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Default   #70   sylvanSpider sylvanSpider is offline
Weaver of Webs
Aren shook his head. Tristan was sure and he had no reason to doubt the boy. The situation turned more dire, and he knew that he and Taka had to return that night or Ian would pass away. “Well,” Aren said after a moment, gulping, “They'll find it empty when they check again too. Unless they get permission from the city to raid people's apartments to go looking for you they won't find you. They don't know yet about your connection to me, and breaking into each and every apartment is bound to draw some sort of attention. The clout he has in the first ward hasn't yet reached ours.”

Taka knew immediately what he meant by that. Ian was gay. That, at least, she could identify in Aren as well. So she wasn't simply imagining things, which was comforting – and it would also explain why she recognized the sick bloke. She'd seen him with Maverick before, long ago. “Well these orders can save your life, Tristan,” she added, voice stern but kind. The orders weren't to constrain him, they were meant to keep not one, but two lives going. “We have to get going now, and hopefully we'll be seeing you later tonight. If we can, we'll radio in. We don't know what kinds of shit we'll run into at the hospital, but we've some of Mav's men patrolling. None yet from the city, but they aren't the ones I'm afraid of. We'll see you soon.”

With that, Taka clicked off the walkie talkie ignoring the glare that Aren gave her with the abrupt farewell, waving it off with a simple, “We have to get moving or Ian will die. We don't have time for emotions. You can give Ian a kiss when he's feeling better with the medicine. You could have stayed behind, but I can't read. Your job is equally as important. Now. Let's make like a tree and get the fuck out of here.”

Aren bowed his head. She was right; he knew that, but he didn't want to admit it so he simply muttered, “That's not how the adage goes...” under his breath.

If Taka heard, she gave no indication of it.

>>>>

Outside, the rain still hadn't let up. If anything, and if it was possible, it was raining harder now. Taka found herself glad she pushed them out before they had a chance to even dry a little bit because that comfort would have been stripped away from them a second time. Any hint of voices and the pair were forced to take detours. But eventually they found it – a once white towering, massive building.

They went inside.
All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.

Even insects breathe.

-Rawi Hage, Cockroach
Old Posted 09-06-2018, 02:28 PM Reply With Quote