Her Orange Dreadlocks

T.W.E.L.V.E Shhhh.

[Okay I wrote this chapter today. I was too excited to post it on Monday. I hope to stick to a better schedule next week and post Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays!  If you're a former reader and you havent gone back and reread the rewrites, do so if you'd like! ]

T.W.E.L.V.E

Eliza awoke with a start. It was Friday night, and when she looked over at her phone she was temporarily blinded by its brightness before being able to see that the clock said 3:13AM.

Why am I awake right now? Eliza thought, groaning to herself.

She was lying in bed trying to woo herself back to slumber before she heard Marilyn's muffled voice in the hallway.

Why wasn't he in his room? She wondered, but listened.

"Shh, Antoinette. She will hear your voice and then how shall I explain myself to her?" He seemed to be pleading with someone.

A crisp, female voice came from the hallway after, "I understand,Radcliffe. But I cannot let you move so quickly. They are all just as impatient as you are, I assure you--"

She was cut off by the sharp voice of Marilyn. "Antoinette, I highly doubt any of the family are as impatient as I am to find what I need. And I will not be told what to do in my own home. I am following all guidelines and doing things the way they are supposed to be done."

Antoinette scoffed, "I am your advisor, Radcliffe."

Marilyn grumbled angrily. "Then advise me. Do not order me around."

"I do not intend to order you, Radcliffe, I just dont want Elizabeth to end up like all of the others." Antoinette said, defending herself.

"She will not." Marilyn said finally. "Now return to your room...the sun will rise in a few hours and I don't want to catch you where she will see you. I dont doubt that she can already feel you watching her."

"Of course." Antoinette spoke stoically.

Soon after, Eliza had returned to her bed quietly. But she heard the knob on her door open and then the door softly shut behind her. She could tell it was him by the smell of his detergent. Lilac. Her mind was reeling. Who the hell was he talking to? Why didnt he want me to know about her? Why was she calling him Radcliffe? Who were the other people they were talking about?

She knew he was standing by her bed, and her breathing became labored and she became very aware of her surroundings. Marilyn sat down gently on her bed, and placed his hand over hers that was draped over her stomach.

"Open your eyes, Angel." Marilyn said somberly. He knew she was awake.

Eliza sheepishly peeked out of the corner of her eyes at him, "Hpw did you know I was awake?" She asked finally.

Marilyn chuckled, ever so softly. "You're not exactly the best sneak, Angel. I could hear you walking to the door."

"Oh…" she whispered.

Was he mad at her? She really couldn't decipher the expression on his face, and wasnt sure that she wanted to right now either.

Marilyn was quiet, his thumb gently rubbing the skin on the top of her hand while he was lost in thought. Eliza wonderes if he would ever speak, or if they would be sitting like this until the end of time.

Finally, his hand stopped moving and he looked at her face. "Why are you doing this to me, Angel?" He asked quietly, almost pleading with her.

Eliza's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?" She asked, shifting her body into a sitting position, with her back against the headboard.