His Collection

SIX

I felt the soft pillows once more. Slowly opening my eyes to endless patterns of insects, and flowers that were frozen in flight on each cushion, I then felt the soft sun's warmth descend upon my cheek. Birds chirped that song only sung in mornings, and it came to mind that I had blacked out another day.

A new day. That makes it two days of being away from home, my parents, and from Kyle.

As a way to cope, I snuggled deep into the pillows. A certain pressure spread through my waist, something --someone was holding me. I snap my head up, and came face to face with what I perceived first to be another pillow with a larger butterfly or moth on the center, but as I noticed lips part and eyes slightly open, it was clear this was a person's face. A young man.

It's called something...is it vitiligo?

My eyes stayed wide trying to collect my emotions, making sure I didn't act out on anything stupid, such as hysterically screaming out of the truck. I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.

"Try not to pass out once again, Blanca," he said in a low husky voice due to staying up and watching over me. Clearly he was going to do a better job than Alice.

Where was she now anyway?

He closed his eyes, giving them a rest, but continued to breathe calmly as I took into detail his face.

Where have I seen it?

His skin was a marvel all on its own, one I hadn't ever seen in person; the pattern he possesed was almost like a Rorschach Test, though the only thing that could come to mind was a precious butterfly with its wings spread across his brows and cheeks. His regular skin tone was a sun-kissed peach color, the butterfly pattern itself was a pale, polished marbel, and it continued down his neck and around his ears.

I swallowed while my eyes noticed how close we were, and how he leaning even more towards me; letting his head bob down to my neck. Stiffening, I pulled up a sheet to my chest, so much panic was begining to bubble at the pit of my self-assuring mind.

"Just go back to sleep. I like this," he whispered into my neck, brushing his cheek on my shoulder. His sandy blond hair rested near my temple, and his arm gave me a squeeze soft enought to assure me he wasn't going to do anything rough, but strong enough to have me recognize he was physically capable of over-powering me.

I am in danger. That was all that a voice was hollering in my mind. I am in danger. This is not safe. This is not right.

Balling up my fists, I move my head away from his, but he scoots me back. He was able to turn me around and keep my head at his chest; without much effort once again he found a place to rest his head. I had been held like this before, so many times actually, by Kyle, so it wasn't an odd thing for my body. The only thing was that mentally I was furious, but my body was enjoying it. This embrace was calming me, and it was ticking me off that it did.

Again I tried to remember where I had seen the outline of his face. Not even the voice seemed clear, especially when he wasn't speaking crystal clear since he wasn't fully awake.

"I want to get up," I said coldy, then told my mouth to keep going. "I want to go home, now."

"My, you finally found your voice," He responded while my eyes widen. Now it was smooth, now I knew the voice.

"Lance," I gasped out quietly.

"Big surprise, right."

"How --how did I end up here? Where's Kyle, is he all right?!" I quickly spoke, then pushed him back with my arm to see his facial expressions. With a lazy look, he peered down. Using his hazel eyes to judge mine, he then lowered his face to mine till we were inches apart.

"He's all right. They rushed him to the hospital. I had called after taking you."

After taking you. That didn't sound right, and he could tell that I was confused and in need of more information than that. I wasn't credulous, or naive.

"Why did you take me." It wasn't a question, but more of an order to know. A quick raise of his patchy white brow, and a tilt of his head, he then gave a cocky smirk. I furrowed my brows.

Why is he looking at me like that?

"This isn't funny." I said while his eyes became gold as light entered them. Again, I pressed at his chest to create distance but my weak arms couldn't take it much longer before going limp. He stayed still while I went back and forth between his eyes to collect some sort of reaction. Finally, I asked again, this time, with a soft tone. "Lance, why did you take me?"

"You were going to die."

Liar. I wasn't.

Sure I was pretty banged up and bruised, but not headed for my deathbed anytime soon. He became aware of my uncertainty then took hold of my chin.

"All right, you could have died." He softened his eyes as he let those hushes slip out those lips of his.

I'm done.

He wasn't going to simple put it in one damn sentence where the hell I was, and why. Quickly slapping his hand away -thank you, arm, for finally functioning-  I then did the best to lift myself up. He didn't stop me; simply did the same, and waited for me to ask another question.

"Help me down," I said, then quickly added a 'please'. I wanted to be as calm and chill as possible, even if the situation was becoming a big red alert light in my head. He's dangerous, I know it.

Lance went on his knees, and scooped me up. The sudden rush scared me, and I jolted right into his chest with my arms around his neck. He stood up, then as gentle as he could, hopped out the truck. Once he stopped moving, I placed one foot down; softly this time. I refused to make the same mistake again -rushing off and blacking out.

As I stood all on my own, I could see just how stained my clothes were; it was a bloody mess, and it wasn't even all mine. I took a few slow steps away from him, and looked around. I still couldn't see anything but woods at the end of the valleys.

I feel stuck as tears begin to form. I ask the one question I didn't want to, and it came out more as a statment again.

"You're not planning on letting me go, are you."