Aesthetically Chaotic

Before you know it you're being pushed onto your back and pinned at your wrists with one of his hands, the other holding the foam sword to your throat, Cross hovering over you with that triumphant grin—but it wavers the moment he sees that bit of blush creep onto your cheeks.

Cross's own cheekbones begin to warm.

He blinks.

"er..." His eyelights glance off somewhere else—anywhere else— "i uh... huh..." The sword lowers from your neck, discarded somewhere off to the side. The hand keeping your wrists above your head loosens, but doesn't let go just yet.

A beat passes.

"Guess you win, huh?" Your voice comes out more shy than you meant it to. "What now?"

Cross goes quiet for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to say something. He glances back at you before; "what do i get for winnin'?"

The sudden-hungry look in his sockets catches you off guard; still careful, yet holding a flame they can't seem to hide.

Now it's your turn to glance away.

"What did you have in mind?"

The sun's not fully disappeared under the horizon yet, but it already feels uncomfortably cold. A type of chill you'd compare to a hardly-there shiver from opening a fridge, except this time that odd chill is not going away.

It's… an unnatural feeling. Some baby hairs on the back of your neck raising, and the ones on your arms sweeping upward in a tidal wave of goosebumps, stopping at your shoulders.

That wave repeats from your ankles to upper thighs, making you close your legs tighter on a squirmy, uneasy reflex.

You're wearing a sweater, but the nip in the air still affects you so greatly.

Mm. Maybe it's the wood of the cabin porch you're sitting on that's reaping the body heat from you through your leggings.

Or it could very well be Kit's disappearance has your nerves on the highest possible alert.

…

The setting dwarf star is silhouetting the garden's apple tree beautifully. That nice green of the leaves gone to a pure black from the faraway angle you're at, though you're quick to look away before the sun could hurt you anymore.

It already burns from crying.

..They would probably be easier to wipe if your hands weren't sticky with the juice of an apple you finished a while ago. How long have you been sitting here and holding the leftover core for?

You're still hungry, but you're not sure if you can stomach anything else. Or—well, not that there's many more apples you can reach from the tree. And the oranges on the outskirts of the property still aren't ripe yet.

Shimmering rose gold reflects blindingly on the once brilliant blue lake to your right. The sun having gone a neon orange from how low it now is, and the sky makes its gradual return to blue.

…Another day of Kitty not coming back. Marking the twelfth.

You should go to bed.

Rising from the warped and weathered wood of the patio. Of the abandoned cabin you two found shelter in. The same one you helped her quick fix the holes in the walls, where you removed an old bird's nest from.

…The fires you both learned how to start together, the belongings of the past home owner you guys rummaged through. She picked the highest apples for you, her cuts you healed, the random ass bar of Dove soap she kept in her Inventory for a reason she wouldn't tell you. But at least you two were able to stay clean.

She should have kept the bar of soap for wherever it is she went. It doesn't really feel as though you deserve to have it.

You wonder if she was ever able to find civilization in this AU.

The apple core gets thrown into the wild overgrowth that climbs the side of the house, and you go back inside through a door she put back on the hinges. Your back now turned to the darkness of night.

Line of sight facing away from the cubic 'edge graph' structure high above those now blackened waters. Its bricks glistened by the rising moonlight, but acknowledging it makes you more sick.

Something is wrong with this world, but you don't know what.

..Kitty may have found what's wrong.

You can't help but look to the empty bed on the opposite side of the space, as you move to sit on 'yours'. The bed that doesn't belong to you, and is nothing as comfortable as home's.

She had littered her claimed bed with the few assortment of miscellaneous items that took up her Inventory. She wanted the space in case she had to bring anything more important back with her.

…If she did die, at least on the day she left, she'd have about another day of recovery before she can freely use her magic to its fullest.

Before she can start to find her way back.

..Right?

You get beneath the covers. The more cozy and warm one that you took turns swapping every other night.

It's been your turn for twelve, as of today.

A cold similar to what you felt before startles you awake. Though 'familiar' in the sense that it's not 'as' chilly.

This is almost like below freezing to your Soul.

The exhales you take feel like they should be coming out as cloudy puffs, but they don't.

Your heart is pounding, too.

When did you start to hyperventilate?

…How long has there been a scratching at the door?

A consistency in very short strokes, like a nail digging deeply into something. But obviously a nail that can handle clawing into wood.

You're already swinging your legs out from beneath the covers, as hushed as physically possible in such a rundown house that has the creakiest floors imaginable, and you dive under the bed with the fastest shimmy of your life.

The scratching hasn't stopped at all, and it's not like you could dare get a peak at who or what it could possibly be, because Kitty barred the door's decorative (and broken) window with wood.

…'Window'. What if whatever's out there can see you through the windows of the house?! It's only just this ONE ROOM for the entire building! You open the door and it's just this one singular space.

How much farther against the wall can you wiggle to? Do you reach your arm out to grab the blanket and tug it to drape over the crawlspace?

The scratching still has not stopped, you can do that while they're busy!! Hide yourself better!!

They probably don't even know someone lives here now, right?! Yeah! Yeah, no, you're fine! It's just… just somebody messing around with an abandoned cabin on the coast! Maybe they saw that 'liminal' cube thing above the bay and decided to check out the area!

…

What if it's someone who can help?

Kitty left TO find help!! Could this be someone she knows? Or maybe this person can help find her!

…If it's even a person.

You shift into a somewhat more comfortable position to look at where the door is, beyond the safety of your blanket fort, and you pair a deep breath with a forced beat of your Soul.

Sifting through the ambient chill in the air to focus on the… the heat?

Though the atmosphere remains obviously clear to the naked eye, past what feels like a heavy fog of cold is… A source of heat. Condensed and heavier. Almost chokingly so, but you can't look away.

It's entrancing.

You didn't think someone's magic could feel so searingly hot.. But also give off such a freeze? As if the cold is trying to mask the 'fire'.

—And then it all stops.

The scratching, the chill, the flame, the heaviness of magic.

It's gone.

You take in a lungful of nothing but clean air. It… there's no way it just left, right?

Yeah, aha. No. You're waiting right here.

What feels like thirty minutes have past. Could be fewer, could be more. It's hard to focus on the time when you're this locked in to detecting magic signatures.

You want to say it's safe, given it's been this quiet for so long, but… You just don't know.

If your detection is off, then what? You go out there and 'Wow! You're probably dead!' Has it ever been off kilter before? Is that even possible?

How would you even know? There's never been an opportunity to see if your detection COULD be off, because Kit just runs in every time. You don't get into as much danger as her—she's always the one to go first.

…

Kitty's not here. You need to be brave this time, and see what's going on.

You're not helpless.

Scared, but you can defend yourself. And besides, it's been thirty minutes or something of zero magic signatures!! How could anything still be out there, right?!

…

You kick the blanket away, and leave the comfort of your hiding spot.

Though before you stand, you very awkwardly reach to the base of the bed to grab your discarded boots. In..in case you need to make a hell of a run for it through the woods, or.. or whatever.

The old floors don't creak with your inching, cautious steps. Like suddenly luck is on your side, the house alive and in favor of keeping you hidden and safe.

Or that's what makes you feel better to think about. The idea of everything's going to be okay.

It does not take long for you to reach the door. Hand enclosed around the lever knob, you take one last and LENGTHY feel around for any fragment of magic nearby, and then open it.

Slowly. The door obnoxiously grinding on the frame thanks to the messed up hinges, so you only open it just enough to be able to slip out through the narrow gap.

And once you're out in the open of the patio, you… don't see anything.

As expected, right?

Where even was that scratching, on the door? That's what it sounded like, but now you're second-guessing yourself because you're freaked… It was fuckin' obviously the door—

Engraved into the old wood is an upside down heart.

What? No, but like.. really.. What?

So late into the night that the moon is witness, lighting up you and the heart. And the rest of the property, as you've come to find out after taking another long gaze around.

This etching is the size of your head, and so deep into the wood.

Jagged and splintered. A carving you'd see all poorly made on the bark of a tree, except the curves of these lines are precise. A perfectly rounded heart… You were definitely right about the nails. Claws did this. If whoever scratched this used a blade or anything else, the lines would be too sharp.

...Monster claws?—In the shape of an upside down soul.

A monster did this?

Like, a person?

…

You need to go back inside. Genuinely. You don't care if this is just a regular person, you do NOT feel safe!

Not like this fucked house is any secure, but.. still! Better than out in the open, with your back to everything!

Something bulky steps on the creaky, warped wood of the patio.

Your heart sinks like what you'd expect from a 'falling in your sleep' phenomenon, immediately followed by a thick heaviness in the air that has you really wanting to fall.

It feels cold and warm at the same time.

But before your knees could even consider buckling from the shock and scare of such a dangerously strong and abrupt presence, a large body gently presses against your back, and two strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.

You freeze up, every muscle in your body flexing rigid.

A warm breath exhales against your hair, at the same time as the world grows dark and fuzzy on the corners of your vision. As if you're about to faint, but you feel no different aside from scared.

That darkness suddenly blows out, as if you've closed your eyes, and those arms tighten.

…A nuzzle into your hair occupies the tightened hug. The action, you can very vaguely tell, leaves behind a somewhat dense smear of liquid.

He—you think—sighs into you. Masculine with a scratchy undertone, and that blackness somehow gets impossibly darker when he speaks.