✓ Chaos Theory | Diego Hargreeves [1]

【CHAPTER THIRTEEN】

—chapter thirteen.

  ❛ I wish I could do more. ❜  

ELODIE HADN'T EXPECTED TO WAKE UP IN HER BED. The last thing she could recall was the wind swirling around her with only the city as her light source, but there she was, warm and inside.

For a moment, it made no sense. She could not remember leaving the balcony, she had made a point to -- hadn't she?

But then her fingers curled around her sheets, and she remembered what they had held last. Or rather, who. It was then that the memories surged forward. Stubble against her skin, soft lips kissing her chin before falling down to her shoulder --

-- he had carried her, she knew that then, if only vague reminders of it. Her eyes had stayed shut and she sat limp in his arms as he lifted her back to her bedroom. She remembered his soft curse when they hit a wall, though, and how he had tucked her in like a baby -- how she hadn't smiled, she didn't know.

Her fingers tentatively met her forehead, feeling the skin for a mark she knew wouldn't be there. Maybe her delirious mind had made it all up, but Elodie thought he had seriously kissed her goodnight...

She tried to let it go, but the thought still lingered.

Her morning was a little bit easier, for some reason. She normally woke up upset, grumpy and annoyed with anything in her way, snapping at invisible beings and spilling just about everything possible. But that day her heart felt a little lighter and her thoughts rang a little cleaner, too.

Elodie found herself singing along to the song in her head as she made her morning tea, something she hadn't done in aeons. She had the time to press the wrinkles out of her shirt and brush out her hair, taking special pride in taking care of herself. Her smile at the reflection in the mirror tasted genuine on her tongue and maybe, she could say it really was.

The young woman left her apartment happier than she had in a very long time. And to her credit, that mood hung around for most of her day. Sure, her shift rang long and she still walked into the bar grumpy, but that was just reality - no one would ever be thrilled to rush from one job to the next headache-inducing one, ready to wait on piss-pot costumers and swim in the stench of alcohol for the night. But she clutched tight to the positivity, and managed to hold it all the way through to the night's end.

But things immediately shifted when she saw his face.

Diego Hargreeves was not a naturally smiling being - she knew this, the world knew this, everyone and their mothers' were aware of this. But that night was worlds' different. His scowl was deeper and dragged his face down, leaving dark shadows to stain normally pleasant features. At first she thought he was just angry, but a second glance told it was more than that. She'd seen that same troubled expression on herself too many times to not recognise it on him.