Against society [AMBW]

Chapter Fifty One

"What?" My eyes fall heavy with disbelief. What does he possibly mean... almost killed me? Since when did I come close to death with him being the closest reason for why?

"My-" He gulps, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes fall to his lap, refusing to look upon me or even himself in the mirror.

"My dad."

"What about him?" Just the fact that I know his father has some sort of impact on his feelings right now, makes my body shiver with an icy trickle running down my back.

"He found out...." His tone is raspy and cold. Almost immediately after mentioning his father, his voice cracks with pain and regret intertwining themselves.

"How?" My voice comes out short and breathless. My head hurts with the thought of his father knowing. The first time I met him, he had seemed like a man ready to understand different cultures, however over the last few weeks many doubts of this have entered my mind with this man.

"I don't know." He sighs.

"What do you mean?" I pester on, intrigued to know more. To find out more. If he knows, who else does. Who else despises me?

"Faviola," He groans, throwing his head back, left hand pressing onto his forehead, "I don't know. I don't know how he found out. He just does."

"oh."

Silence invades the car. Nothing but the swish of the wind can be heard against the ruffles of leaves. A disturbing tingling sensation runs through my spine causing an abrupt shiver, not only making myself jump but also making him aware. Despite this, the mood doesn't change. The mood doesn't rise.

The longer we sit and wait for nothing to happen, the harder the rain hits the surface of windscreen similar to the sound of rice being added to my mother's pot. Harshly... it hits harshly. The rain, the mood, his words.

My lip trembles and my eyes sting with tears on the verge of falling. We've come this far. I've come this far. It was the plan. We're supposed to leave. I put my trust in him. We've stopped in the middle of nowhere. I'm alone again.

Glancing across from my seat, he sits straight with his fists clenched and his left hand's index finger nail scratching against the loose skin in between itself and the thumb.

"He wants me to stay." His eyes don't leave the stare he has on the one lagging drop of water trickling down his side mirror.

"He wants you to stay." He sniffs.

"He knows they want to kill me, doesn't he?" I chew my lip, speaking firmly with my eyes staring into the side of his head.

He goes quiet, still scratching at his skin, making it obvious I'm correct. I grab his left hand, ripping his index finger from his skin. Keeping all eyes on him, I watch his face hesitantly turn to face mine. The redness in his eyes is still apparent, the bags under his eyes are slowly fading and the strength in his eyes are suddenly decreasing. The walls in his eyes are steadily collapsing piece by piece. Wide eyed and mouth slightly ajar, they gaze at my face. Not just my eyes but my face. Studying every inch of it, just like the first time we met. It's almost as if this is a flashback. His eyes look at me as if I'm a new person. They look as if they know me, but also are trying to forget me.

"Doesn't he?" I repeat, teeth gritted, eyes attached to his.

Almost as if he's not supposed to tell me, his head -in doubt- moves up and down with a sorrowful expression.

Why?

This whole time we had lasted. We have lasted right up to this point!

We've stayed strong, we've been loyal, we've shared a trust. Except now, my eyes are just starting to strip away the spell I was put under. The eyes I fell for him with are not here. They're gone... I still do love him... I just don't look at him the same.