Decadent Rose (ON HOLD)

Dare To Remember I 2

Chapter Three

"Nothing" She muttered. Her hands clutched her stomach protectively and she knew she should probably call an ambulance or something, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She would have rather felt the physical pain than the emotional one that tore at her soul. Peter smiled, oblivious to the pain as he tossed away his cigarette and crunched it under his black boots with a satisfied smirk.

"Sure, sure" He rolled his eyes "People cry for no reason all the time." He paused and glanced back at her "-they also tend not to look like they've just got out of hell itself" Emily couldn't argue. She was sure, despite the lack of a mirror, that her clothes were covered in soot and her own blood, that her hair was knotted with sweat at the back of her neck and that her face was covered in the grime of sooty tears. She just prayed he couldn't see the blood.

"Yeah, actually, they do" She lied. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to be alone"

"Oh, you would, would you?" He smirked darkly, bringing a strange sparkle to his almost endless black eyes. "Shame, love. I don't think anyone ever wants to be alone"

"Well-" Emily sniffed and wiped at her eyes "-I do. I really do. So if you could just go and-"

"What's with the blood?" Emily flinched and instinctively glanced down at where her hands were caked in blood that oozed through her fingers and continued to stain her shirt. She'd taken the glass out on her way there and screamed out in pain when she did. In fact, she was surprised no one noticed the long drips of blood that followed her every step.

"I...I-um" She stuttered uselessly. Peter sighed and rolled his eyes again as he moved to crouch in front of her again, practically glaring at her for no apparent reason. His hand went for her stomach, but she slapped it away fiercely "What are you doing!?" She hissed.

"I'm just trying to help, love" She stared at him, eyes narrowed, as she thought over his words. He seemed completely unfazed by her shaggy, unclean appearance of ripped black skinny jeans and a what was a white plain long-sleeved shirt, that was more grey now. He didn't even seem to care that she was seemingly bleeding to death in front of his very eyes. She didn't know if she could trust him, but something beyond her own control said yes before she had the chance to argue. Eventually she sighed in defeat and allowed her arms to go limp.

Peter smirked at her defeat "Good girl"

"I'm not a dog" Emily muttered back, making the corners of his mouth twitch up a little more. She winced as his fingers gently brushed her skin, but he didn't even glance up at her apologetically or step back. Instead, he looked into her eyes for permission as his fingers wrapped around the edge of her shirt. She nodded hesitantly and clenched her fists as he pulled up her shirt, only enough so that the cut was visible near the bottom of her stomach. With his other hand, he gently prodded the skin around the wound, oblivious to Emily's grimacing face with every touch.

"What happened, love?" He asked as he continued to examine her wound, of which had slowed down bleeding, and stared at it as if he knew what he was doing. She doubted it. He glanced up as he felt her eyes like lasers on him. She glared. "Okay" He breathed "I won't ask about what happened. Can you tell me what cut you?"

Her body slumped as she sighed "A bottle. A glass bottle" He nodded in affirmation. Silence filled the atmosphere around them and she fought back a sad smile as she imagined a tumble-weed rolling down the road with some cheesy country music playing in the background. Her father loved country music; he always used to tell her the country music was the medicine of the World, that it could cure any pain. Then her mum passed and nothing eased the pain, not the drink or the drugs. Not even the violence. For a long time, she believed she would have done anything just to have her mother back, but then she realised that she didn't want Casey back. She didn't want Casey to see her father in such a state. Minutes passed before he finally said something again.