Chaos Rising: Dawn of the Hybrid

III - Slithering Evil Part 3

Soft, warm lips pressed against mine. The muffled sounds of Michael's moans answered my gentle cries as we shared a moment in his bed.

He was on top of me, his hard and sculpted body falling against mine. The New York air still felt cold, but I didn't mind as Michael's warmth burned it away. Our tongues met as we kissed and I could've sworn I almost tasted his desire. Bitter and sweet at the same time. For some reason I could not explain, it felt as though Michael was rushing. There was a sense of urgency to his movements. His kisses were different. The gentleness was gone and was replaced by something akin to desperation.

His hands found mine and our fingers interlaced. Pushing my senseless worries away, I took a deep breath and drew his scent in. Soap and sweat and Michael.

I removed my hands from his and worked to find the hem of his shirt. My fingers grabbed the soft fabric of his top and pulled it over his head, breaking our kiss. He stared at me and for a moment I thought his hazel eyes were shining. Feeling the unquenchable thirst rock my being at his stares, I swallowed hard. I did not want to waste another precious second so I pulled him closer to me again.

A grunt erupted from my throat as Michael's lips found mine. I closed my eyes and drowned myself in the darkness behind my eyelids. His hands moved with expertise across my thighs until they reached my waist. I felt his calloused fingers lift the bottom of my blouse. A tingling feeling much like tiny pokes of lightning crawled all over my skin. I arched my back, signaling him to take my clothes off.

He didn't, though.

Instead, he stopped kissing me at once. Surprise gripped me like a vise that I opened my eyes and stared at him. He let go of the hem of my top and drew his face away. With one swift move, he rolled off of me and stood up by the side of the bed.

"Why did you s-stop?" I asked. My voice caught slightly at the words so I cleared my throat. "What's wrong, Michael?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he walked toward where I threw his shirt. Bending over, he picked it up from the floor. He then went to the corner and flicked the light switch on. The harsh glow of the LED filled the apartment, making me wince.

Without Michael's warmth, I felt cold all of a sudden. I sat up on the bed, draping the comforter over my body. "Can you stop ignoring me for a second and tell me what is going on, Michael?"

He turned to face me just as he slid his clothes over his head. "Nothing's going on, Kaylene," he blurted out. Angel boy then straightened the wrinkles of his shirt with the back of his hands. "I'm just... tired. That's all," he said and made his way toward the door.

A strong pounding started in my chest as I followed him with my eyes. My head still felt light from portaling from Tel Aviv that I thought I saw my vision spin. I blinked hard to shake it away. It did not work. "Where are you going?"

Michael opened the door. "I'm going to the New York Sanctum," he said without turning to look at me. "I don't think I can sleep here tonight. I don't want any more nightmares." He craned his head to the side and looked at me with the corner of his vision. "You can come if you want. There are tons of rooms there where you can sleep in."

A hot swelling started at the back of my eyes. My throat muscles clenched and I fought hard to push words out of my mouth. Nothing came out.

When I did not answer, Michael stepped outside the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Something cracked between my lungs and the tears that I was holding back rolled down the sides of my face. Feeling overwhelmed by the weight of everything that has happened, I curled myself up into a ball and wished that the bed I was in would just swallow me whole.

- 0 -

The first sunrise.

Morning came faster than I thought it would. Streams of rich sunshine filtered through the windows, welcoming the world into another day. I did not feel welcomed, though.

Since Michael had left for the Sanctum, I spent the rest of the night counting seconds staring at the wall. Rest evaded me and even though I was bone-tired, I wasn't able to sleep. My mind kept on whirling back to the image of Angel boy stepping outside his room. Like a broken movie, it played inside my head in an endless loop. I only saw the side of his face as he did not fully turn around to look at me, but it was enough to let me see the emptiness in his expression. What is going on with Michael? Why is he acting weird all of a sudden?

I was spared from answering my own mental questions when a blaring noise pierced the silence. A surge of energy woke my numb muscles and I scrambled to reach for my phone on top of the bedside table. Sitting up, I unlocked to see who texted me. My heart sank as I saw that it wasn't Michael.

Are you up? I'm going with Karmi to Slovenia. She could help us decide with that Chazava-something matter of ours. Wanna come?

It was from Jason. With a sigh, I pressed some keys on my phone and sent him a quick reply.

Can't. I'm going to see someone.

Who?

Just someone.

Whoa. Keeping secrets now, are we? Just be safe, mmkay? I'll text you once I'm back.

Trying my best to smile, I locked my phone and plopped it onto the bed. Another audible sigh left my lips as I removed the damned comforter off of my body, exposing my legs to the early morning chill. Are we in a fight? my mind asked as I stood up. Maybe, we are in a fight. But, what are we fighting over?

Deciding that I cannot just mull over my misery, I walked toward the bath. I took a quick shower, hoping it would wash my problems away. However, I realized that no amount of Head and Shoulders shampoo could do that. If it did, I would even drink the stuff just to make sure all my troubles disappear.

I stepped out of the bath, dried myself and slipped a pair of jeans and a pink tank top on. After I tied my still-wet hair into a messy bun, I plucked my smartphone off of the bed and went to the door. Soon enough, I found myself outside Angel boy's three-story apartment. New York traffic greeted my eyes and ears and the smell of hotdogs underlined the crisp air. My stomach grumbled, but I ignored it as I wasn't really a fan of breakfasts.

Taking a long draft of the morning air, I looked down on the phone in my hand and typed a hasty text.

Meet me now. The usual. 6th Avenue.

As soon as a tiny blue check mark appeared at the bottom of the screen, I pocketed my phone. I half-ran toward the rendezvous on 6th, hoping my breaking heart could make it there without shattering into a million pieces.