The Witch's Toy ✔

7: avoiding the issue

I didn't question Raphael's ability to take us home in a split-second. Right when my feet touched the carpet of my room, I unwrapped my arms around his neck and went to my closet wordlessly. After pulling out some clean clothes, I left for the bathroom. I could feel his eyes on me and the way they burned into my back like he already knew what was happening to me at school, but I didn't confirm. I just needed a shower to get everything off my chest.

Shedding my uniform, I stepped into the shower and cranked it all the way to cold. I let the frigid water rain over heated skin, taking the warmth away and replacing it with what felt like blocks of ice. My pendant froze against my chest, almost so cold it felt like fire burned my skin. A fissure started at my trembling lips, threatening to crack my calm façade in half, but I sealed it. It was almost as if the water had frozen it with its own icy touch.

After what seemed like a million years, my blue fingertips turned the water off. I shivered as the air chilled my skin even more, but I welcomed it. Bearing this was easier than dealing with other things.

Not bothering to towel-dry my hair, I tugged on fresh clothes and emerged from the bathroom to find Raphael standing right in front of me. My heart leaped to my throat, seeing him there, as my head tilted up to level my gaze with his unreadable one.

"Yu Rui."

It wasn't a statement or question. It was more so to try and coax something from me — to perhaps make me break down in front of him or blurt out what was on my mind.

But I didn't let myself cave into his silent request. I just stepped to the side and proceeded to my bedroom, meaning to sit on my bed and cocoon myself in thick blankets and lose myself to the immediate warmth it would give me. It was almost like being wrapped up in someone's arms — like being given some sort of affection, and this — this was why I always took cold showers when I was upset.

Even with my mother away and both my father and grandmother gone, it would still feel like there was someone who could hold me. That was what I wanted, at least, even if it wasn't real. Even if it was just me lying to myself over and over again.

I wanted to be alone, to silently mill through my thoughts and feelings before burying them. But knowing Raphael — even for the mere few days we spent together — he wouldn't grant me this one wish.

Before I could even step foot into my bedroom, he marched right past me, towel in hand and plopped down onto my bed. There was a simmering anger in his eyes as he motioned me forward to him.

I hesitated, swallowing. I already knew he had a way of making me tell him things I would rather not tell anyone. My hand came up to my pendant, absentmindedly fiddling with the thin gold chain that circled around my neck loosely.

When I didn't make any move to go to him, he sighed, fingers weaving through his dark hair in annoyance. Impatience. "Darling..." There was a warning in his voice. Obviously, if I didn't comply with him, he wouldn't mind stalking over, grabbing my arm, and dragging me to the edge of the bed himself.

Pursing my lips, I did what he wanted me to do, stopping to stand before him.

He took my wrist, pulling me closer so that I stood between his legs. Where his fingers touched my skin, it burned, leaving only heat behind. For some reason, I blushed furiously at this, looking away when I knew he saw my flushed cheeks. I knew I couldn't hide it, but I tried nevertheless.

His fingers came up, grazing the heated spots on my face as a soft laugh reverberated through the air. Before he could see my skin grow redder at this, he threw the towel over my head, gently patting the wet strands of my hair dry.