VIRUS - Redemption

SEVEN

12.07.2038

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes shot open, finding myself in the room I had forgotten I was in. It was different to mine, less sterile and white, homelier. It was Patricks room. I yawned, rolling over to see Patrick doing the same thing. He looked at me, a slight frown furrowed across his brows.

Knock. Knock. Knock. "Patrick?" The knocker at the door spoke up. Patrick sat up quickly, pulling the duvet back and sliding out from beneath it. He visibly shivered when his bare feet touched the cold tile. Grabbing his robe, he wrapped it around himself, another yawn escaping his lips. I sat up, watching him as he walked to the door and opened it swiftly.

"Problem?" His voice was husky, you could hear the tiredness in his throat.

"Elle isn't in her room." I recognised it as Drago's voice. "We think she might've left. East went to get her for breakfast and –"

"Drago." I called out, Patrick stepping to the side. Drago's eyes passed from Patrick to me, behind him in his bed, his face dropping and turning a slight grey colour. "Can we keep this between -"

"Found her." Drago yelled out, quickly disappearing from Patrick's door and back down the hallway. I sighed deeply, placing my head in my hands as Patrick slowly closed the door again. He looked back at me, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"Nothing happened, Elle."

"They won't think that." I groaned, looking up at him. Robert will be so disappointed, or mad. If he took the brotherly approach, he would be mad. If he took the role of Luther, he would be disappointed. He seemed more and more like Luther every day, but still my Brother; so, he will be both, no doubt. Another reason for Robert to dislike me. "He doesn't know our history."

"So, we will tell him." Patrick sat on the end of the bed, placing his hand on my exposed leg reassuringly. I nodded. "We're just friends, Elle. Nothing wrong with that. Everyone is allowed a friend."

"You're right." I said, "I shouldn't freak out. We'll just explain about the fence."

"Exactly." Patrick nodded, taking his hand off my leg. "You should probably go and get ready, we've got to start heading back to London soon. I don't want to give Robert another reason to be mad at you."

"You're right." I sighed, "Again." I pulled the covers back and got out, lazily pulling my boots on. Taking the note Patrick left me, I folded it up and put it in my pyjama pocket before I hurriedly left his room, without another word or look. The hallway was clear, I managed to get into my room without seeing a single person. I don't know if that was a coincidence, or I was being avoided.

I went straight for the bathroom, turning the hot shower on and getting in without another thought. I stood under the stream for a moment, my face pointed at the ceiling, letting the water run down my body, from the top of my head to my feet on the tiles. It was hard to take in the last 12 hours.

Maybe, because it was so unlike me. Maybe, I shouldn't think of it as an accomplishment. I didn't feel proud, but I felt I should. My Father engrained such a hatred for men I didn't see the day I would voluntarily sleep next to one.

"Stop." I whispered to myself, the thought of my Father once again creeping into my mind. I put a hand out to brace myself against the wall, a sudden urge to be sick swept across my body. With my eyes closed, all I could see in the darkness was Luther's face. His narrow eyes the colour of earth. His thin mouth turned down constantly; or the way he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

I opened my eyes quickly, shaking my head. I needed to stop, I felt so confident leaving Patrick's room; but the moment I was alone, he crept back into my thoughts. I held onto the wall, covering my mouth with my free hand.