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Syn POV

"We still haven't finished our conversation." I said as he led me through the hallway, his eyes shifting at every noise. His body tensing at every creek in the floor and moan of the walls around us, the settling of the building.

He was on edge. Tense. Frigid.

"I know." He said hoarsely, the first word that he's spoken since his whispered conversations with the doctor.

I didn't want to know anything about it. I didn't, couldn't, hear it right now. I didn't want to know what Silas could have possibly done. I needed one day. One day where for a second I could pretend I was normal.

Elias eyes still were a little foggy, but so much better than how they looked when I first walked into that apartment. His gaze was distracted, as if he was both lost in his head, yet looked around us with sinister focus.

His firm grip on me drew me close to him. Closer than I thought I'd ever get to him again. His hand wrapped tightly around me, his palm against the digit in my hip.

His hands, so murderous wrapped tightly, as if a monster was hiding within these twisted walls.

Elias had tore a man to pieces with those hands. He has tore many more than just one. Yet last night with his bloody hands he held me and promised to put us back together.

It surely was the craziest parts of me that desired him to try. That made me want to wash it all away. Forget what had happened.

He had used me and he lied. With those devastating lips of his he had spun webs of lies, hidden truths and wound every sentence and every syllable with hidden meanings.

Then He screamed like the devil when he thought I was dead.

I shot him point blank. His blood still appears on my skin when I dream.

It felt like we were walking on glass around each other, scared to shatter another pane that was keeping us standing.

I can't describe why I can't escape him, why whatever we have won't let us part. Why the way he looks at me erases all the bad things that I feel coming up and surrounding me. Why when he had dismissed me sent a rotting feeling through me that I haven't been able to stop. Even now.

Even now that we say we will fix it. Even when he has let me peak behind the curtain into his soul.

His silence when singing the divorce papers haunt me still. The menacingly calm glare in his eyes. I still see how his eyes had looked then in flashes behind my eyelids.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked finally, realizing the silence that had fell between us.

He raised his eyebrow. "Depends."

"Elias." I said in quick reply as we drew closer to the door. "We have to talk." I said, gripping his arm, sending his eyes straight to mine.

His pupils widened, and he let out a breath like he'd not expected to have seen what he saw. "Syn..."
He paused, his eyes in mine as he let his lips fall open but closed then just as quickly, as if to keep him from saying more than he should. "Not here. Not right now."

"Then when?" I whispered, my eyes exploring his. Oh and How the greyness of his eyes burned like magma when he looked at me.

"Come." He said, his gaze sharpening as we stopped at the door and he reached to open it. His eyes creasing, his mouth parting to speak.

"I will tell you everything you have ever wanted to know." He said to me simply, like he meant it. Like it was a promise he very much intended to keep. "I know you think I'm being cruel to him."

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