Chapter 17

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A single drop of tear slides down my cheek as I close my eyes, unwilling to look any longer into those cold, hard, unflinching eyes which scream 'traitor'.

He did not believe me.

I failed.

The metal feels cold on my forehead as I ignore the dull, throbbing pain in my skull and wrists.

There is a small click and a loud bang resonates in the room.

I feel numb for a second, before everything explodes in searing pain for a few inhuman seconds.

Then there is nothing.


















Gotcha.
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I jerked up in my bed, cold yet sweating and topple off onto the hard floor with a thud, the blanket weirdly entangled all around me. Normally I would have simply cursed and picked myself up from the floor, but the strangely vivid nightmare I had makes me want to curl up in my blanket and have a good cry.

Shut up, Lilly. You know he believes you. No need to have nightmares about it. Don't be silly now-

I looked up at the noise of the door opening and Mr. Ambrose stepped in, his eyes on me and I had to look away because they reminded me of my nightmare.

Stop crying!

I'm not! That...that's just sweat..okay? Yeah.

I quickly started disentangling the blanket from around me, ignoring the throbbing of my head and slight dizziness when I felt his strong presence, kneeling down near me, his sharp gaze on me. Subtly wiping away the sweat with the sleeves of his shirt, I fixed a small smile on my face and turned to him.

"Good morning, Mr. Ambrose." I cleared my throat, trying to swallow the lump stubbornly lazing around in my throat. "Nice day, isn't it?"

There was absolute silence for another minute as I kept my eyes on his eleven-year-old-still-in-mint condition tailcoat, looking unusually crumpled and I nearly jumped when he spoke suddenly.

"No." His cold voice sounded unusually...not so cold. "Look at me."

His long fingers firmly tilted my chin till I was looking straight into his sea coloured eyes, burning with a cold fire.

Don't think about it, don't...

Another drop of warm liquid slipped out of my eye as I hurried to wipe it away with my sleeve. Stupid eye, stupid me, stupid nightmare, stupid everything! Bloody hell, stop crying!

"Are-Are you...crying?" His voice sounded low and...panicked as he hesitantly pulled me close to him, wiping another stray drop from my face with his hand. I leaned on him, my head resting on his shoulder, and for once, my inner feminist didn't object to how I was behaving like a bloody damsel in distress, mostly because I didn't want to let it. Just this one time.

"No." I sniffed, ignoring the absolute contradiction right there as I wriggled out of his tight grip, refusing to look at him anymore. "It is just sweat. I'll change my clothes and get to work, Mr. Ambrose."

I nearly stumbled right back on him when he pulled me back there, this time with a death grip, the dizziness returning to some extent and I closed my eyes.

"No. You're not 'getting to work' until you give me an adequate reply. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying now, okay, Mr. Ambrose? Now can I go?" I opened my eyes to look...extremely closely into his sea green and blue eyes, a dangerous storm of undecipherable emotions brewing in there.

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