The Arrangement

〄2.Kapitel två〄

     It was nighttime and we were outside the castle. The stars above glittered in the sky, in an almost fantastical way. The full moon overhead was our only real source of light. We were standing a few feet apart in the well-manicured garden, the air saturated with many floral scents. I had come out here first to get away, but he had followed.

     His dark eyebrows were heavily furrowed as his stare penetrated me. Dusky rose lips mashed together in a firm line. He looked so pissed off that if you were to open the dictionary and go to the word irate, he's exactly what you would see next to it.

     That soul-piercing glare of his stabbed me. My breath was trapped in my throat. I was growing dizzy due to the tense atmosphere making it feel impossible to breathe in enough oxygen. 

     The way the moonlight casted down shadows across half of his face makes him look like a villain; as if half of his face was just a gaping black hole. Chills ran across my arms and up my back, causing me to shudder.

     "Why do you think I even want you," He spit out, causing me to slightly jump at the noise. His head shook back and forth before he continued, "Hell, I didn't even choose you. You would not have even made it on my list of options."

     Pain shot through me. It radiated throughout my entire body. Hell, I'd even say it put a stranglehold on my soul as well. Unconsciously my arms came up to wrap around myself, craving some form of comfort against his hard words. 

     It's not like it's not something that I didn't already know, but it doesn't stop it from hurting still. Which confused me greatly. Nothing I could have thought of made what I was feeling make sense to me. I hugged myself tighter, mustering up the courage to speak.

     "I never once said you did," My voice came out weak, nearly a silent mumble lost on the slight breeze. 

     As I broke eye contact and glanced down to the gravel beneath our feet, he let out a cruel chuckle. The hurt I felt made it hard to keep looking him in the face. His infamous black boots yet again were the only thing my eyes really focused on as I continued to stare down. It took a lot inside of me to keep holding the emotions back. One thing I've definitely learned while being here was that the moment that he sensed weakness, he'd strike.

     "I'm just barely tolerating your presence," he hissed. His voice grew louder as he carried on, "Solely because I literally have to in order to not be bitched at all the time by my oh-so-loving parents."

     By now I had gotten so used to him looking down on me-- metaphorically and literally-- that now whenever it happens, I don't even think twice about it. Which is sad. He and I should be equals. Something began to burn in the back of my throat. Things needed to change. I couldn't live like this anymore.

     Deciding that I have grown tired of constantly being under his scrutinizing gaze and arrogant attitude, I squared my shoulders to face him head-on. I did my best to look as annoyed and intimidating. But as someone of my height compared to his own, it probably looked a bit pathetic. I was sick and tired of his nonstop belittling though.

     "Oh," he darkly chuckled again. His dark eyes raked over me, taking in my stance and face, "Could the last time that you have tried this possibly already escape your measly little brain? Do you really want a second round of it?"

     His grey eyes appear to be black due to the shadowing of his face against the moon as he sizes me up yet again. That malicious smirk that I've grown used to seeing on his face when we're alone only continued to grow as I stood there. I kept up my persistence in silently challenging him. By now, my poker face almost never slipped, and my chin was almost always raised just enough to show him-- and anyone else- that I am indeed not inferior to him. At least all the etiquette and manner classes that I've been forced to attend have taught me something useful.