Gloss - Jezebel


The bubbly whispers echoed across the shadowed garage, with bucket-holes of light shining through the crevices in the metal door.
The ginger-headed girl stole across the room, fingers coiled across the boy's arm, as the two of them made their way through the paint cans and wrenches.

"Nobody's here, it's fine!" laughed the boy, at ease.

"Someone could be, Josh!" she reminded him, leaning against a broomstick. His eyelashes fanned across his pale cheeks in the dark night, and she gazed at him appreciatively. "If my father found ou - "

The broom slipped on to a can of gloss, and they both clattered violently to the ground, their echoes deafening.


The End

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