Poisoned Waters | ✓

|𝟐𝟖| "𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬"

𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 was a suitable word to describe Noah's presence at the moment. After recovering enough from his blood transfusion to be discharged, he was unheard from for the next passing days. It was safe to say that the events of the last few days were taking a toll on Noah's whole being, and rightfully so. He was struggling to get past how stupid he felt for thinking there could actually be peace.

Monet walked into his quiet home. As she immediately turned to the stairs, she never really realised how untouched his downstairs area actually was, she even wondered if Noah ever ate. With that thought, she went back into the kitchen to pick up an apple for him.

She opened the door to his bedroom to find his bed empty. Though her frantic reaction dialled down once she found him on the ground beside a pile of broken glass near his alcohol cart. "Oi. You should be resting."

She startled him and he slowly turned to look at her. "I broke my glass." She approached him, as he fiddled with the large pieces of the glass shards. As she drew nearer, his bruises were more visible, Mackenzie really did a number on him, even though Noah did almost gauge out his eye.

"You've got others. You shouldn't even be drinking right now." she sighed, she knelt down beside him.

"It was my pretty, floral one—the one I liked." He showed her a piece of glass that was still intact enough for her to see the indented decoration on the bottom rim. Monet studied Noah's sad eyes, his favourite glass seemed to only be the tip of the iceberg of the broken soul. She smiled gently, stroking his cheek with her gloved hand.

   "I'll find you another pretty one, I think I can snatch a few from Westley's apartment." Noah faintly smiled at the sound of that. "Come on, let's get you back into bed, yeah? I'm guessing you ain't eaten in a while either."

Noah groaned as his reply, as Monet tried to help him onto his feet, he hissed in pain. "This is so annoying." he grumbled, flopping onto his bed. Once he painfully rolled into his covers, Monet sat on the bed as well. "I'm tired of feeling like I'm not doing anything right. I took Angelo's offer for a truce because I thought he really meant it, he looked like he did. But then five minutes later, he shanks me." he scoffed.

"You did. You apologised, I know his sister would've definitely appreciated it." Monet assured him. "You're doing the best you can, Mackenzie and Westley are making it difficult, and I'm sure Angelo knows that as well."

"I don't know," he mumbled glumly. "It didn't seem so when he mentioned Mack. I should've fucking strangled him when I had the chance."

   "Yeah, Zara told me that you guys fought," Monet nodded.

   "What parts did she leave out, the bit where she was helping Mack and West with one of their plans and ended up getting a child killed?"

   Shock riddled Monet's face, allowing her to only release a breathless, "Yeah."

   "Thought so. Everyone I had trusted with my life is proving me wrong right now." Noah's eyes fell to the glossy apple that Monet was holding, just as his own eyes were beginning to shimmer with tears.

"Let's talk about something else." She took a bite of the apple, before offering it to him. "You gotta eat something, not just drink whiskey." She laid down close beside him and handed him the apple. He took a bite and sighed.

"Thank you, Mo." he muttered past his chewing.

"For what?" she asked, pulling his arm down gently so she could take a second bite. He chuckled faintly.

"The blood. Just being here. I feel like you're one of the last people I can trust." Monet met his hazel gaze that studied her profile. She turned on her side and stroked his delicate skin along his bruised, stubbled jaw with her fingertips.