A Secret Vow

19 Tears

Litten by the candle, I watch Edmund slowly close the door. Staring at it's nob, deep in thought, scratching his ear.

Scratching it's sudden annoying itch.

I take the opportunity to cover ever inch of my body with sheets. Hiding my white canvas, searching for my scrambled brushes and paints in my mind.

I haven't painted my face yet. I have to prepare for the unknown.

Feeling the warm fabric on my forehead, I gather my thoughts. I pull the sheets down to my chin and peek. I watch him steadily walk.

My eyes follow the candles hot wax as it drips off his hand.

Unnoticed.

Eyes fully open. I watch him closely.

Edmund, who has covered his upper lip with his index finger and cupped his stubbled chin with his thump, is pacing around the room. His opposite hand - gripping the candle holder close to him.

He stops at the third pace and begins to walk toward me. But not at me.

"Darling..." I stuttered

"STOP!" He yelled as he pointed at me.

I jerk back and hit my head against the wooden bed frame.

"I HAVE TO. I HAVE TO CLEAR MY MIND" he yelled once more.

He knows.

He knows.

He knows.

I felt something wet on my hand and looked down. Blood. I then noticed that I've been starching my left arm this whole time. Dripping my blood on the white sheets. Staining their purity with my dirtiness.

He suddenly made a turn toward the opposite half of my bed. Walking slow.

Sitting down, crossing his legs. Releasing his free hand on the beds fine material. Sitting close to me, but not close enough to say he was beside me.

Nervous, I clutch the beds sheets and bring my knees close to my chest.

He stared at the ground for a few seconds and turned his cheek slowly to the pillow beside me. The candles light gave Edmund a scary shadow.

I gulp.

Eyes wide as the sun.

Lips shut as a clam.

He turns to me. Showing me his sad brown eyes.

I twitch my lower lip.

"Lilium" he mumbles.

I pull myself up with my elbows and feel my thin hair puff. The sheets slide passed my breasts onto my curved belly button.

I begin to paint on my pimpled canvas.

"What's the matter..." I hesitantly asked.

Erh.

"...darling?" I forced.

Edmund looks down and fiddles with the fabrics stitches. Like a child embarrassed by their curiosity. Shy to ask certain questions that have been wondering around his mind, knocking on his skull and hoping for an answer.

He faces me.

"It can't be" he weakly laughed.

My eyes wide as the moon.

Lips dry as the earth.

I flick my eyelashes down.

I feel my drenched face.