Choleric

Chapter XII

•˙ Cassius Point Of View ˚•

[Unedited]

"The true monster that lies within us is our self-control – or lack of."

The full white face watched humbly from above, its smile brightening up the earth with an eerie light. Stars danced around it, winking at the trees below as animals scuttled around them, finding a place to stay while darkness swept across the land and painted everything with shadows.

White hot waves crashed over Cassius as the full moon behind thick glass blurred before him. He growled in frustration. The guttural sound of his voice cut through the loud chatter of the pack below him. It was dinnertime and everyone was there, talking, shouting, laughing. The voices hit his ears like a speed train; hard and unforgiving. They demanded to be heard.

Where is he? Cassius thought, panic tried to boil up from the pit of his stomach but he pushed it down. He wasn't supposed to be scared of anything. If father was here, he'd have a fit.

Senses in overdrive, Cassius leaned on the kitchen counter, head between taught shoulders as he stared at the marble bench top. His eyes kept going in and out of focus, the taste of his own saliva felt heavy on his tongue, the smell of bodies swarming in the room beneath him as ears picked up every little thing; the running footsteps of children downstairs, the buzz of electricity zipping through wires like veins carrying blood.

Trying to distract himself from the overpowering sensations Cassius focused solely on filling his lungs and deflating them like a balloon. Up, down, in, out.

The high pitched beeping of his watch pulled him out of focus and back into the overwhelming seas that tried to force him onto his knees. He's late. Cassius thought as his wrist slammed against the bench in attempt to shut the beeping that signalled a new hour off.

8 o'clock. Half an hour to go, then it's hell for the rest of the night. His limbs shook as veins pumped fear induced adrenaline to every fibre in his being. No! Not fear. He concluded as he watched his arms shake, beads of sweat running down his arm, finding paths through the thin hairs that stood on end.

I don't live in fear. People live in fear of me.

The apartment floor squeaked open. Cassius breathed a sigh of relief, finally he was here.

"Cassius?" The melodic voice caused him to freeze. He felt a hand wrap around his stomach as he cursed inwardly. She's not supposed to be here.

"Get out," he breathed painfully, but the mentality of his words hurt the most. He knew they would push her away.

"Are you okay?" She asked nervously, watching the constant rippling of his muscles as he stayed bent over the bench, his back facing her. Her scent flew into his nostrils and drowned out the sickening smell of heaped, sweaty bodies moving downstairs. For a moment he focused on her scent. It wa like a bandaid, covering the pain that swelled inside him, until he was blind to it. The only thing he could focus on was the sweet smell that drifted from her skin, the soft sound of her breathing and the rapid fire of her heart. He thought about telling her. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she could help...

He growled harshley to himself. Don't be stupid, bandaids are meant to be ripped off.

"I'm fine. I just need Cash," his closed off answer caused Celia's head to drop. He could feel her pain crawling under his skin. He would regret that – and the last few days – later.

Celia turned and hurried out, taking with her the sound of feet clicking against tiles. Breathing heavily Cassius felt his ribs shift out of place. Groaning in agony, taught arms lost their strength. Unable to bear the weight of his body Cassius fell to his knees, face narrowly missing the edge of the bench. Sucking in a deep breath, thin lids blocked his vision as the muscles around his torso and ribcage clenched in attempt to keep the bones in place. He needed to get to his office. Fast.