i suppose that makes us soulmates { scarred I - I

C E R E S

I wake up with a mouth full of nails. Scratchy as I swallow them, clattering around in my gut as the haze of morning finally fades. The sun has yet to crest the horizon, bathing this morning in a heavy crimson fog. Much as I'd rather pull the covers over my head and fall back asleep, I have a promise to keep. There's only one person I'd actually care if I disappointed. Much to my dismay, he's a stupid fucking cowboy in a stupid fucking hat.

Trust me, if I could go back and choose my best friend? I would. But now I'm stuck with the guy.

Dio stopped locking the doors after I kept picking them, but still, I jump from the second-story window just to feel my ankles burn. The threat of bending without breaking, tendons stretched too thin but not brave enough to snap. It's a fine line I walk, one I know won't always work out for me. That's what makes this fun. I get to sit with the consequences as they rot.

Crispin's way too good for me. Anyone who's spent more than five minutes in our presence can see that and about half of them don't hesitate tell us as much. Like it's some new revelation and not a something we've both known since we were like eight. It's a little game of tug of war, see? How far can I make him fall before he pulls the both of us back up into the clouds. Then I burn up in the atmosphere and wash, rinse, repeat.

My palms scrape against the sharp edges of the Rosewood stables, shallow little gashes beading ruby along my wrists before I use them to stain fresh-washed jeans. "Incoming!" Unabashed, at the top of my lungs as I jump off a rickety wooden post and right into Crispin's path.

"Ceres."

I pout. "All that and I just get a Ceres?"

He doesn't answer because he knows I don't want one, forcing a pitchfork into my hands because I'm not picking one up myself.

I mimic stabbing myself in the throat with it while he picks up his own. "In my defense there was already a hole in the chain-link, I just made it bigger." Though I do feel a little bad old man Cruikshank is gonna have to chase down his goats. Again.

"You still look ugly in that hat, by the way." All bark, but less bite than I'd give anyone else. "So what's my job today, bossman? I am but a humble, law abiding citizen who just can't wait to give back to her community."

My smile has too many teeth.

C E R E S

"Don't talk to it!" My tone drops into a whine, quiet enough that only Crispin can hear. No one would believe you anyway, I once said, through heavy lashes and pouting lips. There's some secrets I force him to keep. If only they were all as lighthearted as this.

Here's hoping he still remembers what my dad's face looked like, because it's all faded for me. All I recognize of my Mom anymore is that look of molten pride in Dio's eyes whenever Crispin's over. So hopeful and bright, the kind that would burn if it were directed toward me. I know it hurt to keep their photos around after the accident and it's no skin off my back if I don't remember what amounts to little more than familiar strangers. It was more Dio's loss than mine anyway.

We were so young then.

I take pride in the fact I'm just as carefree.

"Nothing on this stupid ranch would ever be-" He holds up a set of keys and I swear I feel prideful tears well up in the corners of my eyes. I'm laughing too loud, suddenly so full of energy that I'm struggling to contain it. I press my fingers to my lips, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet a couple of times before I catch myself.

"Baby's first theft!" I have to stand on my tip-toes to pinch his cheeks, but I'd never let that stop me.

It's darling, really, that he's trying to justify this little act of rebellion to me of all people. He's got to know I'm the last person who'd care, but he's still got to say it. To soothe that fragile conscious of his. Even now I notice the guilt weighing on his shoulders, just a bit more tense than they should be.

That's why I'm here, see. I carry that for him.

I catch the keys and watch him relax into a smile. "Is it my birthday?" I'm grinning too, striding toward the estate without care or consideration. "Are you trying to woo me Mr. Wedgewood?" In spite of how happy that'd make Auntie Dio, all the time we spent pining over girls together in middle school makes it pretty obvious that's not the case.

"Or have you finally joined the dark side?" He's too slow, always too cautious. So I grab both his hands and force him to match his pace. I know I can't give him enough time to second guess our next big mistake.

It's nice he's always finding ways to remind me what it's like to be happy. "Thanks for this, big guy." I twirl behind him, pressing both my hands into his lower back and shoving him harshly toward the door, "Now c'mon. It's your heist, you gotta enter or I'll start the breaking~"