Archie: The Approach of Evening

I pushed the door of the cupboard open a crack, spotting that dog right in front of me, waiting.

"What?" I asked, opening the door more. Busker looked at me expectantly, barking quietly. "Find your own hiding place." I instructed, pulling the door shut.

It was pitch black and cramped in there, a couple of old hangers resting on top of my head. I held my golf club close to my body, pressing my ear close up to the door. I could hear footsteps approaching.

They couldn't have found me that quickly. The footsteps moved in my direction, stopping at the cupboard. No, not like this. I tried to hold the doors shut but I could feel someone, something on the other side trying to pull them open. I couldn't hold them shut, not from my crouched position.

The doors flung open and I stifled a scream.

It was Evie.

"Shut them out?" I asked calmly. She nodded simply, looking at me with eyes full of disgust. I grabbed the edges of the confined space and pulled, letting myself tumble onto the floor at her feet. I looked up to her, offering her a weak little smile. "Well done you but in case you hadn't noticed, without your interference, you wouldn't have needed to do that." She looked at me blankly. Ugh.

"I can't see a way out." she informed me, looking for Busker. He was sat just behind her, watching me like a hawk.

"So that means you're staying?" I asked, already knowing the answer. She nodded. "Sleepover!" I screamed, lacing my voice with sarcasm. "Fancy a makeover?"

She glared at me, making me smile. Maybe she wasn't all bad. I knew in an instant how I was going to get through that night. "I'll be in there." She pointed to the connecting room.

"Evie. One question." The girl turned to face me as I picked myself up off of the ground and dusted myself off lightly.

"What?" she asked, her lips frowning.

"How old are you?"

"What?" she seemed taken aback, looking at me like I had just asked some perverted question.

I stepped closer. "It's a perfectly simple question. How old are you?" I stepped to look at her from the side. "What is your age?" I darted around her to look at her from another angle. "How many times has the Earth rotated around the sun since…?"

She didn't let me finish my last question, annoying me since it had a great ending. "16." she replied, turning to leave.

"See I'd have said a little younger." I let my voice drift into a camper accent. "With hair like this and a fashion sense like you have, I'd have put my money on nearer 14. 13 maybe."

She looked me straight in the eyes and I could see it; the fire and the passion. I was messing with the wrong girl. Part of me thought she was going to slap me for that and an even smaller part of me hoped she would, not out of some kinky desire but out of the need to know that this was all real. In the end, she didn't, choosing to leave, slamming the door.

"16 eh?" I muttered to myself. I surveyed the room, wondering if it was secure. My eyes told me it wasn't so I pulled the cupboard over and smashed it up, using the remains to fortify the door and windows. My right hand slipped into my pocket, pulling out a load of nails. I smiled, mentally thanking Henry for teaching me that.

I left the door between our rooms alone, thinking that her assistance might prove vital to my survival. I tested the door, only opening it a crack. I smiled to myself, wondering if I could get under her skin. Normally I wouldn't and in the circumstances, the thought of mentally unnerving someone else would be the farthest thing from my mind but after everything that had gone on between us, I decided otherwise.

"I suppose she is quite attractive." I said, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough so that she wouldn't get too suspicious. "I reckon I'd have gone for her."

I decided to leave it at that for the moment, not wanting to do too much too soon. I moved away from the door, leaving it ajar, and stood by the window, looking through a small crack between the boards of the cupboard.

They were out there, moaning as they always did. "Graveyard orgy." I mumbled to them, not really thinking about what I was saying. "Not the time." I slid to the floor and tried to concentrate on anything other than Ingrid kissing me or the sight of Wilson with his insides all over the place.

It was going to be a long night.

The End

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