f e v e r

chapter V - the truth

After changing clothes she stepped out of the bathroom. Looking around she found the place to be decorated in many pieces of art and even the other side of the platform there seemed to be a place set up with a desk and painting easel. It didn't surprise her, he was an art teacher after all.

Her eyes then drifted over to Julian. His back was turned to her as he removed his shirt and then found herself looking away with warm cheeks, "I left my clothes on the sink," she said in an attempt to calm her racing heart.

He turned to her, "I'll get them later then, and also you can sleep in the bed. I don't mind crashing on the couch."

Violet looked back over to him giving him a kind smile, "I can easily sleep on the couch myself Mr. Monroe."

He looked at her with a raised a brow crossing the room over to her, "We're not at school, so please, just call me Julian."

Violet found herself feeling very small next to him. He towered over her. Then she felt a gentle touch under her chin tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Is this why you didn't want to go back home?" she knew what he was looking at.

There on the left side of her face bruising had began to mark her cheekbone. She saw the darkening of discoloration of her skin when she was in the bathroom.

"Like I said, it's a long story."

Julian studied her, dropping his hand back to his side, "I hate to pry but what exactly happened?"

Violet took a deep breath, walking past him to take a seat on the couch, "Might as well sit down for this."

So he did. He sat beside her there on the couch as she told the story of her father, the businessman. How he never comes home except on Friday nights because Saturday is his day off. She went on to him coming home drunk every time, always becoming violent over something.

"So there you have it, the truth," Violet's voice was hushed as she spoke.

He looked at her, surprised at what he had just heard. He didn't expect her to really tell him. If anything he expected a shake of the head and hearing "I rather not talk about it".

"I'm so sorry," was the only words he could find to say.

She shrugged her shoulders, "It's not your fault so don't say you're sorry."

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It's 1:30 a.m. and yes I am publishing the fifth chapter to Fever right now. Please excuse any mistakes here like said it's already past one in the morning.

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