Poppies

we'll never make it

West's grip on my hand was firm enough to break my fall with a sharp tug.

"What the hell?" I cried, studying the gobsmacked expression gracing West's features. Pulling myself upright, hand still in West's, I followed his gaze to the gaping blackness where the bookcase had stood moments ago. Gently pushing me aside, he took a tentative step across the threshold.

At once, a series of lights flipped on inside as if by magic. I jumped a little with surprise, my hand shooting up to clutch at his arm, a whirlwind of wonder and trepidation rapidly rising in my chest.

The staircase that had now emerged plunged deeper into the earth with each glass step. West and I exchanged an anxious look. "This is some next level shit," I finally said, shaking my head with disbelief. "A fucking secret door? Explain yourself, West."