Chapter 20: Mixed Signals

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  • Dedicated to Jenna <3
                                    

This chapter is dedicated to my best friend's big sister who passed away from brain cancer on Friday. Her wake was yesterday, and she looked absolutely beautiful in her casket, and her funeral is in a few hours. It's a very upseting time for my best friend and my whole group of friends, but we're all staying strong and very positive. Live every moment to your fullest and please, remind those that you care about how much they mean to you. <3

Watch the Death x Faith video I made to the right with my new video editing program! It's a pretty rough edit, but it was fun nevertheless! :) Enjoy! 

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When we peered through one of the windows of Chickies Buffalo House, we saw that it was relatively packed, and I was relatively starving. We sat down a total of two minutes on a bench shaped like a baby chick, situated between two children battling for noise with plastic harmonicas, before Death and I both looked at each, got up, and walked outside side by side.

            "I know where we should go," Death said, stuffing his hands into his leather jacket and roaming his eyes over my head. I noticed he was doing that a lot. Looking around wherever we went that night. Observing. Protecting. Overprotecting, might I add.

            "And where might that be, blueberry?" I threw my hand over my mouth and burst out laughing. A hobo on the sidewalk looked at me funny.

            "Somewhere...different. Something new. For you, at least."

            Now I was kind of horrified. "Do I have to wear a dress? I'm not wearing a dress. The last time I wore a dress, it wasn't really there, and that kinda freaked me out." Death continued to smile to himself in an evil way. "I refuse to wear a dress. I refuse. You can't make me."

            Without saying a word, Death waved down a taxi and opened the door for me. When we were both inside of the vehicle, he briefly adjusted his leather jacket and ran a hand through his thick spiky hair, then turned towards me and giving me his award winning look. Death's look. Not the Death Stare, the Death Look. It was a look a guy got when he was fully aware of how attractive you find him times a million.

            "Where're we heading?" the taxi man asked, obnoxiously smacking his gum.

            "The nearest hotdog stand," I said, never breaking my gaze with Death.

            "No," Death said softly, leaning closer to me until I could count the hairs on his chiny chin chin. "I don't think so, princess. I'm treating you to something nice tonight, be thankful and stop whining."

            "I refuse to wear a dress," I whispered, keenly aware of the press of his thigh against my own. Good lord, he was so close.

            "It would make your Master very happy if you let him take you somewhere nice," Death whispered throatily. His mouth was inches from mine. "Very happy," he added, licking a little at his lip piercing. Centimeters. Millimeters. Oh god, he was so close. I parted my mouth and shut my eyes when--

            "Yoo hoo, Punk Dude and Whiner," Taxi Guy sang impatiently, tapping his steering wheel. We were still in park on the side of the road and he had been watching Death make the moves on me. "Time is money, Christian Grey. Unless you tell me in five seconds where we're heading, you'll have to talk in third person as "Master" in another vehicle."

            "Punk Dude?" Death asked in his scary voice. Suddenly, the driver was gasping for air and clutching at his throat.

            I sprung into action and slapped Death hard on the arm. "You're killing him! Stop!"

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