Chapter 10: Chapter Ten
Vibrations of laughter penetrated the confines of Branch's bunker. The survivalist's pointed ears twitched and turned inward, attempting to flatten out. With the afternoon always came the usual annoyances. No matter how hard he tried to fortify the walls of his home, he could still hear all the sounds from above ground. Voices he could handle, no problem. It was low, unknown bumps that caused him to squirm with nausea. He couldn't ascertain the source so his mind always flew to blame his most hated enemies, the Bergens.
Branch tightened his fist on his screwdriver when another thump, louder this time, vibrated through the carved walls of his work room. He resisted the urge to curl up at his desk, trying to focus on fixing his newest Bergen-proof invention. It was going to be a major breakthrough for the village… if it only would cooperate with him. Growling in frustration, Branch tried to force fit a misaligned screw through the side of the complicated contraption.
He could hear laughing… so it couldn't be the Bergens. The Bergens and Trolls had a peace treaty, as Poppy said. They couldn't be coming… Anxious feelings and irritation combined made his palms sweat and his breath heavy. Branch set the tool down and wiped a damp hand over his pants. The destructive thoughts in his mind were consuming. He'd do anything for a solid distraction right now to get away from it. Creek had been gone from the bunker for a few hours already and if he was completely honest with himself, he kind of missed him.
Creek's presence transformed into something Branch never thought to expect. Despite his protests, he got forced into including the purple troll in his daily life.. At first, the mere thought of speaking to him would throw him into despair, but with each passing hour, he grew more comfortable with Creek. It's the first time he's ever shared his home with another troll and it wasn't as bad as he imagined. Creek always tried to help him in different ways. Sometimes his enthusiasm was awkward and Branch didn't know how to respond, but he could appreciate the efforts. He knew that the guy was trying hard, but he didn't know why. Trying hard to be his friend? Did Creek have a secret, ulterior motive? It seemed doubtful. There was nothing Branch had that would be interesting enough to want. Branch was reclusive and unsocial. He worked day in and day out, protecting himself from a potential attack. He had no friends, no family, and he liked it that way. In the face of everything, he still missed the damn troll.
Branch winced when a sharp rap on his door sounded. He fumbled his screwdriver and set it down quickly, clearing his throat, "C-Come in," he called.
"BRANCH, HEY THERE!"
The door burst open and though he expected a humble hello from Creek, he was greeted with a loud, bouncing pink troll entering dramatically with a cartwheel. Branch jumped backwards out of his stool and it clattered to the floor while he braced himself against the table.
"Poppy?! How'd you get in here," he gasped.
She leapt up to her feet and laughed, dusting her hands together. "Oh please, you can't keep me out. I mean… unless you have a giant metal padlock attached to your front door, but you didn't this time. So here I am!"
"Here you are," he repeated with distaste. "Should I make my anti-Poppy lock a permanent thing? You could at least knock before breaking in."
"What are you talking about? I did knock," she said, gesturing to wooden door behind her.
"No, Poppy, I meant the front door!" Branch slapped his forehead, wondering if Poppy really was an airhead.
"Sheesh, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I'll try that next time, okay?"
Branch stared at the pink troll blankly. "I'm sure you will… so, what do you want, your Highness?"
She grinned to herself and sauntered up to Branch, looking especially suspicious today. Red flags waved sporadically through his head, but Branch straightened and stood his ground while she met his stance.
"As your loving, caring, queen-in-training, I've come to cordially invite you to –,"
"Stop right there," Branch said loudly, holding up a finger to her face. "No," he concluded.
"I didn't even get to finish!" Poppy pouted her lower lip and shoved his gesture away.
"I don't need you to finish to know what the answer is. It's the same answer every. Single. Time." Branch knelt to scoop up his stool from the ground, then sat down on it with his arms crossed over his chest. She couldn't get everything she wanted in life, especially from him. He'd already done her plenty of favors and all he wanted was peace and quiet. He'd fight her to the teeth if that's what she wanted.
Poppy's brow furrowed menacingly and she put her tiny hands on her hips. "I don't care what your answer is, you're coming to the Autumn carnival even if I have to drag you there by your hair!"
Branch sighed through a lip trill and asked, "A carnival huh? When is that even a thing?" That was something different. Usually he was invited to some get-together to celebrate something that didn't need to be celebrated. His curiosity peaked, but his rejection would stand firm.
"I made it a thing just today," she said smugly. "Everyone is going to show up and have a wonderful time. That includes you. It's a new holiday initiation and all the trolls need to be there. It's going to be beautiful with the weather we've been getting."
"'Holiday initiation'," Branch mocked, quoting the air with his fingers. "Sounds pretty fishy. I guess the only way I'm going is if you drag me there because there's no way I'm participating in such a stupid party."
"First of all, it's a carnival, not a party. Secondly, don't test me because I will do it," Poppy huffed.
"You know Poppy, carnivals are also known as a Bergen buffets," Branch smirked, picking up his screwdriver and turning his back to the princess. He rolled the tool in his hand and tapped the tip on his desk, waiting for her to counter the snarky comment. She didn't at first, making a depressed little whine. Branch frowned and his shoulders sagged. Poppy had to be tired of this same old song and dance just like he was. Sometimes he got kicks out of refusing all the nonsense she threw at him, and sometimes he felt guilty that he always refused.
Poppy reached into her pink stalk of hair and pulled out a deep orange envelope, then held it in her hands for a moment to admire the color. "Will you at least accept the invitation and think about it?" she asked. Branch peeked over his shoulder, seeing the envelope with a sharp grimace.
"There's no glitter!" Poppy said quickly. "I didn't put glitter in it this time. I know you don't like it. Just please take a look?" She stepped closer to him and held out the invitation gently. "I made this just for you..."
Poppy gave him the biggest, wettest eyes he'd ever seen her make in a long while. He hated that he was weak to the princess in so many ways. It probably had to do with her being the only troll that gave a damn about him. Branch rubbed his hand over his face and snatched the orange invitation. "Fine, but this doesn't mean I'm going." Poppy squealed through her teeth and stepped back, smiling wide and giving the grey troll some space. Carefully lifting the tab, he prayed that she wasn't lying about the glitter but prepared himself mentally for the shiny surprise.
The card inside was simple, a lighter brown tone littered with drawings of leaves. The reds, orange, and yellow tones were very pleasing to the eye. Branch's favorite season was Fall because of the darker shades of Earth and the cooler weather. He appreciated the art immensely, but bristled up to hide the fact. Poppy was incredibly conniving when she wanted to be. He opened the card and his eyes widened, noticing there wasn't anything inside but two slips of deep red paper and some golden written words 'You're invited!'. No glitter, no pop-up felt trolls, no screaming or recorded music. That was entirely odd.
Branch looked up at her in surprise and she just smiled at him, nodding towards the red slips. Setting the card aside on the table, Branch inspected the glossy papers, finding that they were actually tickets to the event.
"Tickets?" he asked. "Why do I need a ticket to get in if all the trolls have to be there?"
"They're tickets for something else," Poppy said. "There's going to be games, rides, and so many other fun things to do. But you need a plus one! You can use it to ask them to go with you and you can play at the carnival together! You don't have to do anything else with the rest of the village. It's like a private.. er… thing. A two-for-one thing… yeah." Poppy whistled lightly and ignored his questioning look.
Branch quirked up his eyebrow and set the tickets down with the rest of the invite. "Um, okay… But I'm not going, Poppy. I'll say it as many times as I need to get through that cotton candy brain of yours."
"But why, Branch? Why won't you go? Tell me real the reason." Poppy continued to pout like it was going to be the end of the world. Looks like the little pink troll still had some fight left in her.
"Bergens," he said roughly. "That is the real reason."
"Oh my God, Branch, please. The Bergens are your friends now, you don't have to worry about them."
"Nah-ah-ah. They're your friends." Branch ran a worried hand through his black hair and turned his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek. His anxiety was starting to bubble up again from all this Bergen talk. "The loud noise will bring them straight to us, and the ones that aren't your friends are going to bring disaster to the village."
"We've had louder parties before and nothing happened. This will a whole lot more low key, I promise! No Bergens are invited and none are going to show up."
The grey troll tightened his jaw, feeling his defiance starting to waver. It was true, in the last party no one was eaten, even during the chaos when the Troll Tree caught fire. Was she actually going to get what she wanted this time? There was no where for him to run. "Well… even if I did go, I don't have this 'plus one' that I'm supposed to bring," he said nonchalantly.
Poppy clapped her hands together loudly, making Branch start. "Oh! That's so easy," she said happily, aware that the conversation was tilting in her favor. "I can think of SO many trolls that would love to spend the holiday with you. But, I'm leaving it up to your choice. Just think on it, okay? You'll find them. They're right under your nose. Oh, and uh, it's not me. I'm not going with you, I'm paired with someone already." She giggled and bit her lip. Poppy tried to squeeze in a subtle hint for him, reaching forward and tapping Branch on the tip of his nose. "Boop!"
Branch recoiled from the touch then rubbed his fingers into his tired eyes, sighing heavily for the umpteenth time. "Alright, whatever. I'll think about it, but only if you leave. I have a lot of work I have to do."
"You're always working, Branch," Poppy said, rejected. "but I'll leave. Take a break sometime, the rest'll be good for you." She stepped back and paused before leaving him to his thoughts. "The carnival won't be for a week, so you have some time. Don't feel rushed or anything, and please actually think about it Branch. Don't ignore it or run away like you did last time!"
Branch rolled his eyes when she stalked out of the room. He got up quickly and snapped the door shut behind her, swallowing slightly when he heard Poppy make a frustrated noise on the other side. He held the door knob tightly, leaning his forehead against the grain. He could hear the pink troll muttering to herself outside as she walked away, 'Bergens, Bergens, when will he – stupid Branch – just trying to be nice –'.
Guilt struck again, straight in the stomach. Poppy's persistent antics were really irritating sometimes. She wouldn't understand that it wasn't just the Bergens that he was afraid of. He didn't like going to parties because he couldn't stand the judgmental trolls that occupied them. They were going to stare at him and his colorless form. They were going to whisper things about him behind his back, just loud enough so that he could catch it. There wasn't any escape from the torment that came with being an outcast. Someone who was loved and adored by all, like Poppy, could never understand his reasoning.
- - - - -
Eyes searching, Creek hummed softly into the breeze as he waited for the small, nocturnal creatures to make their appearance. The tall surrounding grasses shifted, adding rustle to the symphony of the forest. Soft thunder cracks rumbled among the clouds in the distant sky. He hummed a little louder, watching the rippling waves of the dark river. The moonlit waterfall sparkled like diamonds, creating ambiance that only existed here in the den of tranquility.
It was evening, the sun had set beneath the horizon, and Creek was disappointed. He'd underestimated the lengthy travel and wasn't going to make it back in time like he wanted. Making it this far, he forbid himself from going back without a critter. The wild fireflies were attracted to Branch's angelic singing voice, but he hoped that his own singing would be enough to at least grab their attention so he could reason with one to go home with him. It was a shot in the dark, hoping that an unbound, critter of freedom would submit to being domesticated.
Taking a soft breath, Creek tilted his head up and reflected on what his heart was feeling. A good song to sing to attract the flies… a good, loving song that they would enjoy, but he felt… empty.
In the midst of nature, guided by his Mother of Destiny, full of goals, hopes and dreams, Creek was still empty inside.
Creek smirked through a pained expression, clasping his hands together tightly, fingers laced. He knew what these negative emotions were and he spent every day of his life trying to subdue the evil wave that threatened to change his aura. The empty, lonely feeling that plagued his energy was strong and relentless. Even so, he had to fight on.
"I sold my soul to the Devil, he said 'You don't need your heart', in this world full of trouble where the madness won't stop." His voice was strong, the pure notes falling to the wind of the coming storm. "And they take advantage, and they run for the hills... 'Cause a life is harder when they swallow the pills of being lonely."
Stinging pressure formed behind his eyes as he looked forward, vision falling out of focus. The dark trees and foliage swayed slowly, their shadows dancing around him. "Is life worth living when you need to get by? I'm still lonely.
"I was the king but not the king of anything.
Call me Mr. Righteous even if I always sin."
Creek's eyes closed then, arms hugging around his middle in a desperate attempt to hold himself together. His heart was a wretched thing, shattering at the mere prospect of believing that his life could be nothing more than an annoying flicker among many. Everyone had problems, that wasn't uncommon. As time went on, he found it more and more difficult to sing and dance away his troubles with the rest of the trolls. Instead, he chose to meditate and pull the positive energy from nature and other life forms around him. He worried heavily that, eventually, it wouldn't be enough.
He knew the dark truth no matter what he did to snuff it out. He shared fake smiles and felt fake happiness. In the midst of other trolls, he locked away his heart and pretended, no matter what it did to his inner being. He didn't have a single troll in his life that actually knew the real him. His entire personality felt warped around the constant need to please, and yet, there was no fruit bearing from his efforts. What was the point in being nice to one another in such a way if it was so painful under the surface?
"I am such a pitiful individual," Creek joked to himself. "It might be easier to just let the darkness take me. At least when you're grey, you don't feel the need to pretend."
A soft buzzing drifted over his rounded ear, tickling it. Creek turned his face slightly and looked over to see the shining blue firefly floating just inches away. Its large, round eyes blinked, then it peered down at the wetness of Creek's cheeks. He'd been crying and he hadn't even noticed. The firefly reached out with one of its segmented legs and gently swiped a tear away from Creek's eye, tilting its head with a low sounding chirp. The purple troll gave a look of surprise, smiling at the gesture.
"What a daring creature you are," he said quietly.
The bug fluffed itself and flew in a haphazard circle around him, streaming bright blue afterglow. Reaching into his pocket slowly, Creek revealed a few berries that he'd collected on the way here. He held them out, flat on his palm as an offering. The fly noticed the berries and immediately came straight back, landing on his forearm and nibbling the fruit with delicate incisors. There were other fireflies fluttering in the area, but none were taking interest in Creek like this one was.
Creek inspected the bug, judging its size and color. It was smaller than the rest of its pack, body about the size of his outstretched hand. He noticed that it was a girl, its shorter antennae curled inward at the ends. The fly stretched out it's back legs and groomed her wings under the hard black shell covers, totally at peace on Creek's arm. He had to admit, the bug was adorable. He'd never been one to take to critters but this one was incredibly charming.
"Have you met Branch?" Creek asked the bug, touching its foreleg to get her attention. The firefly cocked its head, blinking its large eyelashes. "The colorless troll. Black hair, about my height?" he tried.
Suddenly the firefly jumped from his arm and she spun around in a circle in the air, chirping enthusiastically. Creek smiled again and climbed to his feet quickly, "Great! You like him right? You can be with him if you come with me. Come with me and be his companion. I swear you won't regret it." The firefly buzzed excitedly in the air, zooming forward and latching on to Creek's shoulder. He laughed and stroked the bug under her chin. "Wonderful," he crooned to it. "You are just wonderful. Perhaps we may even get to hear him sing again with your help, little one."
A fresh gust of wind billowed through the enclosure and Creek placed his hand on firefly's shell protectively. He looked past the trees at the darkened clouds in the distance, fallen leaves whipping through the air and swirling in the grass. The other wild fireflies had retreated back into the forest, taking cover from the winds.
"Time for us to leave," Creek said, glancing at the bug. She flickered her blue bulb in response and dug her feet into his shirt, clinging securely. Creek nodded and moved quickly to the edge of the forest clearing, spotting some rhubarb bushes. He inspected a few leaves then plucked a rather large one that was almost bigger than his entire body. Sprinklings of rain began to fall around him, and Creek grimaced, smoothing down his long hair and covering his head with the leaf like an umbrella. It was sturdy enough and he hoped it would last.
The trip back to Troll Village was nasty one, considering he sprinted the entire way to try and beat the rain. Luckily, he was relatively unscathed and dry because of the leaf. Creek rushed through the hatch of the survival bunker, securing it quickly before an onslaught of water poured into the upper room. Panting heavily from exertion, he tossed his soaked foliage to the ground and then pulled open the collar of his shirt, looking down at the abnormal lump that was his chest.
"Sorry love, you can come out now," he said.
Big, cute eyes poked up from inside his shirt and peeked around at the room. The blue firefly crawled out onto his shoulder and ruffled its wings. Creek rubbed the underside of its head in affection, then pulled the lever of the elevator to go down into the main room. It was just past midnight. He definitely regretted asking Branch to free up his evening for him. Hopefully the troll didn't wait up for him this late into the night.
The azure glow of the firefly illuminated the passageway as they reached the lower level. Creek wiped his grimy feet then tiptoed to his room, opening the door quietly and ushering the chirping bug inside. It buzzed around the room in curiosity, checking out the furniture and sniffing items. It settled down on one of Creek's pillows and looked back at him, blinking.
"That's a good critter," Creek said fondly. "I will bring you a treat if you wait patiently and don't make a pigsty of my bedroom. You'll meet Branch again soon enough." The fly tilted its head in a questioning manner before skittering around in a circle and snuggling up into the pillow.
Creek closed the door then made his way through the halls, looking around for the grey troll. Thunder clapped loudly through the bunker, the echo startling him enough to grab his chest. Being underground already unnerved him, but the creepy sounds that filtered in from above were almost too much. He looked in the kitchen and the small library but couldn't find Branch. He stepped cautiously around the bend and came to Branch's room, noticing that the door was cracked open. He debated pushing it open, just to see if he was sleeping or if he was awake.
Creek's ears picked up a soft whimper coming from within. Steeling his decision, he swallowed his nerves and stepped inside the drafty hollow, eyes adjusting to the darkness. The only light seeped from the main hall, casting a dim beam towards the bed. Branch was there, bundled up in the center of his bed like a cocoon. He was making soft, distressed noises and shifted under the covers.
"Branch?"
Another crushing rumble of thunder echoed through the drafty halls, causing Creek to snap the door shut behind him quickly. Branch's cowering form was shadowy, but he could still make out the shivering under the sheets. Swallowing thickly, the purple troll gingerly stepped towards the bed from across the room, his palms sweating through his fists. To be completely honest, his was on edge because any other day, Branch would skin him alive for being inside his bedroom like this.
His friend was in pain… He couldn't just abandon Branch to fend for himself like this. He felt protective and needy. His inner being was itching to help any way he could, even if Branch hated him in the morning. Trying to ignore the incredible gnawing inside his stomach, Creek focused in on the scared troll. He reached the side of the mattress and held his hand out to the trembling shoulder, pausing in hesitation.
"Branch," he called out quietly. "I'm here."
The bundle of sheets stiffened suddenly, trembles coming to a halt. Branch's ears flicked back in alert, then he eased slightly into the plush covers when he realized who it was. The second of relief passed as quickly as it came and he grit his teeth together when another shiver coursed along his skin.
Creek was in his room? It was so late at night already, he'd assumed that the troll wasn't going to come back tonight. He had waited for awhile, sipping coffee in his library and feeling anxious about what gift he was going to receive. As the night dragged he laughed at himself for waiting, ending up in his room wracked with fear. His thoughts were a blur, thinking of nothing but Bergens and how the entire village was going to be eaten alive.
Boom.
Another crack from the storming shuddered above the trolls. Branch sat up quickly and grabbed the purple troll, hurling him into the bed and throwing the sheet over their heads like a protective dome.
Creek squeaked in surprise, trying to sit up from his awkwardly tossed position. "What in the blazes – ?!"
"Shh!" Branch put his hand over Creek's mouth, eyes wide in horror. "Don't alert them!" he whispered frantically.
Shoving his hand away, Creek looked at him credulously through the darkness, "Alert who?!"
"SHH! Shut up! Stop talking!" Branch squinted his eyes closed and whimpered, grabbing his pointed ears and tugging on them in distress.
"Branch, what's going on?"
Boom.
The dark troll flinched bodily and went back into his fetal position, face down into his pillow. "Please… please," he whispered. "The Bergens will find us. They're coming."
Creek flung the sheet off his head in frustration and Branch gasped when he was dragged bodily against the other troll's chest, the two of them face to face on laying on their sides. Branch struggled together momentarily, but the next oncoming thunder forced Branch's hands to come up and cling to the purple troll. They clawed into Creek's shirt tightly and he curled inward towards warmth of the other. His breath was short and ragged, heart pounding with dread.
"Please," he panted. Branch didn't know what he was begging for now.
This was something Creek wasn't prepared for. The guy was obviously going through an episode, triggered by noise that resembled Bergen footsteps he guessed. He'd never imagined that Branch was conflicted in such a way. How many times in his life did he lock himself in his bunker and go through this alone? "It's a thunder storm," Creek said slowly, his grip around the frightened troll tight and unyielding. "There are no Bergens. Do you hear me? It's thunder, not Bergens."
Branch's face pressed silently forward, his legs bending upwards in an effort to curl into himself again. Creek grunted and pried his leg between Branch's knees, their lower limbs tangling until both bodies were flush. Chest to chest, hips together, ankles entwined. He crushed his arms around his body until there was no possible space left between them. He could feel the fearful energies plaguing his aura and he tried to absorb what he could. He hoped that his warmth would fight back the chills and bring at least a little comfort.
The next sound of thunder was softer this time but still, the bunker rattled. Branch flinched again, but said nothing and remained in his frozen position inside Creek's arms. He was scared enough not to feel awkward or angry about being hugged like this. Creek's hugs… were so strong. They were solid and tight, and heat emanated from the purple troll.
They lay quietly together on the bed, listening to the tempest carry on its way over the forest. Creek lost track of time and he found himself wondering how many minutes had passed. He thought about how familiar this scene was, wandering down the broken path of their past. There was a time when they were younger, Branch was scared of a storm just like this. He didn't understand what thunder was at the time. Creek had been there in his bed, just like this, and they were hugging one another in mutual comfort. There were many times that the two trollings would spend the night in each other's pods, having sleepovers and playing games. Whenever the rains would come, young Creek would always plan to be there so that his friend would never feel alone and overwhelmed. The song they sang together in bed was a soft spoken lullaby, always bringing a gentle smile to the small, cerulean troll.
Branch made a small sound, shrinking away from another roar from the storm.
"I can feel your heart beat..." Creek sang softly, trying to pull in Branch's attention "Fear is growing in your eyes."
The grey troll responded immediately, shifting slightly. He took in a sharp breath, body tight with apprehension. Creek quietly thanked that he didn't pull away. He wondered if Branch remembered the song, and wondered if it would soothe him like it did in the past. "But you are never alone, and soon there will be clear blue skies."
Branch's chest thrummed, the sweet melody penetrating to his core. He did remember it. His senses were being bombarded with a mixture of anxiety and bittersweet memories. The perfume of mint and herbs was making its way between them. Branch breathed the aroma deeply, eyelids fluttering to the wave of peace that washed over him. He'd never understand why Creek's scent had this power over him, but he didn't hate it and didn't want it to ever leave.
Creek felt his friend's body relax into him and he smiled, continuing their lullaby.
"With the night, comes the ghost. When the lights disappear, know that I won't let go,
and if dreams become real? You should know... there's no retreat and no surrender,
and you should know... not here, not now, not ever.
"When you're cold, when you're lost, and you fall from the light,
I will stay by your side with the song for the night...
"Tonight we'll find some peace of mind knowing you'll be safe asleep tonight with the song... for the night."
Branch lifted from Creek's chest to finally look up at him, their eyes locking together. Through the dim lighting he could see the soft features of his face and the upturned corner of his mouth. The lavender hued troll was so attractive and his heart twisted. He couldn't believe that they were like this right now. So many times already Creek has embraced him, keeping him grounded when he needed it most. Every passing moment with him became something more… something he felt like he wanted. He liked the warmth between them. He liked Creek's hands gripping his back. He liked the way he smelled.
"Did you like the song?" Creek whispered to him.
Branch blinked through the fog of his admiration and swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from Creek's gaze. "Yeah," he said.
"Do you feel better?" the troll asked him, his voice traced with concern.
Branch nodded slowly, taking another deep breath of the strong, minty essence.
Creek moved a hand up and brushed his thumb over Branch's blushing cheek. "I was worried about you."
Shivering from the touch, the dark troll reached and took Creek's wrist, staring into the light colored eyes that were bearing straight through his walls. Their faces were closer now, soft puffs of breath mingling together. His irises were lilac, beautiful, just like his skin. Gorgeous, like his hair. He could lose himself in that deep expanse that was more dazzling than a meadow of wild flowers.
"Creek..." he whispered his name in yearning. Branch closed the distance between them and kissed his lips. It lasted only a second and the purple troll became wide-eyed. Branch let out a shaky whine, desire coiling tight in his body. His heart hammered up into his throat, wanting to do it again.
Granting the silent wish, Creek took his chin, tilting his face back up to kiss again. It was bolder, stronger, and their rationality was fleeting. Through a sudden kindle of fire, the second kiss became hungry. Their lips crushed together in a hot frenzy, enticing a low keen from the back of Creek's throat. Branch's hands flew up and thrust through the thick teal locks of Creek's hair, then he angled his lips to dive deep into the purple troll's opened mouth. He tasted like the minty sweetness he smelled, the lithe, spiced tongue driving him dizzy with need.
It was overwhelming for Creek, and he couldn't do anything but grip Branch's shoulders for support while his mouth fought in a losing battle for dominance. The grey troll was devouring him like a starving beast and he leaned backwards under the pressure. Following the movement, Branch pushed the troll to his back and climbed over the top of him to attack his lips with new demands. Creek matched every rough lick and tormenting suck he could muster. He moved his hand to Branch's chest and caressed up from the center, fingers splaying around his throat until he grabbed the back of his neck tightly. Another thrill of excitement charged through their kiss, stealing the rest of Branch's breath and forcing him to pull away with a heavy gasp for air.
Panting hard, Creek tried to flex his hips under the grey troll, his entire body lit with heat. Branch stared down at him, flickering over his wet, abused lips and darkened eyes with pupils blown into something carnal and unfamiliar.
Creek rose up to take another kiss, but Branch retreated quickly and jumped out of his bed, leaving the troll in the cold. He trembled on his feet, standing at the edge.
Creek bolted forward, sitting up in the bed. "B-Branch?" Creek said nervously, the words almost choking him while he yanked himself out of his lusty haze.
"Get out."
"What?"
Branch turned on his heel and glared daggers into the guru, his eyes shining with oncoming tears. "I said, GET OUT!" he yelled at him. "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"
Creek scrambled out of the bed and stepped a few good feet away from the grey troll, pulling on his tousled shirt with his hand. "Please, wait just a second," he tried to reason. "Let's just talk about this."
Branch's hands became fists, shoulders tightening. He turned and stalked over to Creek, grabbing the troll and steering him towards the bedroom door roughly.
"Wait! Branch, don't do this – !"
Branch ignored his protests and yanked open the door, shoving Creek into the hallway unceremoniously then slamming it violently in his wake. He turned the steel lock just in time, the door handle rattling as Creek tried to open it again with a growl.
"Don't run from me, you coward!" Creek yelled back.
Branch bit his lip and sank to the floor, dropping his flushed face into his hands.
Minutes ticked by. He couldn't have gone away yet. He was still there, waiting. Heavy rain was the only thing either of them could hear. Then, there was a small shuffle, Creek lifting himself off the oak wood and straightening himself. "Just to be clear," he said, his voice deep and coarse, "you kissed me first." He was angry, Branch could hear it. He listened to the footsteps stomp down the hall, frustrating tears spilling over his cheeks, then he glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was two in the morning and he'd never felt so awful since losing his grandmother Rosie.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Lawlly
Lawlly Creek's 1st song - Lonely by Yoe Mase
https://youtu.be/S9eJgMOf4m0
Creek's 2nd song - Song For the Night by Stanfour
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eojrcq6AFwY
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone