as we fall ✤ octavian ✓

eleven

His arms were still around her, his muscles tightening as the words left Logan's lips. They had been a comfort to her, Octavian's embrace. The cold that had drenched her skin was met with the contrast of his warm skin, which sent a signal straight to her heart.

Laoise blinked.

She'd finished coughing, yet for some reason, her throat ached once again, as though she'd swallowed the entire river. Every inch of her screamed, and suddenly, the warmth Octavian had provided was now far too hot. It was burning her up.

"He didn't...I didn't..." Octavian began to protest, though his words died off, trailing into nothing. There was nothing he could say to undo Logan's words, she knew that. Because the boy had spoken the truth. The gross, ugly truth.

She jolted away, wiggling out of his grip and shoving herself onto her feet.

"Laoise," Octavian stood up as well, practically stumbling over his own long limbs as he stumbled through the sand to meet her. Through the moon illuminating him, his eyes sparkled with more emotion than she'd ever seen on him. The rage that typically accompanied him had vanished, replaced with pure, utter desperation.

Her gaze shifted, finding Logan. He was still on the sand, frowning. He was just as confused as she was, she could tell. Kids didn't lie often, she knew that. Not about those sorts of things, anyways. Logan especially, she wasn't sure he could tell a proper lie if his life was on the line.

"He misunderstood. Logan, he misunderstood what happened."

Laoise didn't realize she had spoken out loud until she'd closed her mouth again.

Octavian blinked, but the silence that followed him told her she was so very wrong.

True love's kiss, was what Logan had said. If Cupid was here, that was exactly the kind of stunt he would've pulled. But Godly magic wasn't without its limits, and a spell that required true love's kiss wouldn't have worked without that depth of emotion.

He had kissed her. He loved her.

It didn't matter that she was drenched. It didn't matter that she'd nearly drowned just minutes ago. It didn't matter that they were in the middle of nowhere. All Laoise knew is that she needed as much space as physically possible between her and Octavian.

Tears bit at her eyes, but she shoved them away. It wouldn't have made a difference.

"Laoise," Octavian called her name as she spun around.

Nothing he could've said would've changed the betrayal searing through her. He seemed to be aware of this as well, as he kept quiet, allowing her to walk away.

The sand bled into an array of trees, thick enough that the light of the moon barely provided any light for her. Thick enough that she could vanish for a minute, collect herself.

Only when she knew she was alone, far away from Octavian and Logan and their prying eyes did she burst into tears.

Her hand didn't move to wipe them away, as she leaned against one of the trees and sank to the ground. Instead, she brought her fingers to her lips, frantically scrubbing at them as though she could erase any remnant of Octavian on her.

It was wrong. All of it, it was wrong.

Love, intimacy, it was something she was destined for. She knew that. She'd known that at an age she shouldn't have. Her father basically damned her to it, to a life of sex and romance and being desired by nearly every man whose path she crossed. And maybe other girls would want that, would want to be wanted, but they'd change their minds after a lifetime of being viewed as a body and a body alone.