Dead Roses

Cover

Chapter Five

Nyke's P.O.V

My eyes wander over the beauty exhibited on London's features, even her imperfections intrigue me. The broken girl who sits before me compels me, triggers my instincts to fix all that is shattered within her. She's wired me, to pick up each individual piece and repair what has crumbled from the flame, ignited the moment she met Greyson, the flame that has damaged her immensely.

"It wasn't love. I'm too young to be in love," she shrugs.

"No one is ever too young to feel or to be in love, Lonnie. You can't restrict yourself from feeling emotions, based on your age," I defend softly. One day, I aspire to have the same love my parents share. They fell in love when they were both sixteen, and since that day they had been attached by the hip. Mum and Dad have argued and fought, tears were shed, and furniture was broken. However, the love they had for each other hadn't faltered in the slightest. In fact, they continue to grow stronger and stronger as the day passes.

"Maybe one day when my life has settled, I will try and find the one but for now, I've given up on it," she stares into the distance. Her ivory skin is covered by horrid hickeys from Greyson. I shudder at the thought of his name and raises bile to my throat. How could someone be so vile? My eyes trail up to her freckled face. Despite the fact she wears a lot of makeup, I can still see her freckles clearly. I focus my gaze on a red mark, barely covered by the layer of foundation she applied on. It looks as if it is a handprint of some sort. A small gasp escapes my lips. Was that Greyson? That sick prick.

"What's that on your cheek?" I ask, already knowing the answer. Her eyes widen in shock and her small hand covers her cheek. "Did Greyson do that?" I pry even further.

"No, he didn't. Shut up," she affirms standing up, staggering away leaving me and the almost empty bottle of scotch on the cold concrete. Shit. I wrap my head around how I could have pissed her off so much that she would leave as she did. I investigated impertinently and acted rather demanding and nosy. I won't pressure her to give me the truth. But I will find out.

I watch as she stops in front of a pole to regain balance and take it as my cue to apologize. It may be too soon; however, I don't want her to think of me any lower than she already should.

"L-Lonnie, wait," I stammer partly out of breath.

"I need to go home, sorry," she slurs pinching her eyes shut. Fuck, this isn't good.

"I'll walk with you, I need to apologize," I say, picking her up bridal style. She is almost as light as a feather and poorly attempts to get out of my grip, however, I don't let her. Lonnie slowly eases into my touch, nesting her head in the crook of my neck. I know the way to her house from here, as when I drove her home, we passed the liquor store. It's less than a five-minute walk.

"Nyke, I don't like you. I don't like that you always apologize for no reason. And I don't like that you always just appear," I lightly chuckle, holding her closer to me as I cross the road.

"I'm going to continue appearing, and I'm definitely going to continue apologizing Lonnie. Especially when I make mistakes," I say, mostly to myself.

"Why? We aren't friends, are we?" she asks, lifting her head and her emerald green eyes look dead into mine. I stifle a laugh and respond.

"We are friends," the words escape my lips. "Even though you don't like me," I tease.

"I guess I could make some changes," her sweet voice fills my ears and I begin smiling uncontrollably as we appear in her front yard.