The Fault in Our Infinities

Chapter 18: Elation and Lust

As I sit in a chair, the late afternoon sun burning through the glass windows of the hotel, I take the opportunity to admire Augustus Waters.

He stands off to the side of the dais, a ray of sunlight shining through the glass to light his mahogany hair to a soft brown. He's dressed in a black and white suit, a cream rose in his right pocket. A burgundy tie cuts through his pristine shirt – one of the colours of the wedding. He plays with his sleeves nervously as though he is the one getting married. But when I see him glance at his parents, I know he is only anxious for them, though I have no idea why. Mr. Waters and his fiancée are truly head over heels for each other, sharing a love I can only be envious of.

Next to me, Mum coos as she admires her surroundings, despite being the one to help set up, complimenting the cream sashes of silk as they harmonise the crossing burgundy ones. Each chair is dressed in the same deep red garments, dressed with cream bouquets and ribbons. The lights are dim, but not shaded, the massive golden chandelier sparkling over the dais, where Augustus' parents will speak their vows.

It's beautiful but in a sad way. It only serves as a reminder, for me, that I will never have this. I will never have this limitless, unending happiness. I will never have someone love me so much that they want to marry me, never have someone wait at the end of the aisle for me. I will most probably never marry at all.

Augustus glances up at his father and their share a few words. Gus slaps a hand over his dad's shoulder and in response, Mr. Waters touches Augustus' neck, his thumb tracing his son's jaw bone. Dad looks at me like this often. It's the unconditional love a parent has for his child. It's tangible and exquisite. Augustus' blue eyes seem brighter, filmed with moisture as he stares at his dad. It is one of those moments where I truly get to see pure Augustus, untainted by his own sarcasm or witty arrogance. It's Augustus showing the love he has for his parents, innocent and chaste.

I hear a low chuckle behind me and I turn around.

Zac Waters sits behind me, his fingers splayed over the back of my chair, almost possessively. He meets my gaze and smirks, a slow, predatory leer. His grey eyes flare cunningly and I swallow.

"Hazel Grace Lancaster." He nods and his voice is a purr of pretended charm, of false affection. I know what he is doing; he is putting on a sham act of charisma for my mother who listen in, though she pretends she doesn't.

"This is my chair." It's all I can think to say in the fear that shoots through me at the sight of him. I feel uneasy and uncomfortable, especially with my mum nearby. "So," I swallow. "If you would..." I wave my hands at him, motioning for him to sit back. His lifts his hands up, adopting an innocent expression.

"Of course." He murmurs, the stupid smirk still on his face.

I turn back around, trying to ignore the prickles of fear that shiver down my spine.

It isn't long before his voice is in my ear, and his breath is hot against my cheek. "Look at him," He says, his eyes on Augustus. "Bless the sweet, little boy; crying over his parents' wedding. So cute."

I grit my teeth, trying to pretend as though his slow, mocking voice doesn't irritate – and scare - me. "Augustus is twice the man you are." I hiss.

"So you say." He sneers. "I disagree."

"I never asked your opinion." I turn to face the front again.

Augustus and his father share another short conversation and Gus nods reassuringly, his smile kind. The music begins and his father takes up his position, his back to the aisle, his eyes on the vicar before him. In the moment before his mother enters, Augustus' eyes flicker up to meet mine and I see a ghost of a smile wind at his lips before his gaze slips over my shoulder and he scowls, the blue in his eyes darkening to almost black as his face clouds with anger.