festivus | per, els, mal & ev
"Might’ve known there ain’t no breakin’ free without being followed. Why’d you come? We got enough trouble at this party without you two getting in over your heads." She half-joked, leaning against him a little, the surfaces of their shoulders pressing comfortably into one another. "I got a few, you want some?" She questioned pulling a pack from somewhere beneath the hem of her hi-lo worn sweater dress. Shaking the pack at him a little, she looked around the party, not unaware that they all look terribly out of place among the wealthy, milk-fed kids of tomorrow — it almost made her home sick, but for what home she wasn’t sure. "You are socially involved, you’re talking to me." She quipped, giving him a cheeky smile while taking another sip of the flavorless, numb-inducing vodka she held. "I scared him off, I think. Got a little to heavy for his party. It’s just as well, I think he’s really into Zoe, they were talking before and I was so sure he was some scumfuck trying to get into her pants, but.. he was actually nice, there is something about him though.. I thought it was danger, but now I’m starting to think I was wrong. Maybe he isn’t danger, but in it." She explained, giving Malachi a dark, worried glance and pressing her lips together.
Malachi plucked a cigarette from the pack and smirked, nudging his shoulder against hers. "I'm impressed, Evan. That's really sweet of you, looking out for the uh, flightier members of the coven." Zoe and Madison certainly hadn't been particularly nice to him upon his arrival; Zoe completely avoided him as if she might burst into flames if he spoke to her, and Madison, irked by the fact that he didn't fall at her heels and worship her the second they met, made him the butt of her bitchy, inappropriate jokes. "I have a feeling something bad might happen tonight too. That's why I followed you. I thought you might need some--" he almost said protection, but Evan would punch him if he alluded to her being weak and in need of male assistance; he cleared his throat "--help." Malachi narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze to the frathouse, scrutinizing the raucous clumps of undergrads clogging the porch and doorway. He knew Zoe and Madison were in there somewhere, could almost feel their presences passing through the crowds, expertly blending in with the shiny happy masses. As he brought the cigarette to his lips, a blast of energy surged through his brain. His eyes clamped shut, his knees bending involuntarily. White sparks danced across the back of his eyelids, and he heard several voices, muffled, frantic whispers, mostly male. Someone whimpered, a weak, high-pitched tone that almost sounded familiar. He was vaguely aware that Evan was still beside him, possibly speaking to him, but he couldn't force his eyes to seek her out. He wanted to tell her what he was saying, that something bad was occurring right now, but his lips only formed one word: "Madison."
