Confinement Part 38

Announcements: Hello! I'm planning on ending Confinement on Part 40, so keep that in mind. I hope you all like this part, there is TONS of Rave in there for all of you xxx

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Created by: Dannica

  1. Hey, are you going to the Inaugural Dance?" Web was leaning back against his headboard, throwing a tennis ball in the air and catching it in his palm. Flame seemed to be studying from a math book, but looked up at the question. "No." Web groaned. "Seriously? You should. Besides, aren't you like, school treasurer or something"”you have to go." Flame smirked. "It's supposed to be Brittany's party. If I went, people would be way too fixated on me to acknowledge her. That would suck." Web laughed, throwing the tennis ball at him. Flame caught it. "And why do you act like you care? You're not allowed to go anyways." Web simpered to himself. Déjí  vu. "And you better not try to crash it; you're in enough trouble as it is." "Yes, Dad." Flame sighed. "I'm serious. How many times do you think they'll tolerate you breaking rules before shipping you to a different school?" "Aw. Are you afraid of losing me?" Flame blew a kiss from his middle finger in Web's direction. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, grasping the invisible kiss and enclosing it in his pocket. "And I'm not going to crash it. I'm not stupid enough to not know how thin the ice I'm walking on is." Flame closed his textbook. "What are you doing to do then?" Web grinned. "Guess you'll have to go to find out."
  2. He regained his original position against the headboard, and then added, "And you literally have to go, I am so sure you're treasurer or secretary or congress"”whatever." Flame started to wipe his glasses with a piece of black cloth. "I am not either of those things, so I am not obligated to attend. I was, however, last year's treasurer, so people are expecting me to go. Doesn't mean I'm going to." Web groaned. "Is this about ______ not going? Dude, you guys aren't even exclusive." "It doesn't matter if we're exclusive or not, she's still my friend. Brittany told everybody that she had schizophrenia. In my book, that is a sign of a total b**ch." Web chuckled lightly. "She is one, huh. Pretty hot though, if you ask me. Remind me why you broke up with her?" Flame inspected the fragile glass lenses before him. "Tell me why you want to know more about Tallon." "Because I want to find out why he was downstairs in our Lobby. I mean, doesn't Reaper have a Lobby too? Dammit, this is why there are separate dorms." Flame tucked his glasses neatly back into the case. "Tallon's a nice guy. Just really quiet. I wish you were like him sometimes. You talk way too much." Web opened his mouth in faux offense. "I cannot believe you just said that. My fragile emotions are crumbling before my eyes!" He clutched at his chest, where his heart would be. "My self confidence is dropping; lower and lower my self esteem plunges!" Web dropped his arm. "But fear not! My ego has hit a solid object. Thou is thy floor! My ego is dropping it like it's meant to he dropped." Web held a straight face as Flame stared at him incredulously. Then he murmured, "Like it's a hot piece of ass." Flame sat in silence, simply matching Web's gaze. He crinkled his brow. "That escalated rather quickly." Web winked. "Practice for the dance."
  3. The hot water on my weary skin felt like the first day of Spring. I savored the steam spiraling around my body, which would quickly then plume out from the top of the shower with an eagerness to escape. I ran my fingers through my hair absently, allowing myself to relax and fall into the deep therapeutic reverie that the soothing heat enveloped me in. My thoughts were bouncing off the granite walls"”ill-defined and nebulous. I wondered about what was happening back in James Dawn. Would Viper really pull it off? Could she possibly give everybody the illusion that I was safe and tight sleeping in my room? I grabbed the bottle of lavender-scented condition and squirted out the subtle purple foam in my palm, watching as the soap suds from earlier continued on winding down the shiny drain. As I coursed my hands through my hair once more, I thought about who this Haste was, and why Sebastian had killed him. Obviously, it was for the power to lead the Miscreancy, but then again, Hef had also said that he killed everybody on a ship. I put my hand on the cold shower wall to steady myself. It seemed as if a minute ago I was complaining about how French class was hard, yet here I was trying to piece together a puzzle involved with murder. I shuddered; the water suddenly seemed frosty. Because of this, I wasn't too transfixed on good the shower felt anymore, but how amazing the food smelled; the aroma seemed to have cut through the steam at the precise moment. I washed myself yet another time, my troubled notions seeping back into my brain. Turning the water off, I grabbed for a towel immediately from the closest rack and wrapped myself up like a burrito. As I made my way to the walk-in closet (which went past the shower) I didn't realize that I had been biting my lip. I tasted blood in my mouth, but ignored it. It's not time to worry.
  4. After putting on my clothes"”a set of matching blue silk pajamas"”brushing my hair, brushing my teeth (with a new toothbrush that I found under the sink), and checking once more that I was thoroughly dry, I stood in front of the elaborate bathroom sink mirror. Bulbs of light studded the very perimeter, with bright and polished steel screw caps cemented into place. On the clean counter before me stood bottles of extra shampoo and conditioner, along with a deeply pink tissue box and a flask of hand sanitizer. I ran a hand down my face to suppress a yawn, then leaned over the sink, taking deep breaths. "This will get easier," I murmured to myself. "Remember what you said: no more damsel in distress." I forced myself to meet my own eyes once more. Then, with a brisk nod of approval, I flounced back into the main bedroom.
  5. Rave smiled when he saw me, and then gestured to the food. The smell immediately seduced me; it was no surprise that I soon found myself huddled over the little tea table on my knees, scooping up the food that Rave had graciously rationed out for me. I was in the middle of my third or fourth scoop of mashed potatoes when Rave got up from his seat, his clothes in his arms. "I'm going to take a shower now." I nodded, hurriedly trying to swallow my food. "I'm sorry to tell you that they only provided lavender-scented hair products; I don't think you'll be smelling like peppermint tonight." Rave rose his eyebrows, smirking. "I smell like peppermint, huh?" Damn. "Well I can't not notice. You're around me almost twenty-four hours of the day." "And you don't like that?" I waved a dismissal. "Go take a shower." Rave's dimples appeared as he started treading to the bathroom. "By the way," he called over his shoulder, "you smell like licorice and vanilla bean. Much better than lavender." I mocked his previous smirk as I watched him proceed into the bathroom, cutting into my slice of turkey. Soon I heard the water rush on, and as I was chewing the remnants of my heavenly meal I couldn't help but wonder if all Rave and I had was a friendship. Would conversations like that be considered as flirting? I sighed to myself; I had no knowledge on the flirting technique at all. My mind immediately thought about Flame and Web. I envied their self-confidence, and their ability to just swoon everybody with their charm. Was it because they were guys? Was it because they knew they were good looking? Damn. I cleared my plate and stacked it on top of the tray. I figured to leave it there so that Gabrielle or somebody could come pick it up in the morning, since this place was so fancy. I unwound my hair tie from around my wrist and gathered my hair into a ponytail. Did I even want there to be something between Rave and me? Did he? I sunk back down into the purple couch, almost afraid to go ahead and ruin the beautiful bed. Was his friendliness only because he was my Savior"”my friend"”and wanted to ensure my trust?
  6. I stopped thinking for a moment. "I do ask a lot of questions," I mumbled under my breath, remembering Rave's past words. With a dull shrug, I reached over for the gray remote, and flipped the TV on. A movie with Johnny Depp was in it"”the name I could not recall. I wasn't even paying attention; there were too many troubles that kept distracting me. "It's not time to worry." I looked up sharply, the voice unexpected. Rave stood leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over a red t-shirt that was just a little bit loose. I turned the TV volume down low"”as if it would make a difference. I nodded. "Right." Rave put on a slight frown. He ran a hand through his damp hair, and then started walking towards another seat"”a couch"”and settled down. I couldn't help but laugh. "What is it with you and couches?" Seeming surprised by the sudden mood change he narrowed his eyes, amused. "What do you mean?" "Whenever you visit me back at the school you always sit on my couch: on the right side, right at the very edge. Always." He scrunched his eyebrows together. "Is that so?" I nodded. "And you're doing it right now." He looked down where he was sitting and then grinned. "I guess you're right. But you always scratch at leather when you're nervous. And you also always sing under your breath when you're out doing normal stuff." "And you would know that because?" Rave's grin was lopsided. "Because I check in on you sometimes; I go into your head for a while, to see what's going on. It's weird, but I can hear you, like your singing in your thoughts. The sound reverberates off of your mind. I like it. Your voice is nice."
  7. I looked down at my nails, pretending that the compliment didn't mean as much to me as it truly did. "Thanks. But the scratching sucks. I developed that habit back when I was in the..." Crap. Did Rave know that I spent three months in the"” "Mental hospital?" Was there anything he didn't know about me? Rave didn't need any indication that his guess was right; I supposed the expression splayed out on my face did just the job. "How was it there?" he asked on, sounding veritably inquisitive. "Obviously it was a presumably sh**ty place to be in your circumstances, but what did they make you do?" I brought a pillow up to my chest and encased it with my arms. "They gave me medication and I had to attend group sessions. Typical stuff you see in the movies." I expected Rave to be almost disillusioned from my lack of embellishment, but he simply just shifted in his seat. "That's where you met Olivia?" I almost cringed when he said her name out loud. The image of her in my room with the horrid bubblegum medicament oozing out from her mouth and falling breezily from her pale lips to the ground still tainted my memory. I shuddered with a nod. "We weren't close though. We just talked once in a while. She would always say that people were coming to get her, which is ironic thinking about it now since...you know." I played with the ruffled edges of the pillow, trying to think of a good memory while in the hospital. It was a shame that there wasn't much to pick from. The silence heaved on between Rave and me, like a ceiling slowly lowering itself until it crushed everything in its path. I attempted to disregard the way he looked at me"”filled with a benign yet defensive glaze. The room suddenly seemed much smaller, and the tranquilization that the shower had brought on was now being replaced by anxiety. I fought hard not to squeeze the pillow too tight. "You pushed those memories away, you know."
  8. For some odd reason my heart skipped when his voice emerged from the surface of the mute. "The memories about the hospital?" Rave twisted his ring around his finger. "Yeah. I tried to reach to it once; you wouldn't let me. It was like you were shoving three months worth of garbage in a regular-sized trash can, just to make it disappear for a while." He got up from his seat and went towards the bed. "Do you need all those pillows?" The change of topic and release of the pillow put oxygen back into my lungs. "No, I don't. I usually sleep with two or something." I watched as Rave crossed the room to open a big mahogany closet in a corner that I hadn't noticed. Then, leaving it open, he threaded back to the bed, and began throwing the elegant pillows inside until there were two left. I got up from the couch, puzzled. "Is it against your religion to sleep with pillows?" Rave let out a deep laugh. "I don't think there's anything in the Bible regarding the sinful acts of sleeping with pillows." I put my hand on top of one of the medium-sized pillars that flanked the bed's footboard. "Ah, so you're a Catholic. Now I know something else about you." He continued to smile as his hands pulled back the thick comforter. I was immediately brought back to the time when he first showed me my Marks in my bathroom"”his delicately calloused fingers grazing the skin of my neck. The warmth that I got penetrated my soul. "So what, you're just not going to sleep with a pillow?" After a yawn he turned to me. "You really shouldn't be so distressed about if I'm going to be sleeping with a pillow under my head or not. But if it brings you satisfaction, yes, I will be sleeping with a pillow tonight. On the couch." The corners of my lips couldn't help but turn downwards. "Oh. But why? I mean, I don't mind sharing the bed. It's huge, if you haven't noticed." Rave's eyes made my heart tickle. "I've noticed, thanks. But I don't want to sleep there just because you feel bad for me."
  9. "I'm not sympathizing, I'm empathizing. And if so, then what's a valid reason for you to sleep there?" Rave chewed on his lip. "Never mind. I'm just going to sleep"”" "Fine, then I'll sleep on the couch too." He ran a hand down his face. He was clearly exhausted. And I was clearly intensifying it, but that just gave me all the reason to push him to sleep in the bed. I know I was being dramatic, but I sincerely wanted him to sleep in the bed not because I wanted him to, but because he was my friend, and he was so tired. Why couldn't he realize that? "I'm not letting you sleep on the couch when there is a perfectly king-sized bed right here. And that is final." Rave looked flustered. And maybe a little pained. "Fine." He smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I get the right side."
  10. The TV was off, and the room was dark, save for the tiny light of a distant lamp that Rave wanted to keep on so that he could have the sense of sight just in case anything were to occur. I didn't like how paranoid he still seemed to be, but as of right now I was just glad that he complied with me. He lay on the right side of the bed"”as he wished"”with his arms under his head, looking at the painted ceiling. We weren't touching; the distance between us was maybe a whole foot. The comforter was warm and toasty, and the mattress was soft under my aching skin. I curled into a ball with my back facing Rave, clutching the blanket. I was tired, but I wasn't sleepy. So instead, I let my mind wander. Memories twisted through the fissures of my intellect, those of today and those of the past. I thought of the good ones"”the ones where things were not as complicated, and the ones where I was laughing with Flame or enjoying Comet's company. It was strange, thinking that those at James Dawn were asleep, worrying about their tests tomorrow morning or what they were going to wear for school, and I was here. A pressure on my nose soon appeared, and I knew what that meant. My eyes started getting watery but I blinked them away; why the hell was I crying? An involuntary sniffle escaped. Crap. I felt Rave turn over. "Are you okay?" I ran my finger along the soft lining of the blanket. "Yeah." "Are you sure?" "Yeah." There was another pause. I really hated these silences between us. "What are you thinking about?" I squirmed. "The truth?" "Yes." "Flame. I'm just remembering something." "Tell me." I brought my ponytail over my shoulder to play with the ends. "Um, it was nighttime. He took me to the roof of a building. We just talked." I felt the bed move under my body once more. "Can I see you?" My stomach felt like goo. "Are you sure?" I felt him shudder with laughter. "Yeah." Reluctantly, I turned over, unravelling myself. I rolled up in my little armadillo ball anew and faced Rave, whose steady stormy eyes were already awaiting. The amount of space betwixt us remained unchanging. "It was nice of him to go to the hospital." His voice entombed me in euphoria. I whispered back, "I think he's afraid." "Of what?" I shrugged, rubbing my feet together. "Something. I don't know." Rave was twisting his ring again. "Everybody is afraid of something." "And what are you afraid of?" Rave's lip twitched ever so slightly. "Dying." I couldn't help but say, "Then you're working the wrong job, Mr. Kingsley."
  11. The small depressions in Rave's cheeks appeared and went like a dream after waking up. "But you shouldn't be afraid. You're not doing to die. At least not from this." A tremble of affliction crossed over him for a moment, until it was soon superseded by something I could not put my finger on. He said, "If I do die while doing this, I'm happy that it's for you." I sighed. "I don't want you to die for me." Rave returned to his position on his back. "That's what we all swear in, right when we're about to graduate from The Basin. We swear to protect and to serve, no matter what." "And Viper didn't want to commit." He ran a hand through his hair. "I still can't believe that. I still can't believe she got away and she didn't get punished by the Jury." I almost giggled. "Going to Hell and coming back seems almost suitable." His breathy laugh cut through the dark; it was like a swell of a piano to my ears. "Almost." The lines on his face were sharp, and I could tell he was still stiff. It made me sad. "So The Basin is like some training school?" "Yeah. Not just for Saviors though: there are different areas to train in. I was put there when I was twelve, born into a Savior from my mother's side. I wasn't necessarily surprised that I was top notch when I swore in. I had lots of time to train." I rose my eyebrows. "Why so early?" There was an interval of stillness within the room that made my eyelids feel heavier. Finally, Rave said, "I don't know." The answer caught me off guard, but I knew from his tone of voice that he was just as perplexed. "Did you have to stay at The Basin until you swore in?" "Yes." "So you couldn't see anybody outside of it?" Rave clenched his jaw. I felt like I crossed a territory that was frail for him. "They would allow visits sometimes. But nobody came for me. My parents believed that it would interfere with my mindset." I didn't know what to respond. How many years had Rave spent without his family? Friends? My eyes focused on a golden tassel that lay lazily on the bed from one of Rave's pillows. "Were you happy? At The Basin, I mean." "Somewhat." Suddenly it hit me. I held myself up with my elbows, looking him squarely in the eye. "You haven't seen your family have you? Ever since you were twelve."
  12. He arched an eyebrow; there was no change in his hard expression. "What makes you draw that conclusion?" His tone sounded well-nigh frivolous. And I don't know how I got there, but soon my chin was almost resting on his chest. Had I really moved a whole foot from my curiosity? Was he really reeling me in that easy? I gulped and said, "Because you swore in. It's like a done deal. And I'm assuming you found out your Purpose was me, and you would have had to learn about me I suppose. And you did tip my mom about James Dawn." I deflated onto my arms, carefully avoiding body contact, and perched my chin atop my folded hands. "You haven't seen your family since you were twelve because of me." He slitted his eyes at me with disconcert. "It wasn't because of you. In fact, I could have visited any time I wanted to, just for a moment." He shifted back onto his side; I could see his eyelashes paint his cheekbones whenever he blinked, and the steady pace of his chest. "But I didn't want to. It's too strange for me to think about, even now. All I know is that they wouldn't want to see me"”not yet." "Why not?" A lazy smile brushed his mouth. "I've given you enough of a spool. I think I'll save something to tell you for the next time."
  13. A wary laugh died on my lips, and soon the room turned into an orchestra of deteriorating minds and soft sighs, anchored and conducted by the boisterous throbs of my heart. I didn't move away from Rave; he didn't move away from me; there was a soft intimacy that I believe I edged closer to; the lamplight soon became a ghost as the bulb obliged to preserve its radiance. But I still did not sleep. Because I knew that Rave wouldn't. And after telling me for the third time to get some rest I replied with the same response: "No." I was too out of it to list my reasoning. After saying that, however, Rave chuckled. It was soft and oozed out the melody of the hum of a violin and the strike of a harp. The sound immediately pulled me to him. His dimple was faint; I could only see the overcast silhouette of his face provided by the pallid dawn etching mildly into the room. "Normal Purposes wouldn't do this." "I can't believe normal is still in your vocabulary." "Go to sleep." "I don't want you to be awake alone." "What if I'm thinking the same about you?" I paused. "Are you still proud of me?" He knit his eyebrows together. "Is this what this is about?" I said quickly, "No. I'm just wondering. So I can work on it." He laughed again and I wondered how many times it would take for him to laugh until I couldn't take it any longer and lose my self control. "Come here." I went, now really putting my chin on his chest. "You don't have to prove anything to me," he murmured. "Nothing. To anybody." I nodded. He reached over and kissed my forehead. My body was too tired I couldn't even blush. His dimples made an appearance again. "And ________?" I rose my eyebrow, somehow already knowing what he was going to speak. "Get some sleep, okay?" Déjí  vu. I didn't know if I smiled or not. The effects of no sleep was finally taking a toll on me. I curled off of his chest. I think he put his arm around me. "Okay."

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