Storm 》Clifford A.U

031;

     I FELT A DEEP ache in my chest, one that felt like it might never go away. I lost track of how long I had been crying. It had been hours, at least, but I was uncertain of how many. My fingers were stained black from wiping at my smeared mascara and I could barely breathe. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that my Papa would have been capable of horrible, awful things. Of hurting his own daughter. 

      When I left Ashton's dorm, I had my heart set on going to Michael. But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had already been vulnerable around him countless times, I didn't exactly want to add another to the list. That, and, I thought it was probably a good idea to be alone with my thoughts for a while. Eventually, I ended up in the art wing. I ended up where Ivy and Darya used to go together. The woman who held onto the spare key must have taken pity on me, she must have seen my tear stained cheeks and decided that I was harmless because she let me in, and I had been sitting on one of my sister's beanbags for God knows how long now. Or maybe the woman was just the worst "guard" ever since all it took to let us in last time was a bit of flirting from Michael. 

      I am in the middle of running my hands along one of Ivy's many drawings of Darya when the door creeks open and behind it is the emerald eyed, lilac haired boy I had wanted to run to earlier. 

      "Al," Michael says softly, shutting the door and quickly running over to me. He wipes a fallen tear off of my cheek and I crumble all over again, shoulders shaking as the sobs rack through my body. He squats down and pulls me into him, squeezing tightly and enveloping me in his scent. "Ashton texted me and told me what happened...I figured you might come here."

      I let myself get wrapped up in his arms and for half a second I feel okay. And then I hate myself for it. I had no right to feel okay. Not while my sister was out there, hurt or maybe even worse. Not when I just ran away from the only person who might know what happened to her because I was too afraid of the truth. Too afraid that Papa was involved.

      "They..." I breathe, trying to will myself to stop shaking. "They think that my dad had something to do with Darya going missing." I pull away from him just enough to look into his eyes. He just stares back at me, silent. Did he think it too?

      I didn't want to believe it, but maybe there was some truth behind it. Maybe that's why he was throwing himself into his work. Maybe that's the reason he was barely ever home anymore. Work was his escape. It kept him away, it kept him from seeing his wife withering away and his daughter falling apart because he was responsible for them losing what they loved the most. Could it...could it be true?

       "They don't know anything for sure. But we need to go back. We need to talk to Ashton and get Olivia to tell us anything else she knows." While his mouth said one thing, his face was saying another. He seemed pretty confident that they were right. We were running out of time and we both knew it. "And I think you should probably stop avoiding the conversation we need to have." I pull away from his embrace and stand up from the bean bag, immediately wanting to distance myself from him.

     "What...what conversation?" I say, feeling delirious. 

      "The reason you're so back and forth with me. The reason all of a sudden you wanna push me away." He looks like he's thinking hard about the next thing to come out of his mouth. And that's probably a good idea, too. Because if he said anything remotely stupid, I wouldn't hesitate to make him pay for it. "The reason you said you wanna stop fucking."

      "Of course this is about sex-" I roll my eyes, turning away from him.

      "Stop deflecting. It's not about sex. It's about why you feel the need to pull away from me as much as you can, including sex." He sounds so matter of fact. He thinks he knows me. He thinks he knows everything. I almost forgot how arrogant he could be.