neilmonroe:
Though his words had been cordial enough, in their own peculiar way, the sentiment didnât extend so much to Neilâs feelings. He twisted about to see her, his face enough of a frown that old wives would warn him about it ending up stuck that way by the wind. She seemed a lot older than he remembered her: more refined, dignified, mature. Maybe it was in the set of her shoulders, or the pucker of her brow. Or perhaps it was that soft sadness in her eyes â the same sadness that shone through dimly in his, too, and Willaâs. The sadness of an irreplaceable loss. People said that you lost a piece of your soul when someone died, and if the eyes were the windows to the soul, maybe thatâs why they didnât shine as brightly afterwards.
She still had a little spark there in the hazel, though â her fire wasnât dead yet. He almost appreciated her bite: it felt old-school, like some things hadnât changed. It was familiar, nostalgic, time-worn and tested. Maybe that was why it almost made him smile. âIâve watched enough True Crime to know that the killers hardly ever return to the crime scene â thatâs just bullshit Agatha Christie peddles to make solving it easier,â he said, too fatigued to fight back on his innocence. In fact, now that he thought of it, heâd rarely actually said to anyone I didnât do this. Instead heâd deflected, joked, cast himself out of society in bitter sorrow. After all â on one level, he wasnât sure.
He let out a little aggravated sigh as she sat within ten feet of him â even that was too close. He watched her lift her arm to drink from one of approximately five hundred cups of coffee, drawing out a long, irritating slurp. For fuckâs sake. âSet something on fire? Depends how much hairspray youâre wearing. And real classy â so, what, are you addicted to caffeine now, instead of attention?â
If the town had fallen silent, the entire population would have heard Cherry Dixonâs sigh from the swamp. âOh Neil, so predictable in your insults.First of all  I am not wearing hairspray it makes your hair limp and dull, and as you can see it is as  shiny and bouncy as ever. Second of all, I thought you above preying on teenage insecurities.â She flashed a smirk with all bark and no bite before going back to her coffee. âCaffeine keeps me going. Lot of shifts lately.â She sensed a deep pattern emerging. Quip, sip, drag. It almost felt like high school again but only almost.Â
She kept her eyes cast down, trained on the dirt and the twigs and the mush. It all looked so familiar, like she had seen it before on the floor of her bedroom or felt it on the inside of her heart. Everything was so messy, so twisted..dirty..she felt like a mangled piece of earth left to rot. But that she couldnât blame on him, that was only something she could pin on her addiction to attention.Â
The most fun with fighting with Neil had been Hazel telling them to stop. The little jabs and pokes just to get a rise out of the other had all been out of love for someone else. The love doesnât go anywhere, when the person dies but instead it creates a black hole. Every time you tried to be happy or move on or forget is just destroyed and inhaled everything. Cherry was constantly empty, always wishing for just a little more, hungry for a different feeling. Quip,sip, drag. âIf youâre willing to let me bum a smoke off you...I might be willing to give up a coffee. You can even pick your flavor. Gin, Bourbon or Rum. Iâd offer the whiskey but itâs got my cooties on it.âÂ
