Poisoned Waters | ✓

|𝟎𝟑| "𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭"

𝐍𝐎𝐀𝐇 exhaled, once he sat in the chair, he rose his eyes to Monet who sat across from him. She was folded into herself. Noah could tell she was intimidated, it was a regular reaction a lot of people had towards him.

"He told me to go easy on you, your brother, he thinks I'm going to kill you," Monet raised her eyes and he was smiling, her brows furrowed.

"Why?" she asked, her voice shook at first. She cleared her throat and sat up a little. "Why do you think you could easily kill me?"

"I ain't say that, maybe that's what he's saying, you didn't seem fond to see him, so maybe you can ask him. Either way, I'm just trying to know what the fuck you were doing, especially on my land?" His smile soon fell and his stare focused directly on her. The discomfort it brought Monet was overwhelming.

   Monet cleared her dry throat again, "I was driving, driving from Oxford—my dad used to live there. After Westley was gone and I was with a group who... they died. I came back to London because I had the slightest hope that my mum was still alive."

   "Goldcrest, what's that?" he asked. It'd been mentioned once or twice by West before but never explained anything about it to him.

   "A community, it's in the ground now. Burnt to the ground after a political riot. He killed our residents, slit my boyfriend's throat, and executed our dad since he was at the top of The Crest," Monet sighed, her eyes floating off to the right.

Noah just stared at her, he could see the fear in her eyes as she spoke about the topic, until they neutralised when she focused on him once more. "Monty told me about this place, how you've worked hard to keep it alive."

   "Nobody wants to die," he shrugged, he straightened from his slight slouch, "this community has survived with caution of those near. If you came from Oxford, did you pass through West London?"

   "No. I went along the M25 to Enfield and came through Central. It's sort of hard to navigate when I haven't been for seven years and all the road signs are destroyed. I was just trying to get to Tottenham." she explained. Noah wanted her to be lying, but she obviously wasn't. "Drove straight into a horde and crashed into a building. Not the best home-welcoming, I won't lie." she scoffed.

   Noah didn't say anything. She was the same Monet he remembered briefly meeting years ago, when West once picked her up from school. He could only remember how protective he was of her. He gnawed on his gum, lost in thought.

   "Who is Angelo, you mentioned him earlier, why do you think I'd know him?" Monet asked, Noah leaned forward again.

   "Because that would give me one good damn reason to kill you." he retorted firmly.

   "I'm guessing he isn't your mate then. Rival, you want to be at the top and so does he, or is it just that he scares you?" Monet tested.

   "Shut up," his voice boomed with his command, making Monet slightly flinch. He got onto his feet and paced. He ran his hand over his wavy coils—amidst the poisoned reality, this man seemed to still have the time to get a haircut. "He is a vengeful fucker and I have every right to protect this place. Do you have any affiliation towards him?"

   "I don't even know who you're talking about." she eventually answered, he looked too serious for her to continue to tease. He inwardly sighed.

   "Your things are with your brother. He said he'd personally slit my throat if you were out of his sight, so you can stay with him, even though I'd prefer you gone —" It would've at least put him at ease. "— but this is as good as it gets." He walked to the door of the empty room that they were sat in.