The Daughter Of Illéa

Chapter 71

This past week has been traumatizing.
Not because something tragic has occurred, but because nothing tragic has occurred yet.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have been placed in the final selected's rooms, which isn't great for our stance in the selection. If we can't walk about freely and communicate, things...feelings...the flame of love will die out into melted wax on a platter with nothing but the ashes...the memory.

However, as the other two girls cowered in corners, calling their families, weeping as if they were the ones being threatened, I took a different stance in this situation.

"This is a very fine color, Delilah." Wanda smiled, folding a blanket and placing it in the cupboard.

Despite the probability of me being chosen to be the princess in only the matter of a week or so...I still felt the need to change up my room. The once seductive red that I made an oath to myself in changing when I first arrived was officially taking a toll.

My hand waved back and forth as the sky blue paint finished off my second wall of the day.

"It's not the best, but it was this or a wretched purple." I confront, dropping down a step on the ladder.

"Well, exquisite choice." Wanda says, walking towards the ladder. "Have you spoken to your father...and aunt...lately?" She asked, hiding a smile behind her black lock of hair.

"Now that you ask, no...Cornelia wanted me to call them the night after the threat from Willow, but I couldn't."

"Why not?" It was as if she forgot that not only did I confront the man who touched me uncomfortably, but that I was somewhat threatened in front of the nation. To all of them, Willow did it just because I tried sentencing the man she tried freeing, to death.

However, none of them know of the things I heard...the things I experienced. They didn't hear her on the phone discussing some plan of some sorts, or feel the pain I did when my best friends death was coincidentally after I told her of my suspicions. None other then myself know the real reason she's out to get me.

"Stress..." I limit my words. "Anxiety."

Knock. My heart pounces from my chest, my body taking the toll as the ladder leaped backwards at my bodies costly jump. It didn't cause much considering Wanda shoved it back up against the wall with great force. "Thanks." I mutter exasperated, stepping from the ladder. "Come in." I say, untying my smock and tossing it onto the tarp coating the floor.

Sure enough the face I merely began to forget was standing before me in the most casual outfit yet. Augustus was in denim jeans, bringing a heck of an attraction from my soul. Not to mention his black v-neck hugging his toned chest. His hair isn't combed, but tussled around like a pile of leaves being raked in all directions. Formalities looked far from gone, along with his suit and tie. His dark Atlantic like eyes gave off this carefree attitude, and his faded smirk proved to me he wanted to talk.

"Del." He stood for a moment, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Gus." I say, my own jeans exposing it's fabric beneath my oversized white t-shirt. My blonde hair pulled up into a quick ponytail.

Together we were a hot mess, and if this was what a mess looked like? I wouldn't take it for granted.

Wanda quickly skat out the room, shutting the door behind her.

"We had a lunch earlier..." his voice deep and masculine urged my heart to pounce, but my brain knew better.

"I know," I said. "I've been...working." I turn, looking at my room. So far my sheets on the bed have been from the seducing dark shades of brown and red, and was in the progress of putting up a rather complimenting color...yellow.