Learning To Love Him

Seven

Nora's POV
I don't know how to explain the empty ora that is inside my house. Dad's absence is reinforced by  the quiet kitchen in the mornings, I miss him being late everyday. I miss that goofball face he'd have when he'd run out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth. I still find it hard to believe he's gone. I can still smell his cologne in the bathroom and his clothes still hang in the closet. Every part of him is here but he is not.

I don't tell mum about the incident I had where Isaac saved me. She doesn't need the stress. It's been three days since dad's death and today is the funeral, I can't say I'm ready for people to say sorry to me. I don't want condolences, I don't want people to feel sorry for me.

I pull on a black lace dress, it has long see-through lace sleeves and goes down to just above my knees. I add some black heels and leave my hair down. I stare at the girl in the mirror before me, I see the sadness in her eyes, that girl is me.

Today is going to be a hard day, one that I don't entirely know whether I can survive. The hot Californian sun blazes on as if nothing has changed.

At the church flowers line every surface and the photo of dad brings tears to my eyes. I listen to various eulogies from numerous people I don't even know. All of it seems so far away and I am waiting to wake up from this nightmare. As the coffin lowers tears flood my face and I yearn for one last glimpse, one last moment and one last hug. I don't speak to anyone after that I just leave and go straight home, I'd rather skip the meet and greet of people I don't even know. Mum will understand.

'Life was sweeter than fiction' I write in my diary. 'But now it's all just a huge mess. I don't know how get past the grief and the sorrow. How can I face school in the midst of such tragedy? How can I face anyone? I am merely a broken soul lost and forever damaged.'

I slam the diary, and throw it at the wall. It hits with a loud thud and falls to the floor. When did I become such a negative person? So I lost my dad three days ago, at least I didn't get sexually assaulted on the same day! Come on optimism!

So I need a distraction from the depressing family situation. What better distraction could possibly exist other than Isaac Eastern himself. The guy was a locked box, secrets hide in his every shadow, word and movement. Still I am unable to read him, I'm not psychic but picking the nice people has always been like a sixth sense to me. Isaac on the other hand is not easy to read.

While contemplating Isaac, the doorbell goes but I do not even attempt to move. What kind of soulless, empathy lacking imbecile would annoy a mourning family on the night of the funeral?

There's light knock on my door. "Can't I mourn for one night!" I demand.

"I'll take that as a come in." He strolls in wearing a tuxedo, tie hanging loosely knotted around his neck and bunch of tulips in his bruised right hand.

"What are you doing here? Here to make me fear you." I ask quietly.

"Can't a guy do a nice thing once in a while?"

"Not guys like you." I say groggily.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"You're a fuckboy."

"If this were any other circumstance I would beat you until you apologised for that comment." He says in his dark scary voice.

"You wouldn't lay a hand on me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Let's just say you wouldn't want to."

"Look I'm not here to argue with you god dammit. I'm here to make you feel batter." He shoves the tulips at me.

"Thanks how'd you know that I like these?"

"Victoria said that you hated anything that everyone else obsesses over. She said red roses in particular. She might have hinted at tulips while stabbing me with her pissed off and lazer-like gaze."

Despite everything I laugh. It feels odd and inappropriate to laugh in such a time of tragedy. I laugh for a moment until I realise he's standing looking around my room curiously.

"Girls rooms are private you know."

"I would say more fascinating than private."

"How's the hand?" I change the subject quickly.

Isaac looks down at his right hand, flexing it in and out of a fist a few times. "Still hurts like hell but that guys face would hurt more right now."

His eyes float to my diary which is still lying in a heap on the floor. He walks toward it and picks it up but to my surprise he closes and hands it to me without even glancing at it's contents.

"Had the feeling you were a writer." He says finally returning his gaze to me.

"It's private."

"Everything's private with you. I should be going."

"Why got someplace else you have to be?"

"No but I don't want to be here."

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Isaac's POV
If she ever mentions me taking her flowers I'll say mum made me do it. What does she do to me? She threatens my very existence with her sweet smiles and giggles. However, she threatens her own with her comment about me being a man whore. Curse me for I cannot hurt her. I cannot raise a a hand to her beautiful face. What has she done to me?

As I stand in her room I take in every little piece of it. Photos on the walls,  many of them have Victoria and those twins in them. Can't say I like the twins. The faded wallpaper peeling in some places and as my eyes track the room, a book lying on the floor carelessly thrown there catches my eye. She writes her feelings in it so very typical of a teenage girl. As much as I want to read it I dare not especially because she is right there. I can feel that every moment I spend in her presence makes me weaker. So in the true Isaac way I make her feel like nothing to me. I tell her I don't want to be here with her and I leave.

She is making me contradict myself and my ways. That I do not like. I am so used to living my way and getting the things I want by force. She lives in an entirely different world to me, she's living in rainbows and unicorns. I'm living with demons and darkness and a forever burning fire inside me. Yet I like my ways but still I cannot resist the feelings I have toward change. Nora likes the way that Jayden guy stands up for her in that self righteous and protective way. I want her to like me. I'm not self righteous but I am protective. I am protective of her, my cards are on the table and I want her. I just don't know how to get past my dominant ways, my need for people to fear me. My need for people to hate me. It is all I have ever known and all I have ever been taught.

For that you can thank my drunk father. Parenting 101 right there. I don't know whether to hate him or envy him.