Re: [A-Gunster-hunting we will go.]
Adrian still remembered what it was like to wish he was no one, nowhere. After he left Repose as a boy, before the first owl came, he would often sit quietly and wish to be nothing. When he got angry, or when the tight feeling in his chest got heavy and dangerous, he would wish harder, screw himself down until it went away.
Over the years, that feeling had happened less and less. After he left school and ran, it got worse again, but never so bad as when he was small.
Now that desire to be nowhere warred with the aching temptation to just let loose. At least then he would know how bad it could be. Even if just for a moment, he could be free. He wouldn't have to think about missing time, or unaccounted for behaviors. And no one could hurt him, could they? He'd seen that today. No one could touch him. There would be no fear anymore.
There wasn't even anyone here to be hurt. Was there?
No. There were two small figures on the street, approaching the building. The wind whipped any sound away, but he saw a man with blonde hair, and a shock of white next to him, and he knew.
He stepped back from the edge of the concrete floor. Had he been alone too long, or did he just not expect to be missed? Either way, Connie and Patrick weren't supposed to be here. The sight of them snapped him out of lingering on the temptation of dissolving and tearing the building to pieces. Cold fear ran through him, and that of course made the heavy, hard feeling inside him worse. They could be hurt, and he needed to be as far away from them as possible.
He would no doubt have been visible to them on his perch, since he'd been standing so close to the edge. Now he moved away, heading for the stairs. He'd go up. Top floor, as far as he could go. If he was lucky, they hadn't seen them. His hand shook when it laid against the concrete wall beside the stairs, and black flowed under his fingernails.