A Tear Of Insanity

Chapter 5

Sebastian

I'm not sure whether to be angry or surprised. I had never in my lifetime seen her move so fast, have so much courage and freely spill so much anger. What's worse, I loved every moment of it. The way she fought. The way she shouted. The way she stood her ground. Most surprising of all, is the fact she gave in because of a knife at my skin. That's something I will have to ponder over a little more.

I'm sitting at her side, my elbow resting on my arched leg, staring at the path beneath me.
"Look, I'm sorry okay... I had to..." She begins, her words trailing off into silence.
"Do you know what kind of danger we could have fallen into?" I ask in a low voice.
"Yes! Yes I know but you saw that in there!"
"So what if I did! You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse me."
She huffs.
"Come on... they shot him for speaking, I had to do something."
I rub my fingers on my eyes.
"No no no, you did not need to do a thing! I don't know how we were let off like that and we are lucky they even gave us a ration but we won't be so lucky next time."
"But I can't just let these pigs do what they-
"Yeah? Well tough." I abruptly look away from her, without a word.
"Did you notice how we were released us at the sound of my mother's name?" I must admit, she has a point but she is swerving the topic away, so I do not reply.

"Fine! I will make it up to you, I'll... I'll."
"The hell you will."
"I'm serious, I will, I really will!"
"Listen to me," I look ahead at the dark empty streets. "You don't understand. I lost someone the same way."
She moves closer.
"Who did you lose?"
"Your brother."
I feel her turn away in irritation.
"No, no Stryder, you don't get to do that."
"Do what?"
"Tuning out what I have to say about Leo."
"I don't-"
"Yes you do." I cut her off and continue.
"Believe me when I say, Leo did not leave for some girl. I am not exactly sure why he was taken. At first, I thought it was his defiance but it was clear that someone wanted him desperately. Before he left, all he told me was: ''It is Lillith's at eighteen but her name will be known, so she must keep it secret.'
"What on earth does that mean? What secret?" She looks at me in puzzlement.
"I don't know. All I know is that you could have the same fate, if you play around too much."
She scoffs.
"You never told me this before, so why are you telling me now?"
"You have got to be kidding me! You never let me speak about him before, even if I did, you would never trust me."

I feel her shift beside me, standing up and extending her hand. I look up at her but the moment she sees my face in the moonlight, the curiosity on hers turns into worry.
"Oh god, your face," she says, reaching down to touch my jaw, keeping her hand there as I rise. I momentarily forget whatever I was talking about, when her soft skin touches mine. She traces the deep red lines down my neck with the tips of her fingers, making me shiver. I push her hand away with reluctance.
"We should go to your house-"
"Don't. Don't change the subject."
"I promise I'm not. It's just, I should clean the blood, it's starting to stick."
"It can wait-"
"No it can't. Just listen to me for once."
"Well, that's rich coming from you." I smirk. Ignoring me, she loops her arm around mine dragging me into the silent street.

Chatter from the banqueting hall drowns out, as we navigate our way down the roads. I stay a little ahead, guiding her, since I have never taken her to my home before. We amble from a wider lane into a narrow alley, sandwiched between houses. I pull her now, as we get closer, then halt at a house. It's much like the others, except a wreath on its dying breath, hangs from a nail, hammered to the door. I pull out my key and twist the lock, pushing it open as it creaks.
"So this is where you live," she grins, inching into the long hallway of the house. The moulding walls of the corridor are aligned with multiple, rusty,  doors on both sides. When I get to mine, she lets herself in, spinning around, to look at every inch of the room. It's not a lot. Just a bed at the back beside a cupboard, a sink, a small, dingy window, a desk and a chair.

She takes a small rag from the bed rail and begins to wash it under the tap.
"Do you draw?" She inquires looking at the papers strewn across the table.
Oh shoot.
"Uh... no- I mean yes, yes I do," I blather, rapidly gathering the sketches and shoving them in a box under the bed.
"You didn't tell me you draw." She accuses.
"You didn't ask."
"But I did now, so show me."
"But I don"t want to."
"Oh, right, so you draw embarrassing stuff," she whispers, the corners of her mouth turned up.
God that smile.

"Sit," she orders pointing her eyes to the bed. She takes the chair and sits in front of me holding the damp rag and a small bowl of water.
"Stay still," she cautions and begins to stroke the cloth across my cheek. I flinch as the cold comes in contact with my skin.
"I said stay still," she snaps,  holding me in place.
"Ok, Ok, sorry," I lie, trying not to move. "So... do you believe what I said?"
She holds my face with her free hand, moving my head at her will.
"I think I do," she admits.
I beam and try to look away from her large, crystal eyes, that are holding me hostage.
"What? Stop staring at me!" She shoves my chest, her long eyelashes, fluttering as she blinks.
"Finally, she believes me!" I announce, waving my hands around. A stabbing pain shoots through my cheek as my face stretches, but how can I help it, when it comes to her.

She shakes her head and dips the cloth in the small bowl of water and starts to wipe my neck, the sticky red stains peeling away. As she cleans, I examine her closely. She smells like forest lillies, which I assume, comes from the ones she picks for Leila on her hunting trips. Her nose is thin, her cheekbones subtle, her lips peachy and full. Then there is her eyes. Her exquisite eyes. An icy blue colour, the iris encased in a dangerous, cloudy, black rim. They are usually void of emotion and unreadable, but today, I can see a strange warmth in them.

Abruptly, she stops at the hem of my top.
"Umm... some of the blood has reached under your shirt so... I think I'll leave that for you," she gives me a tight smile, looking away from me. I unlace the string, knotted at the top of my shirt, revealing just below my chest.
She clears her throat as I take the rag from her, cleaning below my collar bone, not breaking from her eyes. She does not blush but squirms under my gaze.

We're still silent, staring at each other, when voices grow louder from outside. The front door bursts open. The middle aged, wrinkly woman storms in and stops in the doorway of my room.
"What did I tell you about girls in my house!" Mrs Hacket yells, her wide podgy figure, shaking the walls. Leila emerges beside her, fear written all over her face. We break away immediately, Stryder darting to the sink and I, staring at the floor, already missing her compelling proximity. Leila scuttles over to her, burying her head in her chest.
"Don't ever do that to me again," she murmurs.

"Oh you stupid boy, I'll have to stitch that up." Mrs Hacket's mouth pouts. "And you." She points at Stryder, still standing in Leilas embrace."You owe me a thank you for watching over your sister and you owe me an apology for nearly getting him killed. Who would pay the last three months rent? Hmm? You? I thought not."
"Thank you, and I apologise," Stryder mumbles with a not-so-convincing smile.
"Good. Now, I'll go get the needle and thread." She hurries away, disappearing up the stairs. It is when she is gone, that we both glance over at each other, chuckles slipping from our mouths.