Man in the Wall (Who is he?)

Chapter 53 - Opportunity terminated

Vivian's POV:

Words! Mere words! Yet, they manage to leave me bewildered. My mouth hangs agape as I stare at the empty space once occupied by a pretentious and self-serving ass.

I fooled myself basking in his game of pretense, believing the unbelievable. Jess warned me of this, yet, I chose to ignore her in hopes of his kindness to be true. I fooled myself well.

It lingers in the air, thick and heavy, like a blanket. An inescapable silence. A silence needing to be filled with sound, words, anything. Then I find it. The only word that makes sense at the moment, the only word willing to leave my mouth.

"Steven!" I call after him.

My hands act on their own accord and begin to move the blanket off me as my legs shift to the side of the bed. A pain sears throughout my body at the quick movement and I hiss at the sudden attack. A few joints popping every now and then.

"Where do you think you're going?" mystery man voices, sending my heart rate spiking.

"Where do you think Mr.I-only-speak-when-we're-alone?"

I continue to position myself to the side of my bed, gripping the edge and ready to stand up. This is probably a bad idea but an idea nonetheless.

"I advise you not to, princess. Your body can't handle it," he says sternly but I choose to ignore his warning. I'm far too focused on going through with my initial plan.

My feet brush the floor and arms begin to shake as I push on them to raise my butt from the bed. Once my feet are flat on the ground I attempt to stand up straight. Just one step, I tell myself, ignoring my sweaty palms and trembling limbs.

My left leg shuffles forward as I mentally command it to and I almost gleam at the tiny accomplishment. Looks like physio won't be needed after all. I command my right leg to follow suit, which it surprisingly does and decide to let go of holding onto the bed and bedside table for support. I've got this walking thing under control.

A few more turtle-paced steps and I should reach the door in no time.

I take another step forward and all too soon my flaccid legs buckle and cave. My hands grab air trying to stop the inevitable, but I fall face down regardless of my attempts. The impact so powerful it sends shock waves throughout my entire body and I cannot stop myself from crying out in pain.

"I warned you not to!" he rails, the frustration audible.

Another crash can be heard.

Unable to move for a few seconds, I lie still, ignoring my exposed butt due to the open flapped gown and take a few deep breaths. With my palms pressed flat on the surface, I begin to shift so that my forearms are on the ground as I raise my head and upper body.

The side of my face feels wet, sticky. I look to the ground only to see I had fallen straight in Michael's blood and I groan with frustration. It decorates me like red paint.

I push myself up and notice an object near me to my left. Turning my head to get a better look at it, I see that I've somehow knocked the lamp over, the light bulb shattered to pieces.

It doesn't get destroyed during Steven and Michael's fight, but it does during my fall? Unbelievable.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I rotate my body so that I'm leaning my back against the bedside table. The cold floor stings my butt cheeks. My legs are folded to one side, remaining in the position they were when I fell. There's no point in getting up now when my energy level is close to nonexistent.

"You should have listened to me," he begins yet again. Of course, he knew better. He always seems to know better.

The authority I have in this forsaken place is zero to none, that much is clear, but it doesn't stop me from voicing my thoughts and demanding to know what's happening. I couldn't simply allow Steven to storm off without giving me a proper answer. Except that's exactly what happened thanks to my brittle legs. I could've caught up with him by now.