Octagon Project 3: Zachary McHall

~-5-~

The drive was slow and easy as the officer had promised. They arrived at a smaller, more simple hotel than the one they had stayed in with the Octagon. The exterior was made to look rough and bumpy but was painted a gentle soft beige. The ground on the inside of the lobby was dark hardwood flooring with odd-looking beige and brown couches off to one side. Mel observed their new surroundings as the officer went up to the front desk and spoke to the dark man that sat there with a bored expression. Much like the first hotel, this one had large floor to ceiling windows that were draped with open white curtains giving a view of the parking lot. Security cameras sat in every corner of the rectangular room along with one right above the automatic sliding entrance doors.

"Mel," Zack said softly, touching her shoulder as the officer waited to show them to their room. They were on the second floor at the back of the building where the windows and tiny balcony overlooked the level of the first roof that extended beyond the width of the other two levels. Satellite dishes and electricity wires poked up and hovered over the silver metal of the rooftop, making it a rather odd thing to have a view off.

"Some more officers will come by later with all your things."

"Thank you so much sir." Zack replied, slowly closing the door after the officer as he left. Sighing, he slowly turned to Mel that stood, staring out of the large window of the balcony with her arms wrapped around her sides. "Are you okay?" He asked, crossing his arms and coming up next to her.

"I've been trained to handle a lot more than a car accident, Zack." She exhaled, turning to one of the twin-sized beds and pulling off her filthy shirt. Zack stared at her scarred back as she dumped her shirt on the ground. All she can ever refer to is what she is trained for and neglect her emotions. Releasing a heavy breath, Zack quietly made his way over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She froze at his sudden touch.

"I never asked what you were trained to handle," Zack said softly, entwining his fingers with hers as he rested his head on her shoulder. "I want to know how you are doing." In one swift movement, Mel elbowed Zack's side and slipped away from him towards the wooden door to the bathroom. "You can't keep hiding from your emotions, Mel." He grumbled, leaning on the bed with one arm while holding where he was hit with the other. She glared at him with furious green eyes.

"You don't get to talk to me about emotions Zack." She spat. "I've never seen you express anything but an occasional smile."

"Then maybe you should have been more present the day I thought I lost you." He snapped back. "For the first time in my life Melody, that was the first time in my life that I ever cried. You're always trying to act like you don't feel anything. Like you can never get hurt. But the you that I saw in that warehouse when we were alone proved otherwise."

"It was the first time I saw you in a year, I was vulnerable and stupidly let my guard down." She justified with clenched teeth.

"Stupidly? How far will you shove everything until you go completely mad?! You always said that you're afraid of becoming some monster that McHall was forcing you to turn into. Well we're away from McHall now, but you still push yourself. You are the one turning yourself into the very thing you're afraid of Mel. But you won't let me help you stop it."

"I don't need help!" Mel cried, throwing her pocket knife with perfect accuracy directly towards Zack's chest. He caught the handle without even breaking eye contact with her. His blue eyes narrowed.

"You want to stop the Octagon but you can't even control yourself." Zack's jaw ticked as he tossed the pocket knife to the floor and shut his eyes momentarily. "You're not ready."

"Not ready for what Zack?" Mel crossed her arms. "Because sometimes you act like you suddenly know a whole lot more than me when I was informed by the actual daughter of the T.A.O. Octagon branch on the entire layout." Zack chuckled wryly, shaking his head, and turning to toss his jacket onto one of the beds.