The second to last chapter in Kingdom Came - its ending soon folks!
I do not own Life is Strange nor any of its Affiliates, nor do I own any Bright Eyes song
Max rose, arching her back as she stretched her hands high above her mussed brown hair. She held her waist in place, turning right and left - crack, crack - and laced her fingers together, pushing them forward for another satisfying crack. She rubbed the sand from her unfocused eyes, yawning. The smell of breakfast wafted from the kitchen below, strong in the bedroom despite distance.
Chloe still dozed, comfortable beneath her sheets. Her blue locks were splayed against her pillow in a messy pool, which shifted as she turned in the final moments of a half-dream. Max dipped to meet her lips, kissing them softly. Chloe's eyes fluttered open, soft with sleep. She returned the kiss, lifting a palm to meet Max's cheek. The morning light swept the room with its golden fingers as it filtered through the blinds. The muted din of birdsong could be heard.
"Hello," Max said.
"Buenos deez-nuts," Chloe replied, and soon they were giggling together. Chloe propped herself up on her elbows. "What time is it?" she asked, to which Max responded by showing her her illuminated phone screen. "It's time for us to go back to sleep." Chloe pulled at Max's shoulders, hugging her tightly; all the while Max squirmed, laughing. She dragged her down to the bed and began to kiss her again.
"As much as I love your morning breath, we have to get up. Joyce is making us breakfast," Max said into Chloe's mouth as she smiled. "I know it's gross but I'm going to have to use your toothbrush, Chloe Price." Chloe gave a dutiful nod, then sat up, swinging her bare legs off the side of the bed. She rose to her feet in search of clothes, which she soon found scattered on the floor.
Max gathered her own shirt and pants and checked her appearance in the mirror. She smoothed down her hair and straightened out her top. Chloe sidled up behind her, lacing her forearms around Max's hips. She nipped at her neck. "The hickeys are just starting to fade, Chloe, don't you fucking dare." Max swatted Chloe's face away, and nearly jumped out of her socks as an enormous bumble bee appeared from nowhere.
It buzzed in the air, unwitting to the horror of Max and Chloe as they shot across the room, yelling obscenities. "Fuck! Max! Kill it!" Max shook her head and gave a vehement NO, to which Chloe replied, "Fucking kill it Max! Be the hero you were born to be!" They gasped, dodging the bee as it sped toward them. "Ah! Holy shit run!" They darted back and forth, bouncing off each other. "Open the window!"
"It'll only let in other bees!"
"Good thinking Max!" Chloe shouted, still in panic mode. She jumped across her bed and found a stack of papers on her desk, which she promptly rolled into a makeshift weapon. "We've got to end this, right here, right now. If I don't mark my territory, this bee will spread the word to other bees that my room is the newest chill spot." Chloe ducked and dodged as the harmless bee buzzed along, clueless to the two girls avoiding it. It landed on a poster.
"Give me a sheet of paper!" Max commanded; Chloe soon handed her a piece. The younger girl moved to the poster, wedging the paper beneath the bees legs. It soon crawled on, and Max lowered the page to the window sill. She opened the window, slid the bee out, and quickly pressed it shut. The tension in the room dissolved. Chloe wrapped Max in a hug.
"I was so scared," she murmured, "You saved us. What can I ever do to repay you."
"You can suck my dick," Max replied, and they both burst into laughter. "Let's go downstairs, Joyce is waiting for us." Wrapping an arm around Max, both her and Chloe exited the room and descended the staircase to where Joyce was waiting, a hand on her hip.
Victoria ran, her face toward the cold Fall sky above. She dashed across rocks and down a steep dirt trail, her chest heaving beneath a grey tank top darkened with sweat. All around her trees sped by in shades of pine-needle green and bark brown. A frightened fawn dipped back into the undergrowth as the blonde passed, turning to watch as she jogged by. The pleasant din of birdsong was drowned out by music from a pair of earphones.
Squatters made a mural of a Mexican girl, with fifteen cans of spray paint and a chemical swirl, she's standing in the ashes at the end of the world, four winds blowing through her hair. Still running, Victoria leveled her phone with her eyes, switching the song. Bright Eyes had only served to remind her of that waif hipster Max Caulfield. The image of her bloodied mouth still burned like a flame in her roiling mind. She had been so aggressive, so uncharacteristically dominant. At the time it scared her, but in retrospect it was kind of…
Victoria shook her head, ridding herself of unwanted thoughts. She had moved on from the experience; it had faded behind her like a speed limit sign in her rearview mirror, holding her back. She didn't need another hindrance. She just needed to finish the school year without acknowledging Max; the prospect seemed unlikely. In her heart of hearts, she still harbored inklings (of inklings) of feelings for the younger girl; beyond that, she admired her work most among her other classmates.
Shaking her head again, Victoria continued to jog. The trail beneath her began to wind, signaling her proximity to Blackwell Academy. Within a minute, the school came into view, and the town beyond it soon followed. She watched with detached interest as insect-like cars entered and exited the parking lot, then turned her attention to the distant coast. Waves bullied the beaten shore, one after the other in unrelenting succession. In ten minutes time, Victoria had made her way down to Blackwell. She slowed to a walk, moving in the direction of the girls dormitory. She arrived after a small time, ascended the staircase, and stopped by her door.
'Meet me in my room at 4. We need to talk. - Max' her whiteboard read. Victoria glanced at her phone: it was half past. She briefly wondered if she should take a shower first, but decided against it. Why should she bother to look her best? She had no one to impress, certainly not Max. She steeled her resolve and walked over to Max's door, knocking four times. There was a panicked moment in which Victoria took a step back, unsure of herself. She was allotted no time to leave however, because the door opened shortly afterward.
"Hey," Max said, looking up at her with wide, doe eyes innocent of any wrong.
"H-hey," Victoria stammered. She soon assumed her cold indifference, spitting, "What the fuck do you want?" She looked away so Max couldn't see her pained expression. The younger girl fidgeted a bit, then moved from the doorway. She motioned for Victoria to come in, and the blonde obliged. Victoria looked around the room: her eyes scanned the wall of photographs, Max's cluttered desk, and the hillocks of clothes scattered against the walls. Max made a pitiful attempt to clean up before turning to Victoria.
"First and foremost, I wanted to apologize Victoria. I shouldn't have," Max gave a nervous laugh, "bit you, and been such a bitch. That's not the kind of person that I want to be, especially not to you. Believe it or not I regard you as a friend," she paused, "and I treasure our friendship." Victoria avoided her eyes, glancing down. Her clothes were plastered to her bare, slick cleavage and collar bones, drawing Max's attention for a moment. "Anyway," she continued, "that's all I wanted to say to you. I'd understand if you wanted nothing to do with me anymore, I kind of deserve it."
"Yeah, you do," Victoria shot back, her tone unyielding in its harshness. "You're so two-faced Max. One second you're shy, and the next you fucking attack me like some kind of wild animal! I have no idea what to think. Because… because…" Tears welled up around the corners of Victoria's hurt blue eyes. "Because I have feelings for you Max."
"Victoria, I…" Max began, but fell short. The guilt she felt burned in her chest, turning her words to ash. She knew her indecisiveness would eventually lead to someone getting hurt, it was only a matter of 'when'. And that 'when' had arrived, the impact shaking Max to the core. Should she accept Victoria's feelings, and spurn Chloe? Or should she disregard Victoria's words and run to the arms of her childhood friend? Max knew that Victoria had it within her to change, but could she be the one to change her? She suddenly recalled Mr. Jefferson's words:
Who would you have take your moment - who would you give it to?
Max thought of the photographs, of Victoria's smile and Chloe's solitude. In the course of a split-second, she knew what she was going to do. What she had to do. "Victoria," she whispered, her voice growing, "I'm not the one for you. I thought we could've been something, but it's clear we aren't compatible. You're too you, and I'm too me for this to work." Tears ran freely down Victoria's cheeks. "I can't love you."
And so ends a dramatic chapter - Max's decision has been made. I cherish every review ;)