Cigarette Burns // FP Jones

Chapter Eighteen

I woke up beside FP, trying to make the most of the moment we had beside one another. My index finger trailed down his chest, feeling all crevices of hairs, small bumps and nicks. I never thought I'd see this side to him, after first meeting him as a Serpent King. But he was more vulnerable now than he'd ever been, not that it had scared me away. If anything, I liked the Jones male more for allowing me to see such a side to him. The two of us had been intimate the night before, as my bleeding had stopped. The scar had become sore, though he went slow enough to leave it undisturbed. The two of us were aching emotionally, though. FP was worried about further pregnancies, my safety, Jughead and the Serpents. The only thing I feared was Malachai. Not just him, but the knowledge that if FP were to see him again, he'd kill him. 

"Good morning." He'd whispered, and I breathed in deeply, smelling the morning air. I wrapped the arm back around him, tightening my grip. I could hear his heartbeat from laying my head onto his lightly toned pectorals, causing me to close my eyes, and to focus on it. He'd had a regular rhythm, which was somewhat comforting. In such a messed up time, there was something normal. I could stay there forever, taking in the world through him. The silence was something I liked about living with FP, it was adult. Living in the small trailer kept me in reality; something I hadn't gotten a lot of beforehand.
"Morning, babe." I replied, anxious of the use of the word. My eyes darted to his face, where his lips curved up into a smile. Something I hadn't seen for a while, and made my heart skip a beat. Seeing my man happy made me want to shout to the high Heavens, because it was something I felt rarely happened anymore. Living in the wondrous facade that all things were dandy was what had been for this brief moment, which explained why it felt so relaxed. 
"Babe? Only I've called you that." He said, causing me to turn red. 
"Well, I thought I would test it." I replied, hiding my face back into his chest. I thought back to when I saw him at the Wyrm, and how badly I'd wanted him. Things had turned around so quickly. I'd tried to make a move on him under the old blanket, and staying in Jug's room, his flowers in hospital, the unfortunate events at my household... But so many things had come out of FP. I was the member of a gang, a gang in which everyone had my back. I couldn't have asked for better friends. After years of pretending to be someone I wasn't, I felt comfortable with being me. After meaningless fucks, after drugs, alcohol, pain and loneliness I had a place I truly felt home. I sighed, appreciating everything in that moment. FP stared, and began to reply to my previous comment, with some anxiety. 
"Well, you are my girlfriend after all." FP spoke, quieter this time, and I looked back up to him slowly. 
"Girlfriend?" I asked. it had been the first time he'd referred to me as something like that, in fact I'd never heard him even call me a 'friend'. It was comforting, though, and he was right. I'd been 'dating' him for a while now, even if it hadn't been official. And I'd been happy. 
"Yeah." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I smiled, accepting the hug. 
"I love you." I whispered, feeling cozy in his arms. 

There was a knock at the door, tearing us sadly apart, and meaning FP had to throw a shirt over his chest. He wandered through the hall, and to the door. As he opened it, I too got up, dressing myself. I wore one of his shirts and a pair of panties, before leaving the room. His clothes were awfully baggy on me, considering I was so short, but I liked that. Continuing out of the room, I was startled by the sound of a loud crash, and immediately froze. Instead of the normal, quick walk I had been doing before, I crept, slowly. Poking my head around the door, I saw him; Malachai. He was in a hustle with FP, heaped on the floor, at one another's throats. There was a series of small grunts, and slapping, punching and rustling noises, all of which terrified me. At this point, I felt like a deer in headlights. They rolled around, and I stood quietly, unsure of what I was expected to do at this point in time. It proceeded until the monster was on top of FP for a while, and I was left to watch as my partner was being throttled. The horror and discpmfort in which I was in had caused me to grab the nearest object - a lamp - and run to them, hitting Malachai around the head. He flinched, falling to the floor. Of course he hadn't been knocked out, I knew that, he was playing dead so he could get up later and use the power of surprise against us. 

I watched as he sprung up, grabbing my arm, scratching the skin deeply. My skin burned, and I observed as he dug deeper, allowing blood to seethe from the fresh wound. It was a difficult situation, in which I wanted to beat the shit out of the male in front of me, but I felt I couldn't. The fear I felt with Malachai before me was immense, so much so I felt as if I was paralyzed. FP lunged, tackling him to the floor as I watched, in awe. He wrapped his long fingers around the boy's neck, choking him. I was sure FP was killing him; after the man's trauma, I didn't doubt he'd kill him. And I couldn't stop him, instead frozen still, watching my boyfriend over a boy my age, murdering him. I was conflicted in that moment, would I make him stop, or go to prison? Malachai became lifeless, but FP continued, which would mean he'd lose his life. Quickly yet extremely reluctantly, I grabbed FP's shoulder, pulling him back. He let go, sat over Malachai's unconscious body, breathing heavily. 
"Tie him up." The words escaped out, but I knew exactly what I wanted. As of now, I cared about my baby, and what he did to him or her. And, not forgetting the pain, destruction and everything else that came after it. 

FP obeyed my command. He went to the closet, pulling out an old brown rope, and tying it around the hands and feet of the boy before us. We both weren't entirely sure as to what we were doing, though acted to each other like we had. It was blatant from this moment that something awful was going to happen because of the recent turn of events, though we had no idea as to what it would be. Instead, we blindly aided one another in tying an eighteen year old to a chair, and working out what to do with him. 

-

sorry its late n short - say hi to extreme writer's block xoxo