My Match | Melissa + Marlon
marlonpresley:
“Fine.” Marlon gave softly, brown eyes resting on Melissa’s face. The old yellow streetlights around the store (the ones that were still working, at least) cast long shadows on her face, those of her lashes stretching past her cheekbone. Hard, crusty snow crunched beneath his boots as he approached the dark, looming building – looking for all the world like it was completely abandoned – Melissa still in his arms.
He could see before they reached it that the door was bolted shut. Melissa hadn’t mentioned anything about it, nor did she seem surprised, so he stopped and gently set her down, assuming she had a key. He wondered for a moment who was inside, and whether or not they were awake, but quickly tossed the thought aside, focusing on the Crybaby beside him. His time at the store was long passed, and the rest of the gang no longer concerned him; not that the Killjoys really did, either. Or anything – except finding his brother, and finishing what he’d started.
Once she was upright, Melissa jerked off her boot, gripping Marlon’s arm to keep her steady. She swore the key was in her left shoe but instead it was a small fixed-blade knife she’d completely forgotten. The Crybaby watched it clatter across the porch with tired eyes, shaking her head. That could’ve helped her when she and Marlon’s “friend” had their little informal introduction. Off came the other shoe, only a bit more carefully the second time around, Melissa taking the time to ease her foot out and dump the contents into her hand. Another knife fell out. She felt a slight twinge of panic as she started to pat her pockets, feeling no key. One of the lights in the windows above them went out. Soon, the window next to it fell dark. The idea of being stranded on the porch while the rest of the gang slept was a little terrifying. The desert winds grew a few hours before sunrise, and with the chilling winter temperatures, they could get sick or worse. Not wanting to take on the task of convincing Marlon to walk her all the way to the gas station, Melissa started searching more unconventional places for the key. A quick finger sweep of her bra proved to be helpful, the key resting next to her breast the entire time.
Limping up to the door, she unlock it after a few tries and shuffled through, abandoning her boots without a care. With dim light to work with, she stumbled her way through the store, bumping into cans of food and empty liquor bottles. “Be careful.” She tossed over her shoulder at Marlon once she found the stairs. Too lazy to turn on the hallway light, Melissa felt her way down the hall, watching her feet as they disappeared and reappeared in the light the peeked out from under some of the doors. Once her fingers brushed against door covered in rhinestones she pushed it open, purposefully not turning on the light. “Mi casa es su casa.” She yawned, walking across the room and collapsing on her bed. Her knees burned from the skin being split open but they weren’t a huge priority. The main concern was finding a gentle way to press the Killjoy for information without attracting any suspicion.
