BLACK

(18) Neutral

EDITED

"Noire, get up." He doesn't try to whisper or hide the lamp turned on. "Noire."

I'm groggy as I sit up. I don't feel right. It's too early, not even sunrise. I couldn't have slept very long at all, hardly even minutes. As I turned my puffy pink gaze to Aris, I glared. I was still angry with his lack of sympathy for me. I wanted to be alone. If he wanted to talk and be more uncaring, I was just going to sleep on the couch.

Standing from the edge of the bed, I reach to grab a pillow. "Noire!" Aris shouts furiously. My eyes snap open staring at him. What stick got shoved up his ass and out of his mouth?

Gently, I breathe in through a sore throat. "Aris?"

"We have to go." He reaches for my elbow, but I stumble out of reach.

"Where are we going?" He snatches me roughly this time, mumbling 'no time'. I attempt to reel back, sock covered heels digging into the maple finished floors to no avail. "I'm not dressed, Aris!"

He whirls around, eyes golden and startling me. "There's no time, Noire!"

I glance down at my dotted legs like the cold, bare skin of a chicken. I'd changed from the lumpy red dress into more cozy clothes. Black shorts rode up my thighs, covered by an over sized, unflattering hoody. I couldn't dream of Aris taking me outside unpresentable. I had just woken up. My hair was probably a mess, my teeth unbrushed, and my humanly flawed skin exposed without make up. Where his fingers touched my arm, they should have warmed me with thoughts of Aris's love, that he didn't mind how I looked. Yet his knuckles turned white with wrath, and I knew he wasn't really seeing me or even what I wore.

"Okay," I complied with a slight wince. I step closer to Aris, keeping up with his strides in an attempt to lessen his boiling hold on my elbow. "We'll go."

He doesn't waste an extra second as he rushes me down the stairs, practically flying to his SUV parked in the driveway. I was surprised to find no paparazzi outside. Surely from Zac's death they would study and sell pictures of my tears to the press.

Aris ushers me into the passenger seat, protectively and weirdly pushing in my seat belt for me. My hands just skim his hair as he slams the door shut. My legs relish the warmth from the early hours cold, and I pull my knees up and under the large sweater. It's one of his, I realize. When he went to college, because I never did. He slams himself into the drivers seat, ignoring his own seat belt.

He dims the headlights, speeding from the driveway. My head hurts. My arm stings with physical memories. We just left the house in twenty seconds, and I don't even have shoes on. I don't know where we are going, but it's not in the direction of our village.

"Aris, where are we going?" He doesn't reply. "Aris?"

"Shut up!" He snaps harshly, steering wheel strangled under his wrath. "I need silence to think!"

So I do. I'm quiet. The clock reads quarter before four in the morning. The radio isn't on. I feel sick. My head lowers to my knees, breathing in the scent of Aris's sweater. Was he nice when he was young? Or was he always so stubborn and unhappy?

No, I correct myself. He's just as stressed as I am, probably more. "Aris," I lift my head after some time, calling his name softly. "What's wrong?"

He is driving far past the speed limit, and I am thankful for the early hour. On the curves of the road he veers into the opposing lane, and I strangle my anxiety with suppressed lips.

His left leg taps without pattern. "I'm sorry. Just go to sleep, I know you haven't slept at all tonight."

I fight back the roll of my eyes. "Please tell me where we are going."