Fallen From Grace (#Wattys2017)

Chapter XIII

Eleanora spent the remainder of the night seated on her bedroom floor, keeping a watchful eye on Apollyon through out the time he slept. He remained relatively still, and gave a cute-almost soundless-little snore every now and then. She checked his temperature every few hours to find out if he has a fever or not. So far, so good.

Eleanora glanced down at her phone for the first time that night and was surprised to see the time displayed as 5:18 a.m.

Her legs were aching for a run, hell, her entire being was craving fresh air. Eleanora wasn't sure if she should leave him alone like this, but she needed to get out and clear her mind for half an hour, at least. Finally, she decided to get changed, realizing that she was still in the bloodied clothes from prior.

Having changed into her running attire, she left Apollyon a note in case he woke up before her return. Locking the door behind her, she made her way down the stairs and out the complex. Breathing in the crisp late October air, she allowed her lungs the luxury of inhaling cool fresh oxygen.

She slowly started her way down the sidewalk, picking up the pace to a comfortable jog. She pushed herself a little, going at a fast pace, and allowing her mind to become blank for the remainder of her run. After half an hour, her legs automatically took a u-turn, as they were accustomed to the run and when to turn back. She continued her jogging pace until she was a block away from the complex.

Slowing down to a walk, she tried to regain her breathing as the run did her good, it decluttered her mind and gave her thinking space. Exhaling heavily into the morning air, she made her way inside the complex and up the stairs.

She entered silently, and with light footsteps made way towards her bedroom. Apollyon was still asleep, good sign. Sighing lightly, she made her way into her washroom, and took a nice warm shower to relax her aching muscles. Changing into a pair of warm trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, she made her way outside to pick out a sweater from her wardrobe.

As she stood in front of the open closet, she unconsciously pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. Standing with her hands on her hips, she was just about to pick out a sweater when warm calloused fingers coiled around her wrist. Surprised, she turned around, finding Apollyon seated on the edge of the bed as he brought her arm to him. He silently looked down at the milky skin as he traced every pale scar littering her arm.

Eleanora sucked in a shocked breath as her body was trembling slightly, fear igniting her mind that he would find her weak and disgusting. Looking away, she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she could feel his warm fingers trace every line on her arm.

Why was he intrigued by her weakness?

Tugging her forward, he forced her to turn towards him as he grabbed hold of the other arm, tracing every scar on that one as well.

He sat silently as Eleanora's stomach clenched uncomfortably, she tried to pull her arm away, but he'd simply make a disgruntled sound, telling her to stop. Once he traced every single line with intense fascination, he put her arms together, looking at them with curiosity.

"Shooting stars." He spoke huskily. "Your scars aren't scars. They look like shooting stars. Going in all sorts of directions and bright against the night sky."

"I like them." He informed her with a genuine smile. "Now we have something in common: scars."  

Eleanora pulled her hand away from him as she wiped away the stray tears that had leaked down her eyes.

"Apollyon." She sniffled while wiping them away. "What happened last night?"

His smile drooped as he looked down at their feet a few inches apart. He seemed slightly hesitant to say anything as he wouldn't meet her gaze.