Pure Descendant and His lawyer to be. #Wattys2017

Twenty.

Okay, this is supeeer doooper short but it was supposed to be this way and the next chapter reveals a lot of things.

And i'll make sure it's sooner than you expect me to upload.

I'd like you to acknowledge me with your presence ghost readers so that I can be a little happy somebody's reading it.

Vote, Comment and Critique. And please don't kill me.

-Eden.

⚜

Twenty,
Purple.

"It's not what you think." My first words as I wonder how to explain this mess to Sam. 

He stares at me blankly. I can't read his thoughts. Though I wish I could.

"I am not thinking." He comments after a while of secretive pondering. 

"Huh?" I frown at his vagueness. He comes forward to settle himself across from me. 

"Let's face the truth Zara. I am not saying what your best friend claims is right but I do have eyes. And I see the sparks between the two of you." 

To say I am irate is an understatement. "Have you been reading fairytales lately because I really think your head is in one right now. Freaking sparks?" I almost howl at him but of course he doesn't flinch. 

"Do you have any idea how sick with worry Eugene is? He sent me after you because you took a cab. We have around twenty spare cars and you decide to take-"

"So now I am not allowed to take cabs?" Cutting him off, I laugh humorlessly at the irrationality of it all. 

"The point isn't that you took a cab, the point is that your life has been in danger since you've arrived here. And you're the first fućking woman my brother gives all the shit about. So goddamit, at least try to act like a mature woman. If something goes wrong, he'll blame himself. He already believes it has everything to do with his nasty past." He is angry at me.

Damn Eugene for turning everyone against me.

"The past he isn't willing to trust me with. And besides I am not even that woman, it's Elizabeth." Within a second every ounce of anger dripping from him vaporises and he is practically on the floor, laughing. 

The heck? What is it now? 

"You think Eugene is in love with Elizabeth? Sorry to be a spoiler, but my brother doesn't fall for those who can't be interested." I am confused. 

"What's that supposed to mean? Of course I've seen them, they like each other."

He chuckles a little more at the furrow between my eyebrows. "It must be the dust in your eyes Zar bear, our doctor swings the other way. Or else I would've made a move on her, age gap or no age gap." He states with a smug wink, clearing my stupid misunderstanding. 

What the hell?

"Oh." Is all that escapes from me. So Eugene is not in love with her? But what about the girl he likes? If it's not Elizabeth then who is it? It can't possibly be me. Eugene makes sure to keep my doubts away. 

"But I've heard them talking. Jay and him. He likes someone, definitely not me." I share him the piece of information, certain about this one. 

Sam's hand curl around the water bottle in front of him. He takes his time chugging the water down. 

"I am sure he does." He approves of my speculation. But as if he remembered he has better things to do, he gets up heading for the door. 

"I forgot Eddy was waiting for us in the car." 

Of course. Eddy. How could I forget about her? The perpetrator of my now flustered emotions. 

Do you Zara Vivian really like your Vampire Prince of the 21st century in that way? 

Not now! Hush you stupid brain. 

With incoherent words to myself, I snatch my card from the waiter, mumbling chirpy apologies as I make a dash for the restaurant's exit. 

⚜

I can't help but stop at the living hall's door before heading to the direction Eddy did; my room. I can distinctively hear Sam's feet moving around, I can even sense his agitation as he admonishes Eugene for his reckless drinking.

"You can't hold the whiskey well. What were you thinking? Dad would be thrilled if he finds out." He snaps, disapprovingly.

"Is she okay?" Eugene's concern creeps up my spine, his tone, a combination of hurt and worry making me shudder.

So Sam wasn't just talking about the existence of unicorns, Eugene really is apprehensive about it.

"Are you even listening to me? Why exactly are you drunk? And she's fine." He tells him, agitated at his dismissal of the fact that he is drunk when he isn't supposed to.

I am unable to see Eugene as I have my back on the wall beside the door. I don't think I have the guts to sneak either.

But his next words spilled with venom do make determination pounce in my steps. "Did she meet Nolan?"

Before Sam can spare him the luxury of flipping things over, I walk inside with a promise to leave with my integrity intact.

"What did I ever do to make you have such prestigiously low thoughts about my morality?" I ask rhetorically as both heads turn in my direction. Eugene is accompanied by two empty bottles of bourbon on the table as well as one half filled in his hand. Sam seems frustrated, that's all.

"Oh wait, you are too drunk off your ass to answer that." I am seething with a flaming desire to slap some sense into him.

"I did meet him. We had a great time and we'll hangout sometime soon." I lie smoothly, though a sense of pride makes me cringe a little. I have lost it, completely.

If Eugene was holding his undoubtedly slurry tongue until now; he intend to, not anymore.

"I knew it. Why lie, Zara? You could've told me the truth." His tone is sharp, searing through me, clenching the lives out of a couple nerves.

So my best friend thought i'd be foolish enough to fall for this guy, I can't even possibly like him anymore.

"Because you never believe me when I tell you one." I surrender control to my emotions, tears escaping my eyes and I make no effort to wipe them away. He should know how he hurt me. He should.

Maybe I do like him more than I thought I did; because one thing I know for
sure is, only those who matter to you hold the power to wound you.

And I'm certainly purple all over. And it hurts.

Sam is mad at the both of us, I hear him yelling while he enlighten Eugene with the truth he didn't accept from me, but it's all irrelevant, distant as I make my way back to my best friend's arm, desperate for comfort.

Damn her for being right every fućking time.

And damn her for telling me what's right.