Sssh! It's a Secret! | Mark&Angel | heels-and-drumsticks

The filmmaker glanced around before he stepped into the building that he lived in. Clutching the front of his jacket a little tighter, he moved quickly up the flights of stairs. Claws dug through the sweater that he was wearing and into his skin, causing a flinch to cross his face. He ignored it, though, occasionally murmuring soothing things to the bulge on his chest as he moved.

He was soon at the loft door, pausing for a brief moment. He didn’t hear the sounds of untuned Fender, so he carefully cracked the door open and cautiously peered around. Mark breathed a sigh of relief when there was no sight of his pain in the ass roommate and slipped inside. It would make this part a lot easier and give him time to come up with some sort of story.

Mark knelt down and opened his jacket, gently unhooking the scraggly smokey grey kitten from his chest. He smiled faintly as it stood in place and shook for a moment before slowly and cautiously putting one tiny paw forward. However, the sound of loft door opening broke his brief moment of peace and nearly giving him a heart attack. “Shit!”

The day was going surprisingly well for Angel. She had made a very nice amount of money from drumming, some of which was going towards a new wig that Angel knew she would probably never buy and the rest towards a nice meal out with Collins. A girl was allowed to treat herself and her man after all.

Since her day was going so well, she decided to visit Mark. Angel spent a lot of time worrying about the film maker and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel any more left out than he probably already did.

The swearing caught Angel by surprise, and she frowned softly at him. "You alright there honey?" She asked, walking forwards a little cautiously.

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"Kat have you seen where my blonde wig is?"

"Uh, last I saw Melissa had it, I think."

Angel smiled softly. "I won't wear that wig today then."

"Wait what?" Angel asked, trying to catch her breath.

"Umm…" He blinked owlishly a couple of times. "Nothin’."

"Mark." Angel raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"Wait what?" Angel asked, trying to catch her breath.

"It maybe so, but it was all I could do at the time!"

Angel shook her head. "No. There must have been something."

Mark scowled. “It’s not going to work. Every single time we’ve tried at the hospital, it’s not worked. It’s just caused a hell of a lot of pain.”

"Well of course it's going to hurt. But then it'll get better and easier again. Trust me. And just because it didn't work in hospital doesn't mean it won't work here. You just have to keep trying."

My muse is dancing alone. Your muse walks in on them. - What does your muse do? Laugh? Offer to dance too? Start beatboxing? Stay there, entranced?

Angel ignored his question. “Whats this?” She asked, pushing forwards a piece of paper, her voice quiet with fear.

“

Oh… that. I— I didn’ think you’d find that.” Collins took the paper and cleared his throat, swallowing thickly. “I was gonna tell you tonight.”

"It's... it's a mistake though. It has to be. This can't be happening." Angel furiously blinked away the tears that were filling in her eyes.

Angel ignored his question. "Whats this?" She asked, pushing forwards a piece of paper, her voice quiet with fear.

"No.. don’t talk to Collins. He can’t know what I said just then. No one can. I’m always the strong one, the one who doesn’t give up but I… I don’t have the strength anymore. Six years is far too long to deal with this shit."

Melchior dropped his head, eyes cast towards the floor. Sadly none of the answers he needed were written on there like he wished they were. “Does it.. Does it really hurt that bad?” 

Angel nodded. "I can't describe it. It's just... it's so painful and so terrifying. And i's being dragged out which definitely doesn't help."

Angel looked out the window. It wasn’t that stormy. Or at least, it had been enough for her to bear. Suddenly there was a loud crack of thunder and a lightning strike, causing Angel to let out a high pitched scream. She knew that she could probably just go straight into the fort, but old habits died hard. Instead she ran into the nearest room and hid under the bed covers, trembling in fear.

Mark had ducked back under the fort, shaking at the sound. Eventually, when he realized that Angel was no longer there, he edged out from under it. It didn’t take him too long to find her. “There’s plenty of room in my fort,” he said, cautiously. “And I brought out my secret stash of candy.”

Angel peaked out of the covers and listened to Mark carefully before silently getting out of the bed. She bit her lip nervously as she walked over to the fort and carefully climbed in.