Asher Sellinite

Courtney's Hiatus pt3

 I loved sitting on the daybed in that little alcove next to the door of the mudroom, feeling like a spoiled house cat had a certain charm to it at the time. Maybe I'll even start making chittering noises at those weird koala/cat creatures, I forgot what those things are called... chattums? They're oddly cute and fluffy. I've been sitting here for hours and hours, Asher's running errands again and Courtney is nowhere to be found. I can't help but wonder what Asher was even doing. "Running errands" is the most explanation I ever got from him.

Marcus is sitting across from me, busy with his sketchbook as I maladaptive daydream out the window- he keeps glancing up at me though, almost like he expects me to say something any minute now. He chuckles as his pencil scratches along the page,

"Whatcha humming there, Teddy?" he's amused. Is he laughing at me or with me? I shake my head a little, smiling innocently,

"I was humming?" I glance over at him to see a goofy grin and him rolling his eyes at me,

"Yes, you were," he chuckles again and sets his pencil on the windowsill, "are you always this, uh... spacy?" I shrug and look back towards the trees outside, only to notice a figure wandering through the woods, my smile fading, "what is it?" Marcus cranes his neck to follow my gaze, his expression growing more serious as he asks who that is and if I've seen them before.

"I... they're not close enough to see," I say in a hushed tone, pressing a hand against the glass as I stand up to get a better look. My eyes go wide as I realize. It's Estella. She's wandering, meandering. My jaw drops as I watch her get closer until her knock on the door snaps me out of my shock and I quickly stand up and open the door.

"H-hey, uhm, Teddy," Estella looks like she hasn't slept in weeks, and her voice sounds timid. I know I'm staring at her ragged shirt and it probably makes her uncomfortable, but I can't help it, I can see the bruises through the rips on her shirt. They make me want to ask so many questions about where she's been the past few days, "c-can I come in...?" I give a slight nod and gesture for her to come in, saying in as calm of a tone I can muster,

"Marcus and I were just drawing and chatting." I watch Marcus' eyes widen in the shock of seeing Estella's state and he stands up, not minding that his sketchbook falls on the floor.

I don't know if my paternal instincts are shit, or if it's my emergency instincts, or maybe I just looked up to Marcus as a sort of older brother who was supposed to handle all these dangerous situations we got into, but I'm embarrassed about how passive I was in this whole thing. Like I'm some helpless little baby. Marcus grabs her hands and says in a surprisingly compassionate tone, considering their history at least,

"Estella, are you okay? What happened?" he leads her to sit on the daybed that I had perched myself on earlier as I just stand uselessly by the open door. Estella starts explaining what happened in a tone that I can only describe as desperate yet hushed, like she was scared of speaking of what she went through.

Apparently, the past few days, after Courtney had stormed off from Asher's mansion, Estella had been left alone in Courtney's tree-house like cabin all by herself. As a 14 year old who was obviously sheltered from a lot of responsibilities, Estella doesn't know how to feed herself all that well. I guess she's used to being someone's pet- whereas I'm used to fending for myself and taking care of the household... all I'm saying is that I genuinely can't relate to being that helpless, especially when she's the eldest of her 3 siblings.

I don't blame Marcus for taking pity on Estella in this moment, bringing her to the kitchen and feeding her, because Estella is acting like a goddamn stray kitten. I'm kinda just watching all this play out from the far barstool at the kitchen island, my eyes tracing along all the bruises on Estella's torso as she leans against the counter next to Marcus. I have to stop myself from asking all of the insensitive questions I assume anyone in this situation would ask, like, 'what's that weird double puncture wound on your wrist from,' and 'how are most of those bruises so deep that they're already turning green and purple." Normal questions.