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Carrot cake with Guinness ice cream at #BeCook in #León. #foodblogger #iberiantraveler #gastronomic (at León, Spain)

#león #becook #foodblogger #gastronomic #iberiantraveler

She's staring at the ceiling, blue eyes dull as she lays on her back. It's dark and the night is her closest friend. It knows all her secrets, her deepest thoughts and the words that were never spoken. But now, she's not alone in the dark. Not anymore. She looks to her right and there he is. Freddie. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, his lips slightly parted as air fills his lungs and leaves his lips again. His arm is wrapped around her waist and it comforts her, brings the familiar warmth that only he could bring her. Effy moves her hand, slowly, reluctant. Brushing the hair away from his eyes before sliding her fingertips down the side of his face. Then she glances left and is surprised by Cook's blue eyes wide and awake. "Princess." He whispers and it sounds like a prayer. Her hand moves away from Freddie's face and rests over Cook's hand as he slowly laces their fingers together. She just looks at him, in silence. They had never needed words to understand each other. They were two sides of the same coin and, every time Effy looked at him, she saw parts of herself. "You need me to hold ya?" He asks and Effy just nods, his arms slowly wrapping around her and pulling her close as if she was a fragile bird who needed care. She didn't mind. Not this time. Instead, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in and letting the familiar scent sooth her. Then the bed moves and Effy feels Freddie's body press against hers, his chest pressed against her back, lips brushing over the back of her neck and placing small kisses as he laces his leg with hers, arm moving to rest around her body as his hand touches Cook's arm. They don't say anything. They just lay there. Taking each other in as Cook and Freddie shelter her. And, just like that, they fall asleep.

It's the morning and the sun is creeping into her bedroom window, a soft breeze kissing her skin as Effy frowns, rolling to the side and opening her eyes only when her body hits something. It's Cook. He's still asleep. Effy turns around to touch Freddie, kiss him, but he's not there. Her heart sinks in her chest and she swallows a dry lump in her throat. Something doesn't feel right, she doesn't know why, but it doesn't feel right. Effy sits up, violently jerking Cook's body. "Cook! Cook! Wake up!" He grumbles and pushes her arm away so she slaps the back of his head. "What the--What the fook was that for?" He growls but Effy is already on her feet, sliding into her jeans and throwing a leather jacket on. "Effs? What's wrong? Where's Freddie?" She ignores him for another moment, stepping into her combat boots and tossing him his shirt. "Get dressed. Freddie's gone."

They look for him. They look for him night and day. But he's nowhere to be found. It's been a week, Effy can no longer breathe right and Cook... He can't control himself any longer. They're losing their minds but, most of all, they're losing Freddie. It's unspoken, but they both feel it. They both know it.

After tossing and turning for hours, Cook and Effy are finally asleep, their arms wrapped around each other as if that could somehow keep them from falling apart. But they feel it. They both do. Like poison running through their veins, killing them little by little as their dreams are haunted by Freddie's face. "HELP!" Cook's eyes snap open and he jumps off the bed. It was Freddie's voice. He was sure of it. He was talking in his head. He stops at the door, glancing at Effy one last time before storming out. Running, desperate, wildly until he's finally in Freddie's room, searching through his things as fast as he possibly could, clothes flying over his head until he finds it, Freddie's notebook. Cook skims through the pages, looking for a sign, looking for something. And then he sees it. Large inked words across the page; JOHN FOSTER WANTS TO HURT HER.

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Blood stains his clothes and his skin, Foster's lifeless, deformed body at his feet. Cook breathes heavily, gasps for air but there is no time. He runs. He runs like his life depends on it. No. Like Freddie's life depends on it. "Freddie?" He screams, running up and down the stairs. "Freds?!" He yells again, louder this time and stops at the basement's door. His heart is beating so fast he thinks it'll rip off his chest. Raising a shaky hand, Cook turns the handle and watches the door fly open. He can't breathe and suddenly, he feels dead inside. Racing down the stairs, he stops at the bottom. There he is. Bloody and wrecked. Freddie's body on the floor like a lifeless doll. "Freds! FREDDIE!" He screams, taking Freddie's body into his arms and carrying him up the stairs. He doesn't check for a pulse. He doesn't want to. The very thought that Freddie might be dead making him sick. So he keeps running.

As soon as Cook walks out the front door with Freddie in his arms, he sees Effy, standing a foot away from him with parted lips and desperate tears streaming down her face. And, in that moment, Cook knows... She heard Freddie too. He falls onto his knees, an arm supporting Freddie as the other wraps around his waist and in a fraction of a second, Effy is there too. Her small, fragile frame over Freddie's body and she's sobbing, gasping for air as she screams. "No! Freddie! Freddie, NO!" She screams again. "Wake up! Wake up you fucking twat! Wake up!" Effy shakes him but nothing happened. "I couldn't---He was---I---" Cook's voice breaks and then, he's sobbing too. Both their bodies over Freddie's as they waver between life and death, every inch of them broken, shattered in a million pieces.

"You... You're suffocating me." His voice is weak. But it's there. He's there. Their Freddie is alive.

#[ x. drabble ]#becook #nofxture #[ HA HA DIE WITH ME ]