Haven • H.S.

39. Play the Game

Haven- 39

"...if you must mourn, mourn with the moon and stars up above... if you must die, sweetheart, die knowing your life was my life's best part..."

Ella.

My face was burning. My head was throbbing. My heart was beating wildly enough to feel it in every limb. Bu-dump, bu-dump, bu-dump. And faster then, when Niall looked up from his spot across from me.

Worst of all? I had to pee. Bad.

Okay. So maybe that wasn't the worst of my situation, but it was relevant.

There was a door in this room that suggested it might've been a bathroom, and the curiosity to confirm that became a need.

I opened my mouth, testing the waters. If he yelled at me from merely attempting to talk, we would have issues. Luckily, he only lifted an eyebrow in controlled amusement.

I tried, "I have to pee."

He watched me for a long, bated moment. "Oh, really?"

My features compressed. Did he think I was joking? I wish.

"Yes." My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. Someone afraid; scared. Someone speaking through shaky lips. I realized, painfully, that that was me.

"And then, what? You hit me behind my head while I'm not looking?" he sneered. "Run away? Try to find your little boy-toy?"

"Well, shit, all I had to do was use the bathroom. But you paint a pretty picture now that I think about it."

In what felt like only a gust of wind, he crossed the room, a fistful of my hair already angling me to his face. "I never knew you had such a mouth on you," he whispered sardonically. My jaw clenched, my eyes watered. "Seems to me we could put it to good use, don't you think?"

Along with my burning cheek, victim to his knuckles only minutes ago, my head was burning too. And with the overwhelming pressure that came with my bladder's fullness, I was finding the idea of hitting him upside his head far too satisfying.

I wriggled, hating the force he had on me. I didn't want to see his face. Not like this, not ever again. "Let me go."

He laughed, the sound tormenting to my ears. "I think I could be on to something... What do you think?" With his free hand, he reached to trace the skin of my uninjured cheek. "Test out that little mouth, hmm?"

"No," I spat, hating the panic rising in me. "I just need to use the bathroom. Don't do this Niall, please."

I swore I was dreaming when he bent at the knees, bringing our faces inches apart. His eyes, the cold, calculating blue challenged my memory with what felt more familiar; the warm cerulean that I saw everyday for the past few months. The lie. The lie was in his eyes. I'd trusted them so fully; the warmth, and the happiness that always radiated from them.

Now, his face so close to mine, his breath wind against my mouth, I could've been fooled that there was a flash of that sun, only for just a second by my words. And goddammit, my eyes burned from the betrayal of this man, from the fact that it was all in my imagination.

I've given up on the possibility of good in this human.

"You have no idea," he started quietly. "I wanted it to be us... I wanted to make something good. Just you and me. We could've taken on the world, Ella. Why did it have to be him? Why is it always him?"

I didn't like the calm tremor to his voice. More than that, I hated that his anger was only roaring to a boil just beneath every word. The calm before the storm.