The Elite ✓

two | so easily, so quickly.

I just wanted to playfully point out that it has been exactly three years since the first draft was posted, and I could not be more proud.

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I finally collapsed after an astounding five-hour read. If I had stayed out of my room any longer, the Women's room would've probably turned into my study. I was nowhere near the end of the booklet, and though I had learned more than enough for a day, I knew I couldn't slow down.

I could either decide I loved Lucas and fought to be his one and only, I could also decide that I loved Will, and only have to learn half of all the content written, or I could decide I wanted neither and crawled back to my humble home.

Unable to comprehend the matters anymore, I made my way, skipping dinner, for the second time this week and crept my way to the private music area, a familiar chain of keys dangling from my fingers.

I rubbed my fingers together and headed straight for the massive grand piano.

"Honestly, Holly, I was starting to think you were avoiding me," Lucas sat beside me, the two of us sharing a bench, "But yet, it seems like you have more important matters to be dealt with." In his hand, he carried my booklet, the one I had placed on the ground to begin my piece.

"Yeah." I scratched the back of my neck, "It's been a tough day."

As I began to press a set of familiar keys, playing an irreplaceable baroque piece that had been stuck in my heart since the day I was born, two sets of fingers are placed at my back and the touch is electric, sending the volts up my spine

I recoil, my keys falling out of time. 

"Hey," Will says continuing to massage my back, and I moan at the ease of relaxation. I can practically feel him smiling at the appreciation for his gesture. For a moment, we both forget about Lucas' presence. "Feeling better?"

"Much," I sigh. My hands have already fallen off the piano, and instead, I'm bathing in the luxurious feeling of this massage. I could feel the tension from my body slipping.

Lucas snaps from beside me, practically pushing Will to the ground. It's not long before a not-so-aggravated fight erupts, "Don't touch her." Lucas yells gruffly. All this shouting is making his voice temporarily lower. 

"Why not," Will yells back.

"Guys," I intercept as much as I can, "Stop!"

They don't listen. Once again, they've begun to pace each other, mimicking each other's movements, like two lions when they gage their position before the fight. I wrap my arms around Lucas' neck in a hugging position, but I'm on his back, and a flash of hurt passes through Will's eyes.

"Stop, okay," I whisper quietly. "It's okay, Lucas. Just relax." And he does, and for the moment the tension is ceased. But it's not long until Will rekindles the flames.

We're falling apart so easily, and so quickly. 

"She. Chose. Me."

Lucas jerks his head back and I sigh in annoyance. These two will never get over it. They really won't, and it's beginning to take it's toll on me, too.

"And, she's in my selection. She's fighting for me, and until we both agree it's never going to work. It is going to work." What a great line of motivation.

"Stop," I yell, putting myself between them. First, I place both my palms on either of Will's shoulder and push him backwards, sending him tumbling. It's not a heavy push, and I think he simply fell on purpose to prevent the fall from hurting a more vital part of him rather than his butt if he were to stand back up and I was to push him again. 

Then, without any hesitation, I take the chain of dangling keys and drag Lucas out of the room. These boys needed to stay away from each other if they didn't want any casualties in the future. Rebels are enough, if not already too much.

"Send me home," I say, through tears. "Do it, please."

The longer his dark blue eyes stare at me, the more I feel like crumbling to the ground. They have enough as it is, if my intentions weren't to properly stay, then there was genuinely no point in causing any more distress.

"I won't." He breaks his gaze. We're standing right outside the room, where we still won't be heard. "Not even in this state I will."

I shake my head, "I'm toxic for you both, it's a whole new level."

Then, he grabs my hands and continues to hold our gazes, and I'm not sure if I've melted to the ground already, I press my body against his, bringing us into a tight embrace when he speaks. His voice is smooth now, much like the contrast to this second side of him I've been seeing a lot of lately. "You can't leave me," he repeats.

"You have to find a Queen," I murmur, "Not a wife."

"You're my Queen," he whispers, before giving my hand one last squeeze. His words linger in my thoughts, but by the time I've snapped back to my reality, he's already bid me goodbye and rushed off to another meeting. Do I really want my life like this?

I'm standing here long enough to see Will slowly make his way out of the room, as quietly possible. He practically jumps at the sight of me. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." He gives me a curt nod, and I have no other option than to offer the most awkward smile I've ever had to wear.

"It's okay." I say, "It should be me that apologizes, though. Anyway, I should really be heading out now, It's nice to see you, Will. It really is." With that, I turn on my heel with the intention of walking back up the staircase and shutting my door so tight it would never open to see the light of day ever again, but Will has other plans. He reaches for my hand and spins me backwards. It's not a forceful grip, more like a shy attempt.

"Holly, -" he starts, at a clear loss of words

You're my Queen.

Almost as quickly as he grabbed my hand, I shake off his grasp and run up the stairs as quick as I can. I'm carrying the tips of my dress to prevent any accidents, but I know I'm going to trip eventually. I'm tempted to unclasp my heels and shake off the feeling of guilt building up in my body by the second. I hear Will call my name, multiple times, in fact, and I'm reminded that I've got to stop switching people like dirty laundry and watching them tear themselves apart.

Put yourself together, I tell myself as I slip through the hallways, nearly knocking into Mia while giving her an apologetic smile that she accepts, and eventually slamming my door shut, crouching to the ground as I do. 

You're my Queen, the echo refuses to stop, clinging my thoughts onto it like a piece of tape. 

I wish the floor would just open up and let me fall through.