When Amberle Onyx Fell puts her life in danger at the most critical time during the destruction of The Other Side, she jeopardises not only her own future but also that of her frenemy, Lorenzo St. John.
The world they used to know is no longer the s...
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~ MORTUI VIVOS DOCENT ~
AMBERLE'S POV
It had been just over a week in the neverending world of 1994.
Not much had happened since that first full day. It was surprising how slow time truly felt when there was nothing to do.
Enzo had returned alone to the hospital for the blood, instructing me to stay at the Boarding House where it was safer. On this, I didn't argue, the thought of going back to that place filling me with dread. Having the cold storage in the basement filled with blood bags meant fewer comments from Enzo about me being a source of food and less temptation for him to sink his fangs into my throat any time I pissed him off.
And therefore, no further blood drinking.
We bickered every day over the smallest of things, like an old married couple - except, there was nothing but platonic chemistry between us. No more synchronised instrument playing, no more handwritten notes. In fact, there had been zero questionably romantic moments between us at all.
It was like Enzo was trying his hardest to prove whatever had happened that night was all in my head. As if he regretted tip-toeing the line between friendship and flirtation.
He tended to keep to himself and practice playing his guitar, while I sat in the Salvatore library researching in the hopes of finding a way for us to escape. During the week I'd visited Bonnie's Grams' house to grab the Bennett Grimoire, praying there would be some clues inside to explain where we were or how to get out. I mean, there was a high chance she'd been the one to send us here; there had to be something.
So far, however... nada.
Enzo and I would only converse during meal times or when absolutely necessary. In fact, sometimes I forgot I wasn't the only person in this world. Every now and then I'd consider asking if I had upset him again but would bite my tongue every time, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of knowing he was making me feel so crappy.
I wasn't sure if it was the fact our chances of getting out of here were growing slimmer by the day, or if I was generally just a super annoying person to be around. Considering how easy it was to get under his skin, I assumed the latter.
Thankfully, I hadn't experienced any more of those weird nightmares, although there were occasional moments when I'd hear those spine-tingling whispers again, usually when it was quiet or my mind would wander.
There had been no strange instances of flickering lights or moving shadows since that night. The fact I barely left the Boarding House unless I had to was probably something to do with that, although I did question whether the whole ordeal had just been a delayed trauma response.
