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A/N: Another piece in my Vivacious~Vocab series. ^^ This is probably my favourite one. I hope you all enjoy it. =)
---*o0o0o*---
Leaning against the wall, watching my colleague sift through drawer after drawer of clothes, I have to remind myself why exactly we are here.
Okay, so our friend Fred died by a knife wound, and is currently wizening into a decayed corpse six feet under. The police and other authorities investigated the case, and couldn’t convict anyone of murder, so they let the case be. However, Trent figured there was a misapprehension among the suspects, and ebulliently decided to partake on a little investigation of his own.
So here we are now, standing in the middle of George’s bedroom, looking for any signs that he had a grudge against Fred. I once again voiced my opinion on this whole escapade, and the bumptious boy argued that there could’ve been some clever legerdemain that fooled the police.
I had simply raised an eyebrow at the word beyond his vocabulary, and dropped it. Deciding to play his childish game, I replied that he must’ve known what the police does to people who become recalcitrant. Of course, I didn’t let my own surprise of knowing that word seep into my voice.
He snorted, but I could almost feel the smirk that he was now sporting. When I heard his rustling stop, and his mouth gaping, I moved from my position near the door and glided over to the younger man. What I saw in that drawer made me forget myself for a moment.
Arranged neatly was a superfluous assortment of bra, thongs, and miscellaneous women lingerie, in all sizes and colors in the rainbow. Shocking, but at least it was displayed in such an aesthetically pleasing manner.
I sneaked a glance over at Trent, who seemed to be almost hyperventilating. Stunned, I brushed my fingers over his forehead, and he seemed to become febrile. I moved my hand to his arm to steady him, maybe even comfort him. A few moments passed, and he finally vouchsafed himself to speak.
“I…I…I… Its an—its an—“ Unfortunately, it came out as a stutter.
Amused greatly, I suggested, “…An aberration against mankind, maybe?” At my words, he seemed to snap from his shock-induced trance and, noticing my hand, retaliated against my touch. Shrugging, I continued, “So what if our friend George is…titillated by surrounding himself with lingerie? It’s not any of our business. Though I wish I could’ve lived without the information.”
He continued to stare at me, looking as if he was looking through me. I started to get a presentiment that something was wrong with the boy, when he snapped into action. He shoved me away, and then, as if he had momentarily gone mad, tore the drawer out against the wall, with a resounding smash and attempted to pulverize it. He kicked wildly at the mess, nevermind the pain in his foot, and stomped on it like a child in a temper tantrum. He ripped apart some of the garments in his blind rage. He seemed to have slipped into another trance, this time, it let him release the pent up frustration in him, and he was taking it out on the drawer. Forgetting the fact that we snuck into someone else’s house and was destroying their property. Not to mention that they’d probably wake up any minute.
It was this terrifying thought that propelled my shocked body into action. I pulled him roughly away from the disaster he made. By this time, it was a sad, dilapidated piece of furniture. If you could still call it that.
The boy stared down at the mess for a long moment, panting over it, probably pondering on what he had just done. Realizing that we had no time, I tightened my grip on him and quickly maneuvered around the house to find an exit. Once we were quite some distance away, I let go, and we paused. He looked up at me, his eyes horrified at what he done, but at the same time, glinting with a light of realization. It made me intensely curious about what he discovered.
“Are you okay, Trent? What… what happened that made you decide to do something like that?” His intriguing gaze hardened at the words, and he twisted himself away. My lips pulled up to a smirk, saying, “Being evasive tonight, aren’t we?”
At my weak attempt at humor, the tense teenager slightly relaxed. However, I bit back my comment about his talent at being unobtrusive. I decided that tonight, I was going to let him absorb the shock of what he did, and in the morning tell him how stupid I thought he was. For now, I let him be.
We strolled down the street in the direction of Trent’s house. It was an awkward, quiet walk. And his constant gaze on me unnerved me to a great depth, but I didn’t say a word.
Crossing a street, he suddenly asked, “Sean, are we ever going to be…oh, this sounds silly…symbiotic?” He lifted his gaze to look directly in my eyes. I stared back down, my confusion clearly evident.
“Why do you ask, Trent?” I asked in a stage whisper.
He paused, biting his lip, his face getting redder then before. Was he catching a fever? I had thought absently before he turned away. “Nevermind. Just…forget it. It was a stupid question anyway.” And he didn’t utter another word until we reached his house, where he said goodbye in a rushed, almost…. embarrassed tone? I shrugged it off to the unpredictability of teenage hormones.
As I turned from his house and sauntered away, another question floated to my brain. What on Earth possessed me to accompany Trent on his stupid quest, anyway…?
That was a question that kept me up all night.
---*o0o0o*---
Comments? Thoughts? Review please. ;) If I get enough, I might be compelled to write a companion piece and/or a sequel. Through Trent's POV.