𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭.
~
For five years, Evelyn turned up missing. Locked at the bottom of an endless void of water in a metal safe. Trapped in a coma of her own. Though she returns, nothi...
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I grab my dress from my suitcase, the plastic overwrap crinkling. I hear the door open, but I don't turn to check who it is.
I know who it is.
"Something's changed." He speaks. I can feel him staring at me, my skin feeling unrealistically warm. "And I can't figure out if it's good, or bad." I see him lean against the wall with his arms crossed through my peripheral vision.
I move things to find my shoes, cursing when I have difficulty finding them. I set my dress down and use both hands to search my suitcase.
Sigh. They must be in my bag.
I stand up, still staring at my bag as if the shoes will magically appear. Spoiler: they don't.
I yelp as something wraps around my ankle, making me trip. Right into Killian's arms. He easily catches me and I stare up at him.
I notice he has light freckles littering across his face, the color so light I wasn't able to tell he had them before. And his eyes; they're honey brown, reminding me almost of a bear. They're captivating, despite such a bland color. I feel like I could get lost in them and forget the entire world.
I blink and I'm snapped out of whatever daze I was in.
I clear my throat and stand up straight. "I need my bag." I avoid eye contact. He bends down and grabs it from the floor, handing it over to me. I mumble a thank you and walk to my suitcase.
I open the bag as he moves from the wall. "I'll see you at the ball." I hum and expect him to leave, which he does, but not without giving me a kiss to the temple that has my body short circuiting.
The door shuts, but my brain hasn't quite caught up. What even was that? Did he mean to do that? Was it an accident?
I hear the sound of someone laughing. I slowly trail my gaze to the sound, Malia leaning against the bathroom door frame. She sighs after laughing, a grin on her face. "You are so pathetic."
I stand up. "You did it." She shrugs innocently. "You tripped me."
"So what?"
"I'm not falling in love again." I make clear. "So your attempt at matchmaking didn't work."
She rolls her eyes. "Really? You're still hung up on him?"
"He's dead."
"Because of you."
I instantly shake my head, muttering the word, "No." I point a finger at her. "I did not kill him." I glare.
"You didn't hold the knife, but you are still as much to blame!" I scoff in disbelief. "If you hadn't shut it off, he'd still be here. You can try and deny it as much as you'd like, but you and I both know it's a truth you don't want to admit." She sneers.
Then, she disappears. I grit my teeth before grabbing my dress and walking into the bathroom. I don't close the door as no one is going to show up anytime soon. I slip on the dress, but I leave it on my waist. I turn my back to the mirror, staring at the scars that litter my skin. Some are burn marks from where he burnt me with a blow torch.
