Briar wiggled his nose. The thing tickling it disappeared for a few seconds, but then returned. He wriggled his nose again, unwilling to rise from his comfortable unconsciousness.
He was then aware of his freezing feet, and the sharp thing jutting into his lower back. His moaned softly, opening his eyes. He automatically thought, five more minutes… But then he saw the thing that was tickling his nose.
Sandry's brown hair was tussled, and she looked peaceful in sleep. Her head was tucked into his chest, and she was curled up on her side. He looked at himself, and thought wryly, No wonder my feet are cold- she stole the blanket. Most of the blanket was swaddled around her, tucked up to her chin so only her face peeked out of it.
The sun began to rise over the horizon, dyeing the sky pink and yellow, fading into blue. Briar didn't want to wake Sandry, but he desperately needed to move. The thing jutting into his side became more pronounced with every moment he lay there, not moving. He shifted slightly, then froze as Sandry mumbled in her sleep. He couldn't make out what she said, but he was certain he heard his name.
He frowned. Why would she be dreaming about him? They barely knew each other, and he tried very hard to spurn all her advances to be friends. Everyone around him just got hurt.
He felt a pang in his heart and he was plunged into a familiar memory- he relived it almost every night.
He met his mom outside the club she worked at, normal time, normal place. She looked weary, but she still gave him a genuine smile. Even though he was a full head taller than she, it always seemed as if he was looking up at her. She was larger than life, working two jobs so that Briar could continue in school, and eventually go to University. He didn't now his father, and didn't need to.
They never spoke much on the walks back home. They didn't need to, really. The noises of the city engulfed them even at the late hour. Laughter, shouting, horns blaring, music drifting through the air…Briar couldn't imagine a life without these noises around him.
But it's because of the constant noise that he didn't hear her soft cry.
It took him a few seconds to realise she was gone, and a moment of panic overtook him. She was right next to me! He thought wildly. He backtracked, and finally he heard it- the gruff voice of a man. Red overtook his vision and he stormed into the alley.
But too late, too late.
As he turned the corner, he heard a loud BANG! and saw his mom collapse. He stood, rooted to the spot as a dark liquid seemed to spread around her. He didn't register the man pushing past him, his mom's purse in his hand. He could only see his mom's beautiful grey eyes closing slowly…
He rushed to her side, holding the wound tightly, as if by doing that he could keep the blood inside. She gripped his hand and whispered something incoherent. He bent down to hear it again, but her grip on his hand grew weaker and weaker. Drops of moisture fell onto her face, and Briar looked up, puzzled. It wasn't raining.
Her hand fell from his, and he looked back down at her. Her grey eyes – which used to sparkle with joy and laughter – now stared lifelessly up into the rainless sky.
His scream went unheard under all that infernal noise.
Another noise brought him into the present. He looked down at another woman, and saw the same drops of wetness on her creamy skin. Her blue eyes were open and showed her worry, and she brought her hand up to his face.
He was surprised when he felt the tears on his face. When had he started crying?
Sandry sat up, her hand never leaving his face. He leaned into it, glad to feel that small bit of comfort. All this time, he had thought that he could shoulder his grief alone. His mom was his one constant in his life…and it seemed as if after her death everything was changing. He moved to an Orphanage outside the city, where the only noises at night was the chirping of crickets. His dreams of what he wanted to do when his mom was alive seemed meaningless now that his mom wouldn't be home, waiting for him.
Sandry gently pulled him close, and he rested his head on her shoulder. She was soft, and her hands stroking his back soothed him. Her voice was a melody to his ears, and he felt his grief subside bit by bit. He didn't need to be alone any more.
It was a while until he pulled away from her, roughly swiping at his eyes. She gave him an understanding smile and he frowned at her. Just because she saw him cry didn't mean that they were now friends.
She looked away from him the, her eyes distant. "I was about ten when my parents died." She gave him a small smile when he froze. He didn't want to hear about this. Crying on her shoulder was one thing, but hearing her story was something totally different. It would mean that they had something to connect them. That they'll become friends. And he wasn't ready for that. "I thought I could handle it alone, but I couldn't. Lark helped me, a lot."
He rolled his eyes. "So? That doesn't mean anything to me."
He saw the anger flash in her eyes. "It means so much more than you could think, Moss." She spat out, using his last name. His frown deepened at her angry tone. "Carrying around your grief and guilt is just going to make it worse."
They stared at each other angrily, neither willing to give a quarter. Briar was determined to get through it alone. Sandry was determined to help.
She then shrugged. "You know what? Fine." She stood up and yanked the blanket from him. "Don't think I won't try even harder, now."
Briar glowered at her, but felt a strange emotion as she descended the ladder. Why was he feeling….happy?