Matthew watched as the girl disappeared into the institute.
He turned to walk away, knowing that tomorrow he would come back here and find out what her name was. But tonight, he would be ending off on a cliffhanger.
Her behavior disturbed him. The way she flinched every time he inched closer to her, or how she had looked like she wanted to run when she realized he was following her, or even how she refused to speak in his presence.
She was in a state of disarray, her curly hair was flat at the back of her head, her clothes were filled with dirt, and her eyes-
Her eyes.
When he had gotten closer to her, he could make out her irises were perhaps the darkest shade of blue he had ever seen.
In those midnight blue eyes, Matthew saw the fear, the pain, and the suffering she had endured.
What had happened in her life to make her so jumpy?
Matthew wasn't sure. But, what he knew was that he needed to learn more about her.
★
The sunlight filtered through the curtains, pressing against Hero's eyelids. She turned her body so she could sleep in peace, but it simply didn't work.
She sighed and sat up, the grogginess kept her movements slow and stilted.
Hero had never had a better night of rest. It was uncertain whether it was the physical exertion, panic, or the comfort of the bed that allowed her to sleep deeply.
Hero slipped out of the bed, shivering when her bare feet made contact with the cold oak floor.
She had been too exhausted to change out of her clothes, so she felt disgusting. Her skin was covered with the grime of her dress.
She quickly slipped out of the entrapping fabric. It was a simple dress, with white fabric and a floral sash that tightened at her waist. She was sure that the dress was not even slightly fashionable.
It was one of the last reminders of Love. He had provided her wardrobe whenever she had made a point to ask. She was uncertain where Love's fortune had been garnered from, but he liked to spend it on her.
Perhaps that was his way of apologizing.
She folded the dress carefully before shoving it under her bed.
Her bedroom door opened and she whirled around, only to be greeted by the sight of a middle-aged servant.
Though she was still wearing her underclothes, Hero wanted to cover herself from this woman's gaze. "Hello, Miss Silverstone, I'm here to freshen you up."
In Clove Gardens, Hero never had any servants to help her. Love would use his warlock abilities to do all of the housework with a pinch of his hand.
"Your name is...?" Hero asked.
"Belinda, Miss," she said as she walked straight to the curtains and pushed them wide open. Hero winced as the sunlight streamed unbrokenly into her room.
Belinda disappeared into the washroom, leaving Hero alone.
She didn't know how to act around help. Was she supposed to just wait? Or was she expected to go help Belinda?
Hero walked to the armoire and opened the door.
Inside was only one dress.
Her heart stumbled on itself. Was she expected to pay for more clothing, or was this supposed to be the singular dress she was expected to wear everywhere? And what was she expected to wear when she was... fighting demons?
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fallen hero | matthew fairchild
Teen FictionThere's something strange about Hero Silverstone. Demons run from her, shadowhunters hate her, and Matthew Fairchild can't contain himself whenever he's in her presence. What happens when the fates seem to keep pushing Matthew and Hero together? (m...