know you will do anything for Carmen, but don’t sacrifice yourself without thinking it through.
If it’s not necessary, don’t take the risk.
Keeping Carmen alive is important, but so are you.
And you have me by your side. No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you. Don’t ever forget that.”
My throat closes up and I have to blink rapidly to keep the emotions at bay.
Without any words, I rise on my toes and pull him into a kiss.
The kiss doesn’t last longer than a second.
But it’s enough to spread a wave of bliss through my limbs.
I need it to prepare for what’s to come.
Slowly, I pull away from him. The ghost of his hot mouth leaves a tingle vibrating on my lips.
I rub the tips of my fingers along my mouth until the otherworldly feeling dissipates. I command my body to settle down.
It’s time to burst the bubble.
Danny lets out a small but longing sigh. His expression full of yearning.
Why did tonight have to end up being a fucking slasher plot twist? We should be enjoying this new development in our relationship. Kissing in dark corners because we want privacy and not because we’re hiding from a murderer.
“Mabel,” he draws my name out as he leans his forehead against mine. One of his thumbs makes its way to my bottom lip, caressing it. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay here?”
I shake my head. “You know I can’t. It’s too risky.”
“I can protect you. I will protect you,” he corrects himself, and when he looks at me, I see the desperation plastered in his sweet eyes. “Please. I can protect Carmen too. What if you stay here while I go to look for her?”
“Protect Carmen?” I scoff. “In what universe would Carmen allow you to protect her?” I enquire, arching a brow. The corners of my lips threaten to curve into a smirk. “She barely allows me to. Besides, I don’t think she would trust you.”
His forehead knits into a frown, seemingly taken aback by my comment.
“Why?”
“Carmen doesn’t trust anyone.”
It’s a truth, nothing personal.
Carmen simply doesn’t place her trust in people.
His charming golden-boy persona won’t earn him any points with her, especially after she caught us in her room in an inappropriate position. I don’t think my sister would choose to voluntarily trust him in this situation regardless.
Hell, she barely even trusts me.