Out of the Darkness (v2.0)

Chapter Eight

Though the previous few days were pitiful ones, what was even more unbelievable than the pain she'd gone through was the idea that Ellanor was going to be away from home for not just a few hours, but a full week. That was more than she could ever ask for.

When she'd found herself packing up for good measure, Ellanor could only think of when she watched that woman do the same from the doorway, yet she didn't see this as an ending, but the beginning of her escape. In time, maybe she'd be able to go on even more business trips, and Dallas would get used to her absence and finally be able to 'live' without her. Or maybe he'd just drift off, up and away, and no matter how morbid it was or how reluctant she was to act upon it, deep in Ellanor's soul was the urge to see Dallas in as much pain as she had been.

No. Stop. Don't think like that. You'd be no better.

But deep down, she also knew that there was a fine line between vengeance and justice.

Ellanor stood on her tippy toes (what a childish phrase) as she shoved her duffle bag away into the overhead compartment. Other than the one time she visited New Zealand as a child -- she barely remembered anyways -- Ellanor had never been on a plane. It was a fair hassle trying to put away all her belongings, and the additional time of going through all the security. She just wished that the same kind of tight security was possible for her entire life. Even with the restriction of having people watch you 24/7, hopefully those people were good people, not a random friend-turned-stranger, who knew that authority for safety and leadership. For peace of mind. Not abuse of power.

Despite Elijah being such a well known, rich businessman, he didn't make much of an effort to arrange for those private jets with fancy, hotel-like interiors larger than the average house, nor the first class plane seats that were not just seats, but entire personal cubicles with a bed and television. When she asked about how 'extra' the commodities would be, he gave her a funny look that made her feel rather stupid. "You've been watching too much TV," he said flatly, and that was the end of things.

Quite the opposite had happened to what she had expected: Elijah had chosen simple business class seats. Nothing more, but nothing less. Maybe it was to avoid the people who would criticize his wealth, or to be more sociable, but haters will be haters, and Elijah proved to be an introvert.

Once Ellanor was done, she shuffled along like nobody's business as people shoved past her to get to their rows. She'd somehow lost the tall and well-built -- did she call him well built? No, that was just to exaggerate how helpless she was -- Elijah Valex and only had her seat number as a reference to where he could be. She wondered if he was looking for her, too, but then again, her hair would make her easy to spot. It was practically a torch in the middle of a black, grey, brown and dark green sea, the sore thumb that stuck out when hands curled into fists.

Was Elijah looking for her at all?

... No. No. He probably wasn't.

Yet being lost was a lot, lot better than being found by Dallas.

Ellanor felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise when someone pat their hand against her back in a weirdly comforting way. Her eyes turned cold, frozen in place, and her breath hitched deep in her throat like she'd been forced to swallow a lie. Only a second later did she whip around to find Elijah standing there, his hand still raised and where her back had once been.