His Darling

His Darling | 7

CHAPTER SEVEN.

I groaned and turned away from the sharp brightness that I knew came from that stupid window, impatiently just deciding to open my eyes. It was useless to keep sleeping, I wasn't tired. But I wasn't looking forward to another sullen day. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, yawning and shifting in bed. My eyes caught the empty space beside me and a strange feeling blossomed in my chest like a flower. The memory flowed into my brain like a soft breeze as I sat up.

Last night, Xander came into the room and woke me from a terrifying nightmare. And I had asked him to stay.

My eyes found the dirt on the floor and I knew it was Xander's shoes from last night. I brought my legs up to my chin and hugged them in apprehension. Nightmares weren't something new--I always had them--one too many times since I was brought here.  I'd bitten my tongue without realizing it, heard my own screams tear through the eerie silence of the house, and hid in cold sweat and hysteria under the covers. Not a single soul in the house.

But Xander was here last night. Eyes as blue as the ocean and alarmed, body tense, words short. I never would've imagined I'd ask for his company. That was the last thing I'd probably ask him.

But it wasn't.

I pushed that memory out of my head bitterly and got out of bed.

As I walked across the room and opened the door, the failed attempt to escape yesterday weighed down on my shoulders like huge rocks. I walked down the hall and opened the door to the bathroom, quietly stepping in. I looked at the mirror and blinked at my reflection, brushed my teeth, washed my face and then came back out. I didn't even want to look at my hair. It was a wild, curly, tangled mess. It'd been days since I  last washed it. Probably a week.

I looked down at myself. I should probably change the shorts and a tank top--too much skin out of the room. Then I remembered Henry nor Xander weren't here.

I walked down the stairs and strode across the empty living room and into the kitchen, while running my fingers through the knots that possessed my hair, wincing every time I yanked one. I really need to wash my hair, but I don't wanna ask Xander for another shampoo bottle and conditioner. Jesus Christ, that'd be the third time. But then again I don't care and it's not my fault I have dry, thick hair--

My feet stopped in their tracks and my hand became limp in my hair as my eyes caught sight of both Henry and Xander sitting at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Raven." It was Henry who spoke, a cup of coffee in hand.

My eyes found the table, which was packed with old newspapers, books, and maps around. My stomach churned. "Morning," I replied without much effort, looking back at him.

Henry smiled and put his cup down. His hair was pushed back and he was wearing a suit. "I made you pancakes. They're on the counter as we're..." he gestured at the mess on the table with his hands, "sort of busy."

I didn't say anything and glanced at Xander whose concentrated eyes were reading an article with a frown since I came in. He gave the article to Henry, not even bothering to acknowledge my presence. "Are you sure that's the place?"

Henry took it. "It has to be. There's no other place."

I stalked across the kitchen, my eyes finding the plate of pancakes. I snatched them off the counter, grabbing a knife and fork and went straight into the living room. I sat on the single sofa, letting out a breath. Why were they here?