Fear

s e v e n t e e n ☾ linoleum

Margot

Lachlan slept in my bed, but it felt cold without his touch. He faced away from me the whole night, and though I have no supernatural powers or intuitions, I could see it it, feel it on him. His pain, his hurt. I wanted to run my hand along his back, relaxing the muscles because he didn't allow them to. Neither of us slept, instead thinking to ourselves. We pretended, fitfully.

And when he got up, I felt his intense stare on me. Felt a gaze so strong it was like it was trying to see right through me, but couldn't. He left my room then, soon after coming back. The shower started not long after, and I got up minutes later. I sat on the edge of my bed, stared into my dark room, thinking when the bathroom door opened. Lachlan came out wearing one of my small towels around his too large waist. His skin still dripped, and soft wet hair fell gracefully across his forehead.

"Morning,"

"Hi."

"How'd you sleep?" He had his back turned to me, and the skin on his large shoulders rippled as his deep voice rumbled. Sitting in silence still lingered on it, giving it a rough edge.

"Alright," A lie. "You?" I asked.

My eyes widened as he dropped his towel, exposing everything.

"Can't complain,"

I couldn't stop looking as he pulled on a pair of boxers, following black jeans. He was insane, and his muscles didn't stop at his back.

Minutes in silence passed. I felt like I could combust, overheated by just his presence. He had such a dangerous aura to him in this moment, and I wanted it to consume me.

He sighed and turned towards me then, looking angry, "Why are we lying to each other like this?"

"I don't know. We've been weird since last night." I answer, standing up.

"Then let's re-do. I'll start. Good morning, mate. How'd you sleep?" That rough edge never left his voice, and I felt his perpetual anger in waves. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"I didn't. Not at all."

He steps closer to me, hands clenched at his sides, "Why?"

"I said something last night, didn't I? That you didn't like. It hurt you." I tell him, my own anger rising now. He was infuriating me with all of his mind games.

"Why didn't you sleep?"

"Answer my question."

"Answer mine first." Everything about him darkened as he growled that out, and he was even closer than before.

"Because I was cold! When you don't touch me, I'm so cold! It hurts-, feels like my bones crack and heal themselves all over again, for hours!" I screamed then, tears threatening to escape my eyes. I didn't realize his arms wrapping around my body and pulling me against his, or his hands tangling in my hair, until a familiar heat filled my body. It was always one or the other; unbearable cold, or a flaming heat that I couldn't get enough of.

"If you're cold just say that." He mumbles.

I roll my eyes, thanking the heavens he couldn't see me.

Our moment was interrupted by the ring of my phone, and I hesitantly pull myself off Lachlan.

He watches me as I turn my back to him and walk the few steps to my nightstand, picking up my phone.

"Hello?"

"Margot it's your mother," That familiar voice rings through my ear, sounding hoarse.

My eyebrows scrunch and in the background I hear Lachlan throw a t-shirt on, before turning his attention on me again, no doubt listening, "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Your father-," She chokes up, and the faint sound of another woman talking in the background comes through my speaker, "Oh, the nurse is here, I should go. Come to the hospital, the same one you went to after your accident. I'll text you the room number soon." With that she hangs up, and I'm left numb.

"I'll get the car, meet me at the front." Lachlan says, his voice sounding miles away. He turns while I deftly move to my bureau to grab a change of clothes.

I look at myself in the mirror, finger brushing the knots to a slightly less disheveled but increasingly more frizzy version. I grab my purse and keys and run out of my apartment, not caring if I locked it.

When I got to the lobby, I noticed the black range rover sitting in front of the front doors immediately. It stuck out against the older Honda's and Toyota's that sat in the parking lot, and the man sitting in the drivers seat didn't help in any effort to blend in.

"Do you know where to go?" Lachlan asked as I got in, warm air hitting my flushed skin.

I nod, shutting the door, and watch his big hands change the gear to drive.

"Seatbelt."

I deftly pull the belt across my chest.

Time shifts, and I barely remember giving Lachlan the directions to the hospital or when we finally get there and he pulls into the parking lot, everything becomes blurred. I don't remember walking through the doors and to the elevator, Lachlan easily catching up. Or the elevator ride that felt like it took forever, or walking down the hall and entering the private hospital room.

My mom's wet face becomes blurred, and all I can focus on is the sight of the nurse pulling the thin bed sheet over my father's pale face. I was too late. That same nurse mumbles something about giving us privacy, and eyes up Lachlan as she leaves.

"Heart failure, they said." My mom mumbles.

She wipes her nose with a tissue she's been choking in her hand, the skin white from pressure.

"We were fine, on a walk. And he just-, collapsed." She was still in shock, I could tell. Burning holes in the form that laid on the hospital bed, as if her stare would bring him back.

She suddenly gets up, composing herself, "I'll let you say goodbye. Meet me in the lobby when you're ready."

I wasn't used to this side of her, but I wasn't about to take it for granted.

"Thank you." I mumble, watching as she leaves, seemingly not noticing Lachlan.

I sit in the chair she was just occupying, next to the bed.

All three of us sit in silence for minutes. I lift the sheet, pushing it underneath my dad's chin. I wanted to look at him one last time, ingrain every detail of his face into memory like I had done with Lachlan.

"I wanted you to meet him," I mumble,  "It's stupid, but I wanted his blessing." I say, continuing.

Soon my eyes betray me, and moisten, and I don't have the strength to wipe them or stop myself from crying. So I let the tears follow their path down my cheeks and onto my lap, "If you just could have waited a little bit longer, Daddy." I choke on a sob.

Lachlan shifts, and he pulls my hands away from each other. I was picking at the skin around my nails, making myself bleed, a habit I picked up years ago.

I shake my head, sobs escaping harder, "He wasn't supposed to leave me yet!"

Suddenly I'm pulled up from my seat, and in Lachlan's big arms. His hands hold my head against his chest, lips against the crown, and fingers running through my tangled hair.

"You couldn't have stopped this from happening, Margot." Lachlan mumbles into my ear.

I sob, my fingers pulling the material of Lachlan's shirt, "I should have been there more. I was a horrible daughter."

His fingers tighten against my scalp almost painfully, "Stop blaming yourself."

Whispering, I say, "I don't know how to."

He pulls away just enough to look me in the eyes, "Let me help you learn."

I nod, resting my head on his chest again.

"I want to leave this town. I want to go with you." I mumble.

"We will. As soon as everything is sorted with your family we will, I promise."