@noellefowler
All he had to do was knock. Yup. Raise a fist, do the deed. Once, maybe twice. Cash had thought through this plan for the entire duration of his walk here and yet standing now, outside the apartment he used to share with his older sister, he couldn’t get his fucking hands to budge. The midday sun assaulted his senses, upchucked phlegmatic rays and streaked them across the ground beneath his feet. And this, Cash couldn’t help but think, was the dictionary definition of defeat. He ground his teeth together, clenched his jaw, stretched his fingers by his sides. All he had to do was... knock. Maybe thrice would be a better option -- one for necessity, two for luck, three for insurance. Yeah. The redhead lifted an arm and watched his lightly coiled fist drift toward the door.
One. She’s gonna kill me.
Two. Aren’t I already dead to her anyway?
Three. If I don’t do this, I will be.
Cash took a generous step backwards and trained his eyes on the door handle. That way, when and if Noelle chose to answer, he’d receive ample warning. Time enough to leap into the shadows and retreat from what he’d come here to do.
He rooted his feet in place. He needed this -- needed Noelle. And perhaps it was selfish, foolish to think that she’d want to help. But in this terrifying world, all anyone fucking had was the connections they made. Noelle was one of the few of those he hadn’t completely blown to bits. He liked to pretend he hadn’t blown it all to bits. So Caspian Fowler rocked back on his heels, clasped his hands behind his back, and waited, with bated breath, for his last resort to fall through.
