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“Where do you smell the roses?” Sidney asks softly, his hands moving to my shoulders after washing my hair. Shrugging off his touch, I drop my chin to my chest, pulling my knees up as well.
“I don’t want to tell you,” I whisper. “It’ll change how you think of me.”
“You could tell me you killed a dozen men after you fucked them, and danced over their bodies. It wouldn’t change the way I think of you,” Sidney hisses at me. “You’re perfect, way too damn smart, and fucking infuriating. Silla, you feel things so intensely too. I forget that you allow my words to hurt you.”
“This hurts more than your words,” I say immediately before I can think about it.
“What does, Pet? You’re holding yourself so protectively, won’t let me touch you...” Sidney isn’t an idiot, and I flinch, even though I’m not facing him. It’s almost as if I can hear as it all clicks into place. “Did someone hurt you? Fuck, Lana smells like roses, it’s as if it’s all I can smell when she passes by me.”
I don’t respond, her name making my eyes tear up of their accord again.
“Okay,” he murmurs to himself. “Fuck, Pet. I’m so sorry. The woman is a fucking menace.”
Did he…
Turning in surprise, my eyes meet his, wide with surprise. “Why are you apologizing to me? You didn’t do this…”
“No, but I’ll apologize a million more times if it means I get to see your beautiful eyes, Pet. I’m sorry I’ve been a dick, and—”
Throwing myself into his arms, I wrap my arms around his neck. “Shut up,” I whisper, holding him tightly.
Sidney holds his hands at his side, not wanting to trigger me. “Can you tell me if I’m right?” he asks me gently.
“You are,” I breathe, leaning back to let him go.
“Son of a bitch,” he growls, standing to hold his hand out to me. “You’re getting pruney, and twitching. I want to get you under some blankets before I need to worry about shock, Pet.”
Not wanting to spend the night in the infirmary, I wrinkle my nose, taking his hand. Turning off the water, he grabs the towel I left outside of the shower to wrap it around me.
Picking all of my things up, he mutters, “Stick your feet into your flip-flops, I want you in your pajamas under the covers. You can’t miss class tonight, but I want to lay in bed with you to tell you a story. Maybe it’ll inspire you to tell me one.”
Nodding, I wince, and Sidney moves my neck carefully to stare at it. “It’s starting to bruise,” he grunts. There’s banked rage in his eyes, but he’s doing his best to hold it back. “I want to kill her. Mark my words, her days on this earth are numbered. Let’s get you warm, and talk about why I keep holding myself away from you, okay?”
A part of me desperately wants to know, so my feet follow him. It’s something to distract myself from the ache in my chest, and the pain Lana inflicted on me. Some people like to pull the wings off of butterflies, just to watch them suffer. While I think Sidney, Ayden, and Andrya may put themselves in this same category, I think there’s so much more to what makes them tick.
SIDNEY
I keep my breath controlled as I watch Silla walk ahead of me wrapped in a towel to her room. Thankfully, people aren’t in the residence halls right now, because it would lead to some awkward questions. I’m in my wet boxers, but I’ll throw my pants on without them once I’m in her room. I can’t say I care right now, because that black-haired witch hurt my girl.
I pushed Silla away, referring to my old ways of calling her “girl”, as if I couldn’t be bothered to use her name. The truth is, I didn’t want Lana to take an interest in my sea green eyed goddess. I failed in my efforts though, because something happened.
Pushing open the door, I follow Silla into her bedroom. Unbothered by her nudity, she drops her towel to pull on her pajamas. I care though, so I close the door as quickly as possible.
Class is one thing, but I don’t want anyone else to see her.
Shoving off my boxers, I turn slightly, just because I don’t want to flash my dick at her when she’s in this traumatized state. That’s not what I’m here for. Pulling on my pants without underwear, I turn back to her once I’m moderately covered.
Silla’s muscles aren’t working properly, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. I really am worried about shock right now. I don’t know if I should offer to help. Fuck, I want to scream or kill something. I’m not used to feeling so damn helpless.
When Silla gets frustrated with her sweater, I step in, gently helping her get it on.
“Hey,” I bark to get her attention. I’m a bit like a bull in a China shop right now, and the tether on my anger is fragile. Not at her, I could never be angry with her. As Silla looks up at me, the bruise looks even darker on her skin. Pulling out my phone, I text Andrya.
Please bring the arnica cream to Silla’s room. Don’t ask questions, don’t tell anyone.
Andrya: Perfect way to get me to panic, asshole.
My lips twitchbecause she’s right. It was an asshole move. However, there’s a fire lit under her ass now.
