Wildflowers and Tattoos (The Crow: Bill Skarsgard)

Chapter 7

❀Lillie❀

It's loud out here.

Taking a deep breath I try to ignore the headache forming between my temples. The sun is shining today, heating the chilly winds, and making the weather near perfect. It's too bad I can't appreciate the beautiful weather to its full capacity. For the first time since I've arrived at this facility, I am participating in the 'workout.' I had decided to spit my pills out earlier, so instead of being miserable and stuck in my room, I am engaging in a shitty exercise regime. I may be out of shape, and struggling to breathe, but I know that this is absolutely nothing compared to a legitimate athletic workout.

My attention is being divided in three, and I can't tell if that's contributing to my harsh breaths, or if it's just the poor state of my body. Everyone's audible breaths are creating a symphony of noise with the addition of the whistle of the wind, and the rustling of our clothes. The voices consider the noise of my surroundings as the green light to converse loudly, adding to my already pounding head. And my body feels like it is planning to give out at any moment.

Despite all of these negatives, I feel fairly okay, not good but also not bad. I am simply okay for once.

Things between Erik and I have been tense for the past couple of days, courtesy of my denial. I haven't been avoiding him per se, but I haven't exactly been not ignoring him. Ever since he showed me his tattoos I really tried to understand what it is he makes me feel, and he was right. I lied when I told him he didn't make me nervous, but I also told him a half truth. It's true he does make me nervous, but he doesn't just make me nervous. He makes me excited, and happy, and adventurous, and more alive than I've ever felt before. He makes me feel so many things that I'm scared there isn't something he could make me feel. I've barely lived enough to understand myself, and his presence is throwing in things I've experienced or even learned about. I've only known him for a short period and he already has so much insight into my life.

I gave him this power over me the moment I looked into his bright eyes and saw something I wanted to live for. I wanted to live to see his eyes again, and now that I have I can't seem to get enough. It's terrifying how quickly he has managed to become a necessity to my relaxation. Before it was always pain, or blood, or Hell, but now all it seems to take is a good look into those emerald irises of his to have the reassurance that I'm alive, and that what I'm experiencing is real. It's frightening, the ease he has in calming my raging thoughts.

I haven't spoken to him since that night in his room, not out of anger or malice towards the truth that he unveiled, but out of fear. Horrible, nerve numbing fear. Even though I've become mute with him, he still treats me the same as he has since meeting me. He is still persistent in getting me to open up, and I fear he's already been able to do so. He still walks me to meals, and tells me a terrible joke he's come up with. He still sits in my room at nights and watches me draw or write, sometimes working on his own piece. He keeps up with the routine we've created and I can't decide whether to be angry at his determination, or grateful for him sticking with me even while I'm closed off. He's such a stable presence that I almost wish he'd been in my life from the beginning.

"What the fuck is going on here?" The overly angered question snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Get your shit together!" My eyes snap over to where a guard is harassing Eric. "You know we're still out here? It's because of your bullshit! Huh?"

A fiery emotion sparks in my chest at how the man treats Eric. His hands shoving Eric to draw a reaction out of him. Eric doesn't react and that stokes the flame burning within me.

I know Eric tends to avoid confrontation with the assholes here, but I can't help but feel angry that he lets them treat him like shit. It's not fair that he has to deal with crap from the guards on top of the issues that come with having pushed his way into my life. A bucket of water is dumped over the flame of my anger; I'm making Eric's life harder by ignoring him. I've never seen him have a friendly interaction with anyone here other than Jules. I'm probably one of the few people that treats him like a human, and he probably enjoys not having to worry about being pushed around or yelled at. I've been ignoring him because of the halestorm of emotion he brings over me, and in doing so I've most likely stolen one of the few times he's able to enjoy himself.