Ptolemaea | Henry Creel

Always the Fool

YALL IM SO SORRY OFR THE LATE ASS UPDATE GOOD LORD. IM SORRY!!!If its any consolation this chapter is like 8,000 words and there's smut!!! WOOO!!!I 'll see you all at the end.

One Week Later.

Eleven and I were careful to be quiet that morning. We woke just before dawn when bleary-eyed doctors had not yet dared to venture into the hallways. There were guards in the hallways, of course, but I'd been here long enough to know which ones would ask questions and which would not. The one slight benefit of Nina was its comparably lax rules. In the lab, I could hardly leave my room without an orderly stopping me, armed with accusative eyes and prepared to question me into oblivion.

Eleven needed a break. We hadn't spoken much outside of training, despite our careful creeping toward an alliance, and I feared Papa's influence was beginning to take hold of her. She needed friends in here--  friends who didn't want to manipulate her for their own ends or steal what little power she had began coming into.

And so I had greeted her at her bedroom door, a light smile on my face that I hoped she would see as a harbinger of my good intentions. We walked in almost complete silence, but it wasn't nearly as awkward as the last time. We were both nervous. I could feel her eyes on me every few moments, but whenever I glanced at her, she had already looked away.

She didn't trust me. I did not mind, though, because I didn't trust her all that much either.

"Thank you," She suddenly spoke up, breaking our tentative silence.

My steps slowed until we walked side by side, "For what?"

"Coming to see me," She said, keeping her eyes on the floor. I didn't miss the flush of her cheeks, as though she were embarrassed at her words. "Papa and Owens are the only ones who talk to me. I think the other doctors are... too scared."

I smiled softly, "They're not scared of you, Eleven. People are weird with things they don't understand... chances are they just don't know what to do with you."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "What does that mean?"

"Well, they don't know how to talk to you. They think you have nothing in common with them because you're powerful," I shrugged, "It's a shallow way of thinking, but it's human nature to be a little shallow. If I were you, I wouldn't take it too personally."

She frowned, "I want them to like me, though."

I stared at her, my thoughts racing. This was the one disconnect between Eleven and me-- her desire to be liked. I believed it was partly why she was so scared of being seen as a villain. To me, the dislike was inevitable, perhaps even mutual. I wasn't afraid of being a villain, nor had I ever been-- sometimes one has to get their hands dirty. "Why does it matter if they like you?"

She shrugged, "They left their lives behind for this. I want to be... worth it."

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself," I told her, "You being here makes you worth it. The only thing you have to worry about is your training, not random people and their tedious opinions... How has the tank been, by the way?"

She blew a breath from her lips as we turned in the direction of the kitchen. "It's been okay."

"That's good," I said, "Now why don't you tell me how it's really been?"

Before she could answer, I tugged on the kitchen door. The groaning of metal filled the hallway but the doors didn't open. I tried once more. Fuck. "It's locked."

As soon as the words left my lips, footsteps were heard turning the corner. "Sixteen?" A voice called from the other end of the hallway.

I turned to him with a smile on my face, "Hi, Beau."