Quinn O'Connell was the pretty girl in pink, the homecoming queen and all-around straight-A student. Most people saw her as uptight, narcissistic but most importantly... They saw her as a control freak with her perfect blonde hair and patronising sm...
includes scenes of a sensitive nature, please read with care.
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Hargreaves house was absolutely beautiful but it also happened to be Quinn O'Connells worst nightmare, the great columns of strict grey stone and perfect architecture was her vision of hell as the red brick buildings of the High School had been her heaven. The grey walls of the manor held so many secrets, sheltered by the emerald green trees and ferns, secrets long since ignored and protected. Quinn O'Connell sat in her car, the car that he had given her for the longest time on that particular Monday evening, the glittering rain hammering down painfully on the roof of the car, clinking rhythmically as her ocean eyes swam with a million thoughts.
This new world in which she lived was a million miles away from the sweet fairytale that only three years ago, had been her life. And it sickened her to the soul that once before all the shadows crept in to swallow her sunshine, she called Jensen Hargreaves 'dad'. The solemn expression that curtained over her features was payment for the bright grin she had carried all day. Eventually, as the sky plunged into a pool of orange, she dragged herself toward the inevitable.
The front door was so beautifully welcoming, like the sweet nectar in a flytrap, but it was painted such a deeply devilish purple, the knocker a carefully moulded shiny silver. It was cruel, the beauty of it, painted in her mothers favourite colour as she composed herself and pushed it wide open before her hair could get any wetter than the rain had currently already made it. The front door was where memories of her mother died, because in the entrance hall and beyond, it would be completely impossible to tell that any females lived there at all. There was not a single vase of flowers or painting of a female in sight, all was careful, dark and simple. It was like the devil's lair and Quinn knew it so well.
The pure factor that she was alone in the entrance hall silenced the hammering of her heart in her ears at least slightly. She was in a permanent state of unease in the Hargreave house, her nerves on edge and gooseflesh aplenty, jumping at even the smallest sound that the large and silent house produced.
"Miss Quinn" such a simple, soft voice should not have had the effect that it did but it sent Quinns heart racing and at the sight of the frowning, elderly house worker had her sighing in audible relief. The room was so incredibly dark but the lady's eyes seemed to twinkle. Quinn wanted nothing more than to get close to the workers, to have some semblance of familiarity in these dark chambers but she couldn't bring herself to even shoot the short lady a smile because she knew. There was no way that the servants that bustled about didn't know, Quinn wasn't taken quietly and after all this time, she wished she could be, seeing as Jensen seemed to just drink in her screams, stronger from her fear.
Quinn O'Connell was utterly terrified of the only person she was familiar with. Jensen Hargreaves was absolutely vile and when he had signed the adoption papers, she had become his. In years to come, when she retold the story of Hargreaves house, she was certain that people would ask her why she stayed as if she hadn't ever been smart enough to consider leaving. But it was because she was smart that Quinn stayed, there was no world out there for her, no place where she could be safe and the image burned into her brain, of a whimpering Elizabeth O'Connell, was enough to keep her silent.
"You're all wet, and you're late to dinner" the woman was flustered, she'd worked here in the entire five years that Quinn had lived here but never did the blonde bother to learn her name. She didn't do it purposely, to be rude, on the contrary, Quinn didn't bother to learn peoples names because that would build a level of trust and Quinn O'Connell did not want. "Quickly, quickly, you mustn't leave him waiting." and she practically ripped Quinn's coat from her body, dragging her along and into the lion's den.
The dining room was unnaturally dark, lit only by the faded glow of the sunset through the tall victorian windows that lined parallel to the long oak table. Candles decorated the table and it absolutely sickened Quinn to see, it was some twisted semblance of a date and without even shifting her gaze to his face for a second, she sat in one of the highbacked dining chairs, her painted white nails dug into the crushed velvet armrests, the dining table pressed flush against her body. The slight aching of the pressure of the table kept her sat straight and kept her at the moment despite how her heart hammered.
They were sat opposite one another, the long table keeping them apart, windows to their right and the closed door to their left. This was how he had intended, the lonely silence of it and as her eyes stared into the food on her plate, she knew that he must be waiting for her to meet his eye... and Jensen Hargreaves was not a patient person. Slowly, her eyes mapped the tablecloth, taking in the simple candles that were placed delicately and trailing all the way to where he sat. The food on his own silver plate was untouched, his suit crisp and dark, she knew that people in town called him handsome despite his calloused hands and slightly wrinkled skin but as she stared at him on that Monday evening, all she saw was a monster.
Jensen Hargreaves lounged easily in his chair, his elbow perched on the armrest, hand brushing over the stubble that dusted his chin. His face was as unreadable as a mask and his eyes were as dark as the shadows that danced in the room. He was like a king perched upon his throne.
"What, not hungry?" at that moment, as with almost every other night, Quinn O'Connell felt frozen, like a Greek statue, her eyes glazed over like a puddle as he spoke lowly. Her ears strained to hear what she did not want to know, his words.
"Would you like a drink Quinny?" his hands expertly took the wine in front of him, pouring a healthy amount into his glass and as her blue eyes stared at the splashing liquid, she was only reminded of blood. The bitter taste of wine would have a drastic effect on the evening, she knew that the more she drank, the less she would remember and for a fraction of a second, she contemplated saying yes. What would he have said if she had? Mutely, she shook her head in the negative, Quinn relied on her senses, all she ever did was fight and she wouldn't impair that. "Hmm, suit yourself Little Lady" he drank slowly, deeply, never taking his gaze off of her.
"Did you have a good day?" the words he spoke were so ordinary but they induced such great fear in her, everything he did caused her fear, so when he stood with a flourish, she was instantly set on edge. He walked toward her so expertly, knowing that she couldn't move through her fear, relying on that. When he reached her end of the table, the dark glow through the window reduced him to just a shadow and she shuddered, feeling her chair be pulled backwards.
Quinn O'Connell felt as though she was living with a ghost and when he turned her chair to him, she felt as cold as a block of ice, his perfect teeth seemed to glint in the candlelight as his hands placed expertly on each of the arms, trapping her in. "Shall we play a game, Quinny?"
"A..A game?" everything he said seemed to take twice as long to process in her petrified mind and he grabbed her chin. Inside, the sane and rational side of her was screaming and thrashing but externally, Quinn O'Connell was like a porcelain doll, perfectly still and unmoving as she stared into the eyes of a monster, her own eyes a glazy blue film.
"Hmm" he needn't bother talking to her, the words couldn't settle in her mind as her ears rang and when he finally pressed his lips to her, she felt utterly nauseous, sick to the soul and frozen, unmoving. His lips were none of the things she wanted, he was not soft or gentle, his lips were chapped, delinquently rough and uncaring and all she wanted was to punch him flat in the face. Six months ago she had, now she had been trained to be tame, unmoving. "Mmm, I'm in need of some exercise Quinny." she just blinked and he stepped back. "That would surely make this a lot more fun... Run"
