Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“I don’t know how to respond to this?”
“You don’t have to respond in any way,” she says it like it’s simple. “I’m just telling you how wonderful I think you are.”
“I don’t deserve those sort of words right now,” I say to her then look over her shoulder out into the dark haunted house. “I also think it might be a good idea for us to get moving because we’re probably about to get murdered by about a billion zombies if we don’t keep moving, but what are you—”
She presses a finger to my lips.
“You talk more than I thought you would. You’re a lot of things I didn’t expect and almost everything I did,” she says, then drops the bomb on me like she’s discussing something as trivial as the weather. “I have leukemia and while the doctors are hopeful, I have a few more months, I kind of wanted to face my fears, and also see my idol.”
The world around is chaos.
Madness.
Mayhem.
But suddenly, it’s like we are the only two people in the world and I do what comes naturally to me. I don’t hesitate. I lean down and I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. I kiss her with the conviction that there are such things as miracles. I kiss her hard and soft, with passion—all of my passion—and in that kiss I hope she takes some of my strength—that she never loses hers or forgets this moment.
Because I know I never will.
When I finally pull away and look down at her, her eyes are still closed and she has that dreamy look on her face. Good. I want to see that there. I want to be her dream. I don’t want her to ever close her eyes but if and when she does, I hope to God it’s a memory like this.
She kissed her idol—I hope it was all she wanted it to be.
And maybe more.
And then I remember all the cameras and my role as the young innocent, Maknae and I almost laugh. God, how your life can really change in the course of a day… even hours. Going from one way to another.
But I don’t give a shit.
I’m done giving a shit. At least for now.
I kiss her again, just because I can, then pull back from her parted lips and whisper. “I’m rooting for you. And I will always be rooting for you.”
“That’s not allowed.” A tear runs down her cheek. “Kissing a fan.”
“I’m in my demon era.” I nod and give her a smile. “But also, despite the fact that we’re getting filmed and knowing that we aren’t in a relationship can’t a kiss just be a kiss because you deserve it? Because you need it? Because the world is a sad, dark place, and if you can offer one small thing, why not give it up?”
More tears stream down her cheeks. “The idol of idols.”
“What?”
She pats me on the shoulder. “Promise I won’t fall in love with you any more, but you are my idol of idols.”
“Because I kissed you?” I ask playfully trying to tone down the seriousness.
She shakes her head and grips my hand. “Because of hope. Because even though I’m dying, you gave me hope, and kindness…” And then she stops walking and faces me. “Fuck them all, Sookie. You belong to nobody but yourself and I hope whoever you’re in love with understands how precious and sacred you are. Because you are. You’re more than this idol. You are. Never forget that. Now let’s go fight some zombies.”
I smile despite tears burning in my eyes. This girl has touched me in a way I haven’t experienced in a long while and I don’t understand it at all, but then I guess I don’t have to. “I told you earlier, had I not already given my heart away, it would be yours,” I smile at her. “Maybe, friendship wise, it already is.”
She turns and smiles at me. “Of course it is.”
And then she breaks apart from me and spins toward what I’m assuming is more darkness and horror. She twirls actually, twice, and then turns with a smile. “Ready to win?”
I offer out my hand. “I think I already did.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ari
I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
What I’m being forced to see.
What I’m being tortured with—like this is a moment of what the actual fuck? What did I ever do to be subjected to this?
And then, all the emotions started to wash over me. I immediately started crying when she confessed her tragic story to him—it was/is heartbreaking to hear. And then, all the other emotions began to wash over me. okay. The one that is glaring and ugly and I can’t avoid.
Jealousy.
Insane, hot, visceral jealousy… and anger. Okay, she’s dying, I get it… but does she really need to kiss him like that? Or touch him the way she keeps touching him? And then… he grabbed her and kissed her? With his tongue clearly in her mouth?