Diamonds In The Sky [ON HOLD - Editing In Process]

Diamonds In The Sky - Lovers Can Die (Chapter 47)

Lovers can die.

Claude's P.O.V.

I didn't even know what to do or to say. The moment Viola had revealed that she had been keeping something from my family - I just...I couldn't. I understood why she had kept it a secret, but I didn't - well, couldn't - understand why she didn't tell me, before all this. My mind couldn't process that after all we've shared, that she couldn't have told me. Did she not trust me? I hated it. I hated the entire situation.

I sat in some dusty chair somewhere in the house I'd dreaded after Maxwell had been murdered. The ceiling held some painting made to embody the innocence of life - angels playing in a dark forest with curious looks on their faces. I remembered the artist, not his name but his face, and how he himself had told me it wasn't about the dangers in that dark forest. "The angels don't know about the bad, because to them it does not exist. Ignorance is bliss, Mr. Blackmore," is how he said it. 

I wondered if ignorance was bliss. Was it better not knowing? 

When Viola came to stay here...it sparked something in me that I hadn't seen since the death of my brother. I was alive again. I no longer hated this home because she had filled it up with new memories - memories I'd hope to cherish forever. Would that have been ruined if she revealed that there was a werewolf working with the Chamberlain Clan? Would my mindset be so drastically changed that none of it would have ever happened?

I hoped that it wouldn't have changed anything, that deep inside I wouldn't feel betrayed or angry. But here I was, sulking in the shadows. 

I wanted nothing more than to hold her in my arms and tell her that it was okay, that I understood. But, I couldn't bring myself to do that. I was torn. And I didn't know it then, but it would come to be one of the things I would regret most: doubting her, hell, doubting myself. 

I stood up and dust particles swarmed in the air, illuminated by the light creeping in through the cracks of the closed door. I paced in the dark, around the blanketed pieces of furniture and various items. I scoffed to myself, "Why do we even need any of this?"

I sat back down again and rubbed my temples with a frustrated breath. Did it even matter? Was I overreacting? 

The image of Viola's crestfallen face flooded my mind. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I remembered her volunteering to be bait. My rushed hand ran through my hair as I took a deep breath trying to take it in. Before I knew it, I was standing, clutching the chair I was sitting in a second ago, and then throwing it against the wall. My breath was heavy and I didn't stop myself as I broke more furniture out of frustration. She had given herself up. She had calmly explained to me why she was doing it, but it still made me mad - because I felt like she was giving up on us. It didn't make any sense to me, why I was feeling like this, like a truck had run me over twenty times. I was hurt. And I hadn't been hurt for seven years.

 I could imagine my older brother laughing at the state I was in: torn over some girl. I sat on the floor next to some pieces of that chair and a soft chuckle escaped me as I whispered, "I guess we don't need that after all."

Viola wasn't just some girl though, I thought to myself, she was my soul mate. And I think that's what Maxwell would have found hilarious. His little brother had found true love in a werewolf who's eyes held the ocean in them. I was drowning, and I loved it. I loved her. Hell, I still do.

Part of me accepted it; that she had kept something from me, but she had to make a call and she did was she thought was best because the eyes of the world were on her. This was bigger than me and her, and I was proud of her for making such a difficult decision. This was her battle, something she felt she had to fight alone, but I wanted her to understand that I was right here next to her no matter what. I didn't want her to be bait for this war, I wanted to find some other way so something couldn't go wrong and - I didn't even want to think about it. I was hurt and being selfish and I didn't care because I couldn't live without her now. I didn't want to live without her soft skin and her gentle laugh - or even that loud one when she couldn't help herself.