A strange wave of calmness washes over me, and I lay my head back down, maintaining eye contact with him through the glass. His presence, even at a distance, brings an unexpected comfort, a huge difference to how I once felt when he used to watch me. As the tension eases from my body, I finally drift off to sleep, knowing Hell is watching over me, my deadly guardian in the night.
It's been a few days since everything went down and Eli is still giving me the silent treatment. His anger is understandable, but we're fucking adults. I believe we should be able to talk about it. Today, I plan to visit Blush. She is going to dye my hair, and I hope to get some answers about what to expect at Dark Night, which is fast approaching in a few days.
Deep down, I know it won't be pretty and I truly believe it’s something sinister, but the thought of innocents dying unsettles me, and I hope that's not the case. In a twisted way, I hope they deserve it because that might make it easier to stomach. The way these acts and murders might be committed, along with facing Hellion, makes me anxious, and I have no idea why I haven't run for the fucking hills yet. What is keeping me here? Why am I so attached to these people and the atmosphere?
In some strange way, this place is starting to feel like a home. A messed-up home, but a home, nonetheless. It's more of a home than what I had to endure for years after my mother died.
Sitting on the end of the bed, I slide on my boots when Eli suddenly walks into the room and I lift my head, noticing the bruising around his eyes, but he still avoids me, heading for the wardrobe. I keep my gaze on him as I tie my boots and he slips on a jacket.
“You're working tonight?” I ask, hoping to break the ice after the hundredth attempt, but he continues to ignore me.
“You can keep avoiding me, but it's not going to change anything,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice. “We need to talk, Eli.”
He stops for a moment, his hand pausing on the wardrobe handle, and I can see the tension in his shoulders, but then he continues as if I haven't spoken at all, rummaging through his clothes.
I stand up, crossing the room to stand behind him. “E, please. This isn't helping either of us. I get that you're angry but shutting me out is childish.”
He finally turns and looks at me, his eyes hard and filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “What do you want me to say, Noir? That I'm okay with everything? Because I'm not. You put me in danger, and this ruins everything.”
I swallow hard, knowing he's right. “I know and I'm sorry, but we can't move forward if we don't talk about it.”
He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You’re into fucking clowns now? Does this mean we’re done?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Nothing I say will explain or justify what you saw, but I will be honest with you because you deserve the truth.”
Eli stands there, arms crossing over his chest, finally ready to listen to what I have to say, and I sigh before facing aside. “I can't resist him,” I admit, almost bluntly.
He lets out a loud scoff, “What the fuck, Noir!”
My eyes return to his, and I give a small shoulder shrug. “Again, I am just being honest. You've been a great friend, but...”
“Friend?” he barks. “A fucking friend? We've been together and fucking for months. Is this because I'm having problems?” He glances down at his crotch before returning his eyes to mine.
I shake my head, my brows pinching together. “No, of course not. I just have never felt romantically connected to you, E.”
My honesty makes his face fall. “You used me,” he breathes out.
I shake my head again. “No, I...”
“What was I? Just to pass the time? What the fuck, Noir. I was there for you when you had fucking no one. You would have died without me!”
I narrow my eyes, hating the fact that he said that. Although he might think that’s true, I would have still found a way of survival regardless because that’s me, but I brush it aside, not wanting to argue.
“I appreciate everything you have done for me, and I want to stay friends, but I think it's best if we're not like that anymore. I am not going to feed you any more false hope. Whatever we were, ends now.”
His fists clench, and he storms toward me, but I stand my ground and when he is entirely in my space, I stare up at him blankly while he simmers on the edge of wrath. The intensity in his eyes burns, and I can feel the heat of his anger radiating off him.
After a tense silence, I shake my head once. “He will kill you,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You need to be very, very careful with threatening me. If you can't control yourself,then I suggest you leave this place altogether because if he finds out you're even getting in my face like this, I won't stop him.”
His eyes flash with disbelief and he takes a step back, his fists still trembling. “You'd let him kill me?” he gasps out.
I hold his gaze steadily. “If you keep doing this bullshit, yes. I won't protect you from him. I won’t even protect you from myself.”
His face contorts with frustration. “You're choosing him over me?”
“I'm choosing myself, E,” I reply firmly. “And you should choose you. This isn't a fucking game. You need to decide what's more important: your pride or your life.”
He stares at me, his expression torn, and then he lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine,” he mutters. “But don't expect me to stick around and be there when you self-destruct, because you fucking will, and he won’t help you. He’s only using you for your pussy.”
