Mascara Tears [ON HOLD]

7. A Bittersweet Victory

Mel

-*-

Mel sat cross-legged on the dusty floor of the old factory building. She knew she’d regret the cement dust that was surely going to cling to her skin and dirty the denim fabric of her tight blue shorts. Even after being on the streets for almost three months she still grew annoyed at how quickly dirt seemed to attach itself to her.

At that very moment though, she disregarded the dirt and sat, focused on rummaging through the plastic bag Ace had come bearing.

‘Where’d we get these?’ She asked, holding up a pack of doughnuts.

‘At a flower shop.’ Ace replied.

Mel rolled her eyes.

‘That’s not even good sarcasm.’

‘I’m not being sarcastic. The guy even tried to sell me roses.’

‘And you didn’t think to get me one?’ She raised a playful eyebrow at him.

‘I thought about it… none of the colours made sense.’

‘Red?’

‘They didn’t have yellow.’

Mel was quiet for a while, then;

‘How is she?’

‘She…?’ Seeing Mel’s knowing eyes made Ace change his response. ‘She almost said something to me.’

‘And...?’

‘Her parents stopped her.’

‘I like her parents.’

‘I’m no longer going to visit her.’ Ace announced, as if he’d just decided and was announcing it to himself and ensuring that he heard it.

Mel’s eyes lit up at his announcement, though she also grew concerned.

‘Why?’

‘It’s causing her trouble, and I already have you to take care of.’

Mel stopped unpacking the food altogether and stared at Ace, dumbfounded at his words. This was it! She realized. She’d won, she’d finally won. Months spent competing with a girl who didn’t even know her and she’d won! She smiled a pained smile. It was not the victory she’d imagined. She thought Ace would gradually move on from his fixation to the suburban girl and simply fall for her. She was always by his side so it only made sense.

She would take this victory though. She cared enough for him to shed a tear for his unfair loss but her smile would not falter. She finally had all his attention.

Without giving a response to what he had said, she stood and walked up to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and their gazes locked. He did not step back like he normally would. He did not start a conversation to evade the moment. He even leaned closer to her, inviting. So she cast away her doubtful thoughts and allowed herself to melt into him.

Their lips brushed against each other, lingering, hesitant. Had his always been this soft? This warm?

She felt his hand rising up her side, pulling her closer. He was kissing her now, tongues locked in a euphoric dance. So… so warm. And his heart… It thumped, raging like a tempest, animalistic. Her own heart was now a distant thing, pushed back to- No, she was the one being pushed back.

Was that a doughnut I kicked? The thought only flirted by.

His hand had her leg up now, firmly holding it at the thigh. Her breath caught. Her back hit the wall-

‘Oww!’ Pain suddenly shot through her body and blood stained their shirts.

‘I’m sorry.’ Ace was instantly back to his own self. The passion dispersing as quickly as it had arrived. Before she could protest he had her shirt off and pressed against her wound.

‘That stung a bit.’ She said, now lying on her back.

‘We didn’t really think that through now did we?’ Ace commented, smirking.

She smirked back, cheeks a deep red.

‘No, we did not.’

‘You ready?’

She gritted her teeth and nodded. He lifted the shirt and did a quick inspection of the damage. His relieved sigh told her everything she needed to know.

‘I’ll just stich it so it heals faster. Don’t think I’ll put the bandages back on though.’

‘Stiches?’ She asked, the pleading in her voice sending a different message.

‘I have to.’ His face saddened. ‘I need you moving soon, I should have thought about that before- anyways you can’t stay here during the job with Malo.’

‘Where’ll I go?’

‘You’ll join in the job. Malo can’t make you a hostage if you are part of the crew.’

‘But… I’ll slow you down. She won’t allow it.’

‘She will.’ He said this with absolute certainty. ‘The gangs are meeting tomorrow according to what Ham’s note says.’

He dug into his pocket with one hand, the other holding her shirt over the wound, and retrieved a scrunched up piece of paper. He unfolded it and showed it to her.

‘You’ll also be attending.’ He continued. ‘I’ll find you a piece you can do, be the lookout or something. Just so I can keep my eye on you.’

She nodded uncertainly.

He handed her the paper.

‘Hold on to this.’

He lifted the shirt again. The blood had stopped. He stood and left her, walking over to where he kept his tools.

She stared at the piece of paper, now with a blood stain on the corner where Ace had held it. She smiled to herself, enjoying her bittersweet victory.

-*-