Insurgence [h.s]

fifteen

"But... I don't understand," Alouette stutters out, looking from Jayden and Brooks to Gray. "What is this—why—"

Brooks rolls his eyes. "Do you have a victim complex or something? Why the hell do you think everyone is always out to get you?"

"Excuse me?!"

Gray pushes off the car and puts his hand on Brooks's shoulder. "Play nice," he warns him in a sarcastic tone. "This isn't how you make friends."

Alouette balks. "Friends?! I'd never—"

"You know, you're incredibly picky for being so lonely. No wonder you have no friends," Brooks bites back, crossing his arms. His cool blue eyes look her up and down, and a cruel smile curves his lips. "How's the untouchable act working out for you?"

"You destroyed my home! My friends! Everything!" Gray's hand seizes her wrist—she unintentionally drew closer to Brooks while talking. She yanks it away and takes another step towards him and glowers up at him. "Why would I ever want anything to do with you?"

Brooks takes a step back, but his voice holds its usual lightness when he says, "The Palace destroyed everything. There's a difference there. Don't get mad at me because you can't get mad at Styles."

She flinches back. She doesn't know what shocks her more—what he said, or the unofficial way he referred to Harry. She's never heard anyone from the Palace refer to him so casually before. A smile curves Brooks's mouth again, and she realises she's been quiet for too long. "What did you just say?!" she hisses out, infusing her words with all the rage she can muster to hide how deeply he stung her.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." There's a violence in Brooks's tone. He's never spoken to her so harshly before—he's made fun of her, got annoyed at her, but not like this. Away from the Palace, there's something biting, something hungry, inside him. "You hate me because you hate him, but you can't really hate him, can you? So here you are—'cause it's so much easier this way, isn't it? I mean I get it, I've been all over you lately since I was assigned to you and you found it annoying, but you really should get better at picking out your enemies. When are you going to grow up?"

"How dare you—"

"You want to know what the actual truth is?" he spits out, speaking over her, "The truth is that you're terrified and lonely and useless. You don't know what the hell you're doing and everyone can see it. And you're drowning everything in hate because it's so much easier than guilt to deal with, right? Do you really hate the Palace for destroying your home, as you called it, or yourself for not protecting it?"

She grabs him by the collar of his black uniform. "You—"

Gray pulls Brooks out of her grasp and forces her to take a few steps back. "No arguing. We're supposed to act as a team."

"We're not a fucking team!" Alouette hisses out, then she looks at Brooks again. "What are you even doing here if you hate me so much?!"

"I don't hate you. I never have, but you're too damn blind to see it. Maybe if you weren't so busy wallowing in hate and hurt you would've realised I'm the only one who's been on your side for the past twenty days."

She lets out a hard laugh. "And I'm supposed to believe this?! This is pathetic—"

Brooks steps closer to her again. "The only pathetic thing here is you." He's so close that he doesn't even have to raise his voice when he mutters, "I know you're much smarter than this, Al."

She gasps—though she doesn't know why. For a moment, she's so in shock that she can do nothing but stand there, staring into his eyes. His words struck deep, and even though she doesn't know the reason, the look on his face tells her he's feeling her same way. She looks away. "This is pointless," she says—her voice shakes. "Why would you come—"