the beautiful grave (book II)

live fast, die never

frost

As he watched the love of his life run away, Frost had never felt so ashamed. He couldn't bother asking why, he just knew he did. It didn't stop him from comforting a hysterical Marisol, but it took his mind off her for a bit.

     Lily just packed her bags and left. It was that simple for her. So simple that it tore him apart inside, and he was the only one witnessing it.

     Frost decided he didn't like the sight of her back. He didn't like the way her feet had galloped rather frantically, as if she couldn't wait to get out of this place. He also decided he didn't enjoy this new persona she'd taken on. The one that believed she and him weren't supposed to be together.

     Well, she could be happy with her choice... Now it was time he made his.

     Quickly, before people started gathering in the halls and snooping in, he picked up a dead weight Marisol and took her back to her room.

     Once in, he wasn't sure if he was relieved they were alone or not. He and Marisol could be a bad combination. It had been Lily and Violet's job to stop them from tearing each other's throats out.

     But Violet wasn't around, and Lily was gone. It would be just them for a while, he realized.

     Dextrously, just so he wouldn't hurt her, he lay her on her mattress and fluffed up her pillows before her head hit. Coiling her fingers around the strands of velvet cushion, he perceived a stifled sniff. Her eyes were too glassy, he couldn't make out any emotions at all. She was nothing but a blank page.

     He didn't know how to be around her. Whenever they were alone, it was during different situations, and neither took pleasure in it.

     He knew he probably couldn't deal with another heavy theory on his mind, but – there had to be a reason why Marisol was so distraught. Yes, Lily had disappeared without so much as a proper goodbye, but that couldn't be all it. There was more.

     What if Marisol...?

     No! No way. She'd never shown interest in that kind of way before, not once. Excluding the day when he first exposed himself to Lily, till then she didn't much care for their brief romance.

     Then again, she wasn't exactly his number one fan. It was 'disgusting' how he treated women, she said.

     By women, he assumed she meant her. And he knew it to be true. He handled her like she was a creature and not human at all, the species he swore to protect. He smacked her and choked her and never thought the worst of it.

     But, did anyone else?

     All of a sudden hating how he was getting to himself, he turned to leave.

     "Don't go, Frost. Please."

     Seeing her, she'd lifted her head up from the ocean of pillows and was staring at him so intently he thought she was wishing his head would implode. It definitely seemed that way.

     In no way caring what she'd asked of him, she massaged her covers down, scooted over a bit and provided him free space.

     He dived himself into her eyes, unwilling to believe it. He had to know for certain if she could comprehend the state of affairs.

     "Please stay. Lie with me." Her voice cracked and he could tell she was getting teary again with seeing him consider. "I won't annoy you."

     Don't make promises you can't keep, he felt like saying, but he didn't, out of respect.