Oblivious

47 // Rotting carcass

-Elora-

"Do you get your eyebrows plucked?" I blurt out, tilting my head.

Elijah pauses his movements, makes a face before completely disregarding the rest of his conversation with Valentin and turning his head to face me. "What?"

"Do you get your eyebrows plucked?" I ask again, narrowing my eyes as I stare at his suspiciously shaped eyebrows.

"No?" Elijah shakes his head. Tries to sound confident but his answer comes out sounding like a question.

"Liar." I poke his cheek. Frowning.

He has really nice eyebrows. I'm jealous.

Elijah only laughs, wrapping a leg around my chair and pulling me closer, his arm going around my waist.

He places a kiss on my forehead, mumbling a small, "I love you."

Grinning I kiss his nose, turn to face the guys. Pretend not to notice his slight frown when I don't say it back.

I love Elijah.

I really do. I'm just scared.

Scared this is some short of sick joke and he's not really that into me. That he didn't lie and I really do bore the living fuck out him.

Mostly I'm scared that he's only here because he thinks I'm pretty. And he's just playing the long game, waiting for me to give in to him before leaving.

I mean that's what he said, right? That if he knew how willing I was to spread my legs he wouldn't have bothered getting to know me. That he only stuck around so long because I was pretty.

He was angry. I know that. And he claims he didn't mean it. That he was jealous. And to an extent I can understand that.

I can understand he was hurt and wanted to hurt me too.

But he still said it. And he can't take it back.

Angry words are silent thoughts.

Right?

But then he's placing his hands under me and lifting me onto his lap, planting a kiss on my nose and moving my hair away from ear so he can whisper, "You okay Daze?"

And maybe he really didn't mean it.

"I don't know." I confess, leaning my head on his chest. The pumping of his heart grounding me. My earlier happy mood suddenly vanishing for no apparent reason.

Why do I do this to myself?

Why do I have to overthink things and make myself upset?

He said he didn't mean so why can't I let it go?

Why can't I forgive and forget and move on? Why does his words have to eat away at me? Tear at my flesh like it's nothing but a rotting carcass. Why can't I just forget?

Why did he have to say those things and why do I have to understand?

Elijah rubs a hand up and done my back, plays with the end of my hair. Presses a light kiss to the tip of my ear. "Do you want to go somewhere else? Somewhere quiet?"

I shake my head. The busy noise of the cafeteria soothing the noise in my head. Giving me something else to focus on.

"I'm just being dramatic." I tell him, knowing I'll get over it soon enough.

But that doesn't seem to comfort him in the slightest. He sighs like he's feed up. And my stomach turns to mush. Rotting away until there's nothing but acid left to burn me alive.