FREAKS || Jerome Valeska¹

23 || Fate

A couple of days passed after the whole incident at the gala. Nothing had changed; I was in pain, and time moved on, the world went on uncaring about my existence. It annoyed me, but I tried my best.

Edward had ordered me not to speak to prevent irritation, but honestly, I talked more than I should. My personality prevented me from enjoying notepads. I couldn't not talk. He had bought me pain medication and stuff to sleep because it had become impossible to do when all there is are nightmares. Memories of Jerome in his prime haunted me, and I tried to pretend nothing was wrong. I'm sure my brother knows I am unhappy, but he's not asking about it because pretending is easier than facing the truth.

"Okay, how could I -?" A long, deep breath and a straightening posture, "Miss Kringle, every time I observe you, I - No!"

My nose scrunched, confused.

Beads of sweat had accumulated on the older man's forehead as he nervously paced around the living room. His hands were opening and closing at his sides. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, watching in silence. All I had wanted was a glass of cold milk, but I found a distressed man instead. He's so frantic that he doesn't even realize that I'm right here with him.

I pursed my lips, thinking of a way to help him. It did take me a second, but something finally came. I reached one of the drawers, grabbing a black pen and a notecard. In neat penmanship, I scribbled an address and a time. I waltzed toward Edward, extending the notecard in front of his face. It caused him to jump.

"Oh my goodness!" He breathed, holding a hand over his chest before looking between the card and my smiling (well, I tried) face. He slipped the paper from my fingertips, inspecting it quizzically. "Chez Moi. 8 o'clock. Tonight? You want me to invite Miss Kringle here?" The man's brown eyes widened, beginning to shake his head frantically with denial while I nodded, agreeing, "No. No, I can't do that. Y-you're here, and I'm here. I-I don't have the guts to -" He began to protest but paused when he noticed my mocking. My hand was opening and closing, making a sort of duckbill, saying 'keep talking'.

He rolled his eyes and glanced at his wristwatch, groaning, "Great, I'm going to be late." Was said under his breath before running around to grab his things. I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head, and followed him to the door. He turned and placed a kiss on my forehead. "Bye, Ree. Don't burn the place down." I narrowed my eyes and slipped the card into his coat pocket - He caught me. An unimpressed look was sent my way. "I can't."

My eyebrow arched, "Ed."

He winced and quickly took the notecard, waving it in the air, "If I take it, will it make you stop talking?" I nodded, my toes bouncing somewhat excitedly, "But don't expect me to use it."

Is he serious?, I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at his stubbornness.

"He'll end up using it."

"I hope so."

My brother wrapped his arms around me one last time, "Love you." He mumbled. The loft door opened. I nodded, repeating those words to him, and immediately, his head snapped toward me, "No talking."

The whites of my eyes were shown for the one-millionth time. I watched the loft door shut in front of my face before making my way to the empty living room.

"So, what are we doing today?" My head turned to face her. She was sat on the sofa, picking at her fingernails. An eyebrow was raised, wondering the same. I glanced around the home; maybe there were plenty of things to do, but all I could see was a television. This thought caused her to scoff, "Movies again?"

Scrunching my nose, I shrugged. There's nothing better. "Fuck." I muttered and dug into the collection of movies to start my marathon.

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