When Grey Met Purple

Chapter 19

I let go of his hand backing away from him until I hit the fridge. He was looking right at me, his expression still unreadable. It was unnerving, and I felt my breath hitch. Blade didn’t make a move though, as if he was going to react upon my actions. I was grateful he was letting me freak out. At least I think he was.

I slid down the fridge and looked down at the floor as it was my most favourite thing in the world. And at the point it was. Anything but look straight into his eyes. His deep pools of warm purple.

“Cara…” I heard him start to say.

I held up my hand silencing him, “Shut the fuck up.”

As I wasn’t looking at his face I couldn’t see his expression. I could give a good guess though, and he looked pretty hurt. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t terrified, or just plain scared. Honestly, I just didn’t understand anything. My mind felt torn apart.

I raked my fingers through my hair, I could feel it shaking.

“Cara, just let me explain.” he pleaded, sinking down to his knees in front of me.

I glared up at him, feeling my temper spiking, “Can you not give me a minute here?!”

He immediately snapped his mouth shut, and sat in front of me, looking at me intently.

“It doesn’t help my thought process when you’re looking at me like that,” I scowled at him. He sighed getting up, and stood against the island looking out the woods. Lucky bastard, I was stuck looking at the floor.

I don’t understand why I should be freaking out in the first place, I mean, there could be a simple explanation for this right? Maybe a genetic anomaly… or maybe a mutant spider bite, or… or...

I groaned loudly. Why can’t my life ever be normal? Am I being punished by the higher powers? Is this some kind of sick twisted karmic justice?

Fuck. My. Life.

Realising that it would be so much easier getting an explanation than sitting around developing near to impossible theories, I got up off the floor, turned around and opened the fridge door looking for something to drink.

Against the wishes of my brain, I grabbed the bottle of vodka, and thankfully opened it with ease. I’m not a big drinker, mainly because I have a low tolerance for alcohol, and also because I’m a little... crazy drunk.

I held it to my lips and downed a mouthful, feeling it burn against my throat. I scrunched my face in disgust. It did its job though; the feeling went straight to my head.

I set the bottle on the island top; the glass clinked against the smooth black marble.

“Okay, hit me,” I urged, finally feeling up for an explanation, probably the immediate effect of alcohol on my blood stream.

Blade looked at the vodka bottle frowning, “You don’t drink.”

I shot him a glare, “Do you really think that this is the time?”

“Sorry.”

I waved my hand offhandedly.

Blade sighed, “I don’t know where to begin.”

“The beginning would be a good idea,” I suggested sarcastically.

“Not helping Cara,” Blade said frustrated.

“Not trying to help,” I stated taking another large gulp of vodka, hissing as it passed down my oesophagus.

“Why don’t we go sit down?” Blade suggested, gesturing towards the inviting couches.