Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 20

Emily Greene.

The ground is so soft! The last thing I remember was collapsing and it sure as heck didn't feel this comfortable when I hit the ground. I've probably been down for about ten minutes, that's enough time to get comfortable, I suppose. My eyes flicker open as they adjust to the warm  yellow light around me, aching racing through my limbs. I see a figure curled up in a seated ball beside me, "O-Owen?" I croak out, sounding like a fifty-year-old chain smoker, "How did you find me?" 

He ignores my question and, instead, yanks me into a bone-crushing hug, "Don't do that again. You scared us all," He whispers and I sigh, breathing in the solace scent of his clothes, "How did you find me?" I repeat bluntly, remembering how infuriating he and our families were before I ran out. He lets go of me, "I didn't, Garcia was in the park with his little sister and found you there. We were at your parents', then I brought you home. You're quite lucky, if you ask me. You're not going to school today, you're not well enough," He goes back to his cold self, shunning me with a bigotry stare. 

Rolling my eyes, I ignore his expression, "Well, I'm taking a shower, I feel disgusting," I state, rolling off of his bed and toddling to my bedroom. Owen hovers slightly behind, keeping close in case I pass out again. I guess he is hanging out in my bedroom whilst I shower. 

***

Getting Owen to leave the room whilst I got changed was a chore so I just gave in and changed in my closet with the door shut tightly, even going to the extent of wrapping my dressing gown belt around the handles to ensure that he doesn't suddenly decide to become a peeping Tom. I decide to wear some black leggings and a white sweatshirt, "I'm ready for whatever we're doing today," I announce to Owen as I step out of my closet and he nods, "Put some makeup on, we might go out later," He commands, typing away on his phone. 

Pouting, I pop my knee, throwing my hands to my side, "I don't wanna go out. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not tip top at the moment," I hiss at him and he sends me a death glare, "On second thoughts, I'll just put some concealer and mascara on," He pushes further, "and some lip gloss?" he continues his glaring, "Eyebrows?" he nods in content. 

Who is he to tell me what to do to my face? "Your fiancé," He answers and I cuss under my breath when I realise I said that aloud. Obliging, not wanting an argument to break out, I lightly dab on the makeup and turn to Owen when I'm done, "Acceptable for you?" I ask and he smirks and nods, "Our parents will be here in about five minutes to discuss the wedding. I don't know what's going on so it'll be news for the both of us," He tells me, turning to exit but stops and turns to me expectantly, "You coming?" 

Finishing my yawn, I blink, "Oh, yeah," I jump into action but suddenly return to a light-headed state, wobbling. Owen is by my side in the flash of an instant, supporting me with an arm wrapped around my waist, taking me downstairs and into the kitchen, "Eat something," He demands and waits for me to tell him what I want. 

Shutting my eyes, I breathe deeply, ignoring the food scattered across the kitchen counters, "I don't know if I can, Owen. It makes me feel gross," I whine at him, my eyes shut gently and I can practically feel him shake his head at me, "How about I make you a fruit bowl? It's healthy and you like them," He suggests, already reaching for a porcelain bowl and the punnets of strawberries from the fridge. 

Sighing, I admit defeat, my stomach churning at the thought, "Fine but not too much." I compromise and he shrugs, "Sure," He turns his back to me and begins preparing it, "and, no, you are not throwing it back up later." 

Sardonically, I scoff, "I wasn't planning on. I don't like being unconscious," I state and he chuckles, "You do know I can do my own food, right?" In spite of my comment, he keeps working away, chopping up some strawberries, "Yes but if you pass out again and impale yourself with a knife, I'll be in trouble."