CHICAGO IS DANGEROUS

A one-shot by August Riddle


"You are crazy, Johnnie!"

Billie said these words through a fit of enticing, melodic laughter. The waves of her charming voice allured me like a french lullaby. It sounded like a bird singing sweetly in the kiss of sunrise, and the gentle, flowing echoes of wind chimes. Her bright nature slowly made its way in my soul as we floundered across the dance floor with what was supposed to be a waltz. She and I were just couple out of the many others, but it felt like it was just the two of us - dancing, if this horrendous motion even deserved the name.

I smirked at her through my awkward movements. I was never one to dance - nor did I ever expected to do so tonight, in Chicago - of all places. But when I look at her, with that sweet smile she bore that never fails to capture me, those sly blue eyes that always kept me guessing, the thick wavy curls of her deep brown hair - her very presence, made me feel like I could do anything. Anything at all.

"Doll, the whole world's a crazy place. Me? I ain't nothin' but a psychopath." I told her, humouring her as I stared down her face, attempting to meet her eyes that rejected mine as she looked away. The shadows that the lighting of the dance floor made, covered what I could see of her. I frowned, "After all this time of being my girl, you just got shy?"

As soon as we advanced a few paces, Billie slowly began shaking her head, rejecting my assumptions. She looked up slightly only to have her eyes to my chest - keeping it there as we swayed, "When I said I wanted to dance with you again, it was nothing but wishful thinking. I... I didn't expect for us to actually - Johnnie this is dangerous, Chicago is dangerous." she told me sternly, her voice was filled with hesitation as her words came out in stutters.

"So what if we're in Chicago?" I retorted with all my confidence, the sentimental sound of jazz and the smooth vocals of the female singer blended into a slur, immersing our ears with the sound of music. "Chicago's an old friend, a love and hate relationship. I go to her 'cause she's got the doe, yet she's a devil 'cause she killed my friends. But... I thank her for givin' me my girl."

When I spoke those last few words, she looked up at me and her face lit up just slight - enough to let me know that I made her happy despite her growing remorse. We slowed to a patch of the dance floor, that later transitioned into a pause.

I slipped off the hand I had under her arm, using it to brush the strands that glided on her face and glazed my eyes with hers, "Listen darlin', if there's anythin' I learnt from all the stuff I been through, is that borrowed time ain't borrowed at all." I continued, only to find her frowning at me again, "It's a type of... Situation - a sort that remind us to appreciate ev'ry minute we got, 'cause we don't know how much we got and I'm not sittin' 'round to find out. I want to spend 'em with you. I've got one job left Billie, it's big money. Then we'll run away. Far away."

Billie looked at me with glistening eyes for the first time that night. I'd do anything to be with her, and this was why. "But where would we go Johnnie?" she frowned in worry, her mind began filling with thoughts too many to know.

"Anywhere you want, doll." I assured her in a whisper as I pressed my warm cheek against her soft ones, grasping her hand tightly, feeling her body pressed against mine. I missed her too long, "We'll be free."