Caius (OLD VERSION)

Chapter Ten

Hello my lovelies! Double upload this week because I know I've been a tad slack on the uploading game. As usual this chapter is unedited, but never the less, I hope you enjoy. :) x

Previously:

"I promise." I quickly whispered. I wasn't sure what I was promising, but my instincts became clear when he paused in that moment. His eyes had shone with such raw emotion. He pursed his lips together before closing his eyes and leaning his forehead on mine. And with a simple, almost silent "thank you" he turned and walked out of the room.

The night was cold. I lay on my bed staring at the lines in the ceiling for minutes, maybe even hours , you could never be too sure as your world is consumed in emotional darkness as well as the dim light which shine through you windows at night. The moon was awake, it bright glow smearing my room in dull grey tones as I stared up. I lay flat on the bed, my head the opposite end to the pillow. How could a ceiling, something so insignificant and present be so forgotten? I imagined pictures in the bland white canvas which lay above me. I could picture vines of colour splashing at the ceiling, a moody array of black swirls and deep red splatter. I closed my eyes before snapping them open and fetching my paints.

I stood in my room wearing an old white tee and my dungarees. Never had I thought I would be standing in my bedroom at two in the morning, my hand clutching a weapon of mass beauty. The paint brush in my hand was both the creator of a message and my important link between thought and expression. My mind was so filled to the brim with both imagination and worry. I had let my thoughts consume me, my worries tipping the balance and as I clutched the paint brush in my hand, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Placing a sheet from the cupboard down onto the floor, I stepped over to the chair. Dragging it across the room, I lined it up with my bed. Ripping my duvet off my bed, the mattress was shoved against the door. The bare skeleton of my bedframe gave the room a kind of freeing effect. I was going to free my thoughts which had me dead inside. All my woes will be gone in a second, I thought, and I relished in the possibility as I dipped my brush into the paint, climbed onto the desk letting my thoughts take the first strokes.

As I painted, my mind cleared. I could imagine all my thought leave me and transfer onto the ceiling. Paint dripped onto my clothes as I lifted my hand. All my hurt, all my worry all slowly built, my painting becoming less clean. I hit the ceiling with my brush as I shook. Anger built up. Tears filled my vision as I continued to paint.

I cried as I slammed the paint onto the dull, white wall. Cries shook my body as I crumbled into a sense of black. I continued painting. This was my release. The release I had been craving over the years. I thought about my dad. Splat. I thought of Emilia. Swipe. I thought of all the pain and torture which I had been accustom to over the years from my mother dying to the beatings I would receive from my father. From someone else's anger and frustration, my mind became emotionally crippled with their hurt as well. I couldn't control it. I thought of Caius. How he had held me the first time was met. How he had contained all the things I was lacking in my life. How I had trusted hi the second I had opened the café door that night. Or when he came back for me and held me as I cried. I thought of life.

I thought of death, all the thoughts which had haunted me over the years as I came to the conclusion that the world would be better without me in it. How no one had cared until Caius. Caius.

My hand paused. The tears which had been rolling down my cheeks dripped down, but no more followed. What was it about him? Why was he doing this to me? Why did I feel that nervousness in the pit of my stomach whenever he came close? Why did I melt in his arms like he was my saviour? I shook my head. Stop thinking foolishly, Clara, if you fall too deep, who would catch you?