Ever After

Letting Go

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This chapter is in Jack's perspective.

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There were a few moments of savoury silence, moments that I knew wouldn't last more than the seconds they did. The moments of silence came with a feeling of easiness and calmness, an overwhelming release of tension that'd been let out on the rooftop, one that was too silent to exist after hearing Felix's roars.

But, still, it was there, and I had to cling onto it just as tightly as my hands to my arms, my knees to my chest, my face to my knees, for I knew that said moment would soon be gone, that something new would happen, whether it involved Felix bringing Mark back on a leash or not.

Fortunately for me, that didn't happen – but, what did happen made me even more uneasy.

Before I could feel my fingertips regain the life they'd lost thanks to the aggressive bite of the cold, the sound of police sirens forced me to jump and spring back to life (even though they sounded quite distant). The sound became louder and louder until they'd presumably arrived in the parking lot below, meaning they were coming into the hotel – I sucked the air back in from when it'd deflated from my lungs, knowing Mark wouldn't be dumb enough to call the cops after we'd just recently bombed Felix and his pregnant girlfriend with Home Depot's best shades of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple.

By the time the footsteps started pounding up the emergency stairs, I was sitting up, noticing immediately that a handful of police officers had arrived, each one of them heading towards Will and Killian, who had been discussing indistinct conversation while I was incapable of moving a limb. They skipped over me, and I wondered why for but a moment before Mark showed up, his face capable of explaining everything – although, there was one thing his face couldn't explain, and that was why his father was right beside him.

"What –"

"His business trip," Mark said quickly, before throwing his arms around my neck.

Caught off guard, I froze for a moment (which it was hard not to do just before Christmas), feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of me, but not by Mark's tiny body. It was by the situation and what was going on, how we'd suddenly transcended from an aggressive beat-down to some sort of therapy session, one that involved adorable hugs from Mark, arguments involving the police and the bystanders, and an evil glare from his father, who I'm sure blamed me for all of this.

I gave Mark a few pats on the back in exchange for the embrace, unsure of how to hold him when in the presence of his father, just as accepting of our relationship as mine at the moment.

"Does he know about Ch–"

"No."

I nodded, my head grazing his shoulder as I did. He felt warm and cozy, making going back inside no longer important – why bother going back to the hotel room when we could just sit here, cuddling? (Not to say we'd be doing anything other than cuddling in our hotel room.)

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded again, pulling away so that there was a small space between us – I still clutched onto his shoulders, as if I required them for balance.

"Where's Felix?"

"The police station," he offered. "Apparently, he's done these kinds of things before, so, as soon as they found out it was him, they were already off, telling him he could call his mom from there."

I beamed, but only for a second before flinching and crumbling back into a little ball, feeling Mark's hands cup my shoulders once again in order to comfort my shriveled body. It was odd how much it hurt to smile – I mean, with a heart as cold as mine, it usually was pretty tedious, but this took the cake.