Wish Apon A Star

Nicole - Tired

In no time it was warm out and the snow was gone, flowers beginning to appear. Annabelle had to ditch her red coat (which she was, of course, upset about) but quickly began replacing it with red ribbons and her seemingly never-ending collection of red things. She had also already began to give us lists of things she wanted for her birthday, even though Leo's was before hers. James had promised to get her an 'I'm an Idiot' sign, because he 'thought it would be fitting'.

Everyone at the inn planned and schemed almost all the time, as they hunted for some way to get James's 'revenge'. I didn't. I knew I should have, but what I really wanted was to finally be safe and out of the way. Not in the middle of what was turning into a huge conflict. If we got involved, it meant people would get hurt. And that would be my fault.

"Nicole," Lily called from downstairs. "There's something here for you." I headed down, and she extended a tiny white slip of paper to me. My stomach clenched. Maybe it was just Clara, who wrote to me several times a week. But I wasn't anywhere near long enough to be one of her letters–she practically sent essays, and this was little more than a scrap. I took it gingerly, like it might attack.

Lily gave me a weird look, clearly confused as to why I seemed scared of a slip of paper, and I forced a tiny smile. "Thanks."

"Sure." She shrugged, and darted off to pick her next victim at cards.

I took my note to the couch and unfolded it. I'd been right. The message was clear: stay out of it. Stay out of it or he'd hurt me, Leo, anyone and everyone in here. I felt sick. I glanced around the room; everyone was oblivious. I started ripping the note into shreds, miniscule bits of paper, the words shrinking until I couldn't even make them out anymore.

"What are you doing?" Leo asked, and I jumped when I realized he was practically right in front of me. He looked at the shredded bits of paper in my hands. "What's that?"

I leaned over and dropped them in the fireplace. "Nothing."

"Right." He sat down next to me. He wanted me to tell him, but I couldn't. He would be worried, and I wasn't something he needed to be worried about. Not with everything else. I just shook my head. "Okay," he said. "You promise you'd tell me if you needed–or wanted–to?"

"I think we both know my promise means absolutely nothing."

"It does to me." He took my hands and brushed the tiny scar on my pinkie with his thumb. "I trust you."

"That's your mistake," I told him. "I've already lied to you. Why would you just keep letting me? I shouldn't have your trust."

"You do, anyway. Because, one day, it's not going to be a lie. So, I'm going to believe you everytime, because what if this time is that time? You deserve someone to believe in you. So I will."

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe. But not for this."

Yeah, right. But that was Leo–too quick to trust, always. I treated him terribly, and he still trusted me. He shouldn't have. But I knew he would, anyway. I would end up hurting him, somehow, but he would stay until I killed him.

I heard Annabelle shriek, and a moment later she and James appeared at the top of the stairs, James with a hair clip in his hands. He held it above her head easily and clung to it even as she tried to wrench it away with a spell. "Give that back," she snapped. "Right now, James."

"No, I don't think I will," he said. He held it up to the light and pretended to study it. "It looks like it could fetch a pretty nice price..."

"You wouldn't dare!"