UNPROTECTED

Part Eleven

Connor's POV

I couldn't get Alina's head out of my face - the dread and darkness of a gruesome memory.

I was slouched in the corridor, tears trickling down my sullen cheeks - the most uncool look ever. "Hey, stranger? What's up?" It was Saint Delia.

Placing a gentle hand on my hunched shoulders, my eyes were drawn to be bruises littering her skin. Grabbing her hand, I replied. "What happened to you in there?"

"You're avoiding my question. What's the matter, Connor?" Her eyebrows were creased in anxiety.

"And you're avoiding mine. What happened, Delia?" I made sure I put extra emphasis on her name.

"The wolves are never gentle when they see a piece of meat that they want. Now, what's up?" She sat down beside me, on the concrete floor.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It's just.....oh, it doesn't matter." A confused look crossed her doll-like features. Delia looked so much like Alina except with different colored hair - their nature was different, though: Delia was nurturing and soft and kind whilst Alina was fierce and feisty and stubborn.

The look Delia had given me turned on a switch inside of me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her; she seemed too fragile to not be noticed. "Connor, you can tell me." And I felt that I could.

When I was with her, everything seemed fine and dandy, like she was a shield for all things bad. She was the dove in the middle of a battlefield. I felt like I could trust her with my innermost thoughts and feelings.

Feeling shaky, I leant forward so that we were millimeters apart, our noses almost touching. I could feel the warmth of her breath on me and her eyes bore into mine, in confusion. Before either of us could react, our lips touched, sending a spark of electricity down my spine, tingling and intertwining with everything in my nervous system.

But something was missing.

Harshly, Delia shoved me backwards, looking angry and yet, still seeming calm. Shaking her head, her eyebrows and face relaxed, "You're lying to yourself. I'm not the one you love - not truly. You know who you want, inside. You just need to tell your brain who that someone is." Her hand touched my chest and she got up to leave.

"Hey, Delia? I'm sorry." I apologised, for I knew, deep down that, perhaps, she was right.

"It's fine - just so long as you take it in and listen to your heart and not your stupid head!" Smirking, she left me alone.

As if the kiss had taught me something - which I thought it had - I suddenly realised what was missing.

Flare.