RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 85: LAZ -

As Conner’s body landed on the floor and blood flowed, Laz withheld a smile.

It wouldn’t be ideal to smile at the scene of the crime.

But he liked it, he liked it so much he wished he was the one who had pushed the fucker from the top.

He meant, he’d been okay with Conner dying slowly, but this worked just as well.

The audacity of him to actually touch his girl!

The good part? The fucker was probably dead as the sirens blared in the distance.

The bad part? His woman was traumatized, and they had to watch the scene of the crime unfold.

Laz quickly scooped her up in his arms as she screamed so hard his eardrums throbbed. The entire dorm was in chaos with girls screaming, amplifying the noise.

She was panicking, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Laz needed to find her a brown paper bag.

He placed her gently into the car seat. She was heaving now, her face red, her eyes bloodshot, and streaks of tears marking her cheeks.

"Fuck," he muttered, frantically searching for his emergency kit.

The one time he actually needed it, and he couldn’t find the damn thing.

Her breaths were becoming more ragged, her chest tightening as she began to turn blue. She was going to pass out.

He cupped her face with both hands, his voice firm yet soothing. "I know this sounds stupid, but use me as a brown paper bag."

"W-what?!" she stammered, her eyes wide with panic.

"I know it sounds dumb, but trust me, okay? You’re going to pass out otherwise. Like CPR, just trust me," he urged, his voice desperate.

Tears streamed down her face as she gave a weak nod.

Laz leaned in and breathed deeply into her mouth. She took his breath in, then gave it back.

They continued, him giving her space to breathe on her own for a moment before repeating the process.

Her lips trembled against his as she inhaled his air and exhaled it back. Slowly, her breathing steadied.

Her trembling subsided, but tears still fell. She clung to him, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly as though he were her lifeline.

"You can have my air," he whispered, his voice soft and steady. "As much as you want."

"Even my breath is yours."

Her whole body shivered as she pressed closer to him. "Does this even work?" She mumbled into his shirt, inhaling his scent.

"Nope, but at least your calm now." He lifted her chin using his wipes to clean the blood off her.

"You’ve got wipes?" She questioned with an arched brow.

He withheld a smirk, cleaning every drop of blood before tossing in a clear bag "For emergencies."

She fumbled in her bag and pulled out a crumpled red note. Her hands trembled as she handed it to him.

"You’re next," Laz read aloud, his jaw tightening.

She began to sob, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. "Why are they doing this to me?"

"The birds weren’t enough? The photos weren’t enough? And now this!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Laz, I’m so scared I can barely breathe."

Her chest heaved again, and Laz instinctively pulled her close. "I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you as long as I’m here. You can use me as your breather, okay? I don’t mind. We’ll get the paper bags later."

She stared at him, her teary eyes searching his face. "You’re so kind to me... but I’m having a hard time believing you, Laz."

The joy in his chest drained at her words. Her expression pierced him, a mix of pain and mistrust.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she whispered. "You make me ache for you, and I’m so scared because I’ve never felt this way in my life. It really is hell ’cause you’re the only one who makes me feel this way!"

She screamed, hitting his chest with weak, harmless blows. "People are dying around me, my friends are getting hurt, and I can’t even trust my own mind anymore!"

Laz remained silent, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she broke down in his embrace.

"You smiled, Laz," she sobbed, her voice laced with horror. "When his body hit the ground... I saw you smile!"

He froze, knowing he’d fucked up.

"You’re keeping secrets from me," she cried. "I know there’s something you’re not telling me about the red notes. I have blank spaces in my memory, sometimes I feel like I’m not even myself anymore. It’s driving me crazy!"

"I’ve been patient," she continued, her voice cracking. "I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me. To tell me the truth. But you won’t, will you?"

He looked at her with a mix of pain and resolve, gently wiping her tears away. He shook his head.

"Nothing? Aren’t you going to at least yell back at me?" she demanded.

Still, he said nothing.

"You make me feel insane, Laz," she whispered, her voice breaking. "And I’m not sure I can keep being friends with you."

Panic surged through him, and he caught her wrist as she tried to leave. "Frida, please. You’re better off not knowing the truth... not yet."

Her eyes searched his, desperate and afraid. "I feel like I’m going crazy, Laz. I think there’s something wrong with me. Sometimes I think I’m a different person."

His gaze softened, and he cupped her face. "I don’t care if you’re a different person."

"What?" she whispered, taken aback.

"I don’t care if you’re a different person," he repeated, his voice unwavering. "Everyone changes at some point in their lives. But no matter what, you’re still you. The same heart, the same soul, the same body. And I choose you."

Tears streamed down her face as he held her close, his words sinking deep into her heart. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

She rested her forehead against his, her voice trembling. "Not yet..."

He nodded, his voice soft. "I know. I’ll wait."

Her tears fell silently as she stared at him.

"Even in another life, with a different face or name, I’d still choose you," he said softly. "I’d always choose you."

She leaned into his embrace, her body trembling.

"You don’t have to say it yet," he whispered, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Her heart was full, and it was beating for him and was she really scared of the dying people or the fact that she was falling for him, slowly and badly and she was imagining being his every other thing was fading away.

All her doubts, all her fears, he made her want to love him, can the same man who shattered you?...put you back together?

She wanted to believe what she felt for him was physical attraction, she wanted to believe it was lust. That’s what had kept her sane for this long.

She hesitated, then pulled back slightly. "If I... if I gave you my body, would that be enough to make you move on?"

Laz nearly laughed, though his heart ached. "You think this is about sex? Frida, you bruise me."

He tilted her chin so she could look into his eyes.

"I don’t want your body. I need your love."

Her breath hitched, but before she could respond, she slipped out of his arms and walked out of the car.

She was a coward.

"Frida," he called after her, trailing behind her.

She was afraid of his love.

She hugged herself, her emotions in turmoil.

"Frida!"

She had to get away from him.

Before he could reach her, an officer stepped in front of her.

"You were present at the scene of the crime, Miss Frida?" the detective asked.

She rubbed her palms over her face, her voice strained. "Yeah, I was."

The detective’s gaze shifted to Laz. "And you?"

"Her’s with no label," Laz said, intertwining his fingers with hers and the officer arched a brow.

Her protests died on her lips.

"Sure," Laz said firmly. "We’ll come to the station."