Octavia (Completed - 2018 Watty's Longlist)

Chapter Fourteen Edmund

The ringing of my ears wakes me from my deep, unconscious sleep. My eyes are heavy as I try to open them, though the blurriness from before still remains. My eyes open to darkness, however a bright light burns through the unknown. The anxious feeling that I wait to feel doesn't appear as my surroundings don't feel unfamiliar. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to my new surroundings, but when they do I recognise the bright light to be a dashboard. I go to move but an icy, iron grip around my wrist prevents me from moving.

"Don't move." Her sweet voice orders through the darkness of the car. Her voice instantly makes me feel safe. It's like I've known her my whole life instead of only a few months. It's crazy how just the sound of her voice could make me feel safer than any well trained body guard could. Okay, bad comparison but you get the point?
I turn my head in the direction of her voice. My eyes adjust to the darkness and within seconds I can just make out the outline of her figure.
"Octavia?" I croak gruffly, softly in almost a whisper from my unused, raspy voice. It hurts to speak, my throat is dry and scratchy. My eyes search for her in the dim light, trying to show that part of me that feels as though I'm making all of this up and she isn't actually here, that this is real.
"Are you all right?" She asks me, making me smile cheerfully though it hurts and my smile shortly falls. Even though I can't see her, I can feel her worrying eyes on my face. Her face. Her beautiful face. Her face that I yearn to see despite anything else that I could possibly wish for. If I could only just see her everything would be okay.

As I sit here, nothing seems to be in pain that I know of. Anxiety races through me that something terrible has happened and I go to move my legs when a strong hold on my thigh forces me not to move. "Don't move." Her sweet voice repeats. "You could be seriously injured and I don't want you to put any pressure on anything."
"What happened?" I ask, searching my brain for the memories of before. It was clear on what happened, but my memory is still blurry. I remember these guys coming up from behind me and knocking me to the ground. I remember the pain when my head hit something hard, which caused me to black out. Everything from that point forward is unclear.
"You were attacked." Her voice is as cold as ice and I force myself not to shiver at the tone of her voice. "I saw what they did. . ." She stops herself, taking in deep breaths to compose herself. "Let's just say that I handled them."

I sit there in silence, trying to think of what she meant when she said she 'handled them'. A sharp pain in my temple reminds me of when they attacked me and I hit my head. I let out a low wince, hoping that she didn't hear. But who am I kidding? It's dead silent in her car, you could probably hear a pin drop.

"Edmund?" She asks in concern. I feel her lean closer to me, her cool hand placed lightly on my cheek. Despite her coldness, her skin burns against mine.
"I'm fine." I lie. Her scrutinising eyes watch me carefully and she sighs angrily.
"I'm taking you home." She informs me, making it sound like there was no room for arguments. Then I panicked when I realised what home meant. I couldn't go home, not looking like this. Then again, I don't even know what I look like. But it's got to look pretty bad, right? Jamie can't see me like this. He'll freak! He'll interrogate everyone in the whole town to find whoever is responsible. What a nightmare that would be.
"No, you're not." I disagree immediately. She looks over at me, her expression hard. "Jamie can't see me like this." I explain. Her face softens and she leans her arm over to me, gesturing for me to give her something. I look at her, confused.
"Phone." She orders.
"Why?" I ask, obediently grabbing my phone from my pocket, surprised to see it unscathed.
"Well, Jamie needs to be informed why you'll be arriving home late." She offered simply. "And he needs a believable excuse otherwise he'll send a search party after you." I hand my phone over to her, disappointed and a little shocked that she knew my password. I do have to say myself, my password isn't the most difficult thing in the world to guess. Her fingers fly across the screen, typing, then hands it back to me before I can ask what she's written. Her eyes look at me expectantly, waiting for me to read what she wrote.