Splintered Illusion

» eleven «

"Polly," he said, gulping as he allowed his eyes to wander all over my body. He looked like he hadn't shaved or slept in days, his hair a rumpled mess and dark bags adorning the space under his eyes.

Shivering, I wrapped the blanket around me tighter as I leaned back into the wall and swallowed through the lump in my throat. "Why are you here?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"We need to talk." His voice was much more firmer, though I could see the frantic, hurt look in his eyes. "What were you doing with... With him?"

Anger coursed through my veins. "It's none of your business," I snapped, though regretted it immediately when I saw him flinch.

"Look, Polly," he sighed, throwing his hands up in surrender, "I'm not here to fight. I just want to talk."

I glared at him. "There's nothing to talk about."

Puck's eyes darkened and he clenched his jaw. "You know damn well that there is," he growled, his hands balling into fists atop the kitchen island.

I tightened my hold on the blanket, wanting nothing but to get away from this conversation - wanting to get away from him. My eyes strayed to the staircase, an idea lighting itself in my head. When I looked back at Puck, he was watching me with keen eyes.

It was only but a second's hesitation - a second that costed the element of surprise in my plan as Puck's eyes lighted with malice.

Letting go of the blanket, I let it fall to the ground around my feet, and bolted towards the staircase.

The sound of Puck's footsteps on my heels had me boosting my speed. Short, ragged breaths forced their way from my mouth as black dots spotted my vision. Through the haze, I trained my eyes on my bedroom.

Just a few more feet, I thought, forcing my legs to move through the nauseous-ness.

But just as I made it an inch from my bedroom, my eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I collapsed.

»« »« »«

Blurred, dark irises were the first thing I was met with upon rousing, concern shining deep in them as they peered down at me. I squinted against the bright lights of my room, ignoring the muffled voice beside me. I couldn't understand a thing the voice was saying - it was as if I was underwater.

A deep sigh left my mouth as I shut my eyes again, the muffled voice getting frantic from over me. A cool palm was placed on my cheek and only then did I realize how hot I felt. I kicked at the blanket that covered my body, frustration bubbling up inside of me when it tangled around my legs.

A wave of panic washed over when it wouldn't untangle, and I started thrashing around in the bed.

"Polly," I finally heard Puck's voice. "Polly, stop moving." His hands wrapped around the blanket and he pulled it free from where it strangled my body.

A sigh of relief left my lips as my eyes finally started adjusting to my surroundings. I was lying on my bed, in my room, where Puck stood over me, his eyes staring down at me worriedly.

"What happened?" I asked quietly, letting my wander around.

From beside me, I felt Puck crouch down so he was eye-level with me. I turned and met his dark orbs. "You fainted," he explained, an edge to his voice, "I know you haven't eaten in days, Polly. In days! Your fridge is empty, you're skin is white as snow and you've been unconscious for four fucking hours!"

I glared at him. He glared right back, letting out an angry groan when I turned on my side, my back to him.

"Don't shut me out," he exclaimed, walking over to the other side of the bed so I was facing him. "This - this is wrong."

I snorted. How ironic that he was differentiating between right and wrong when he himself committed wrong everyday. "I can take care of myself," I told him, rolling my eyes.

"Polly," Puck said, my name like a plea on his lips, "let me take care of you."

"Just like you've taken care of me all these years?" I shot back, my eyes hardened.

Hurt and regret washed over Puck's features, but it was gone just as soon as it came. He pulled on an impassive expression and reached down to pull me out of bed. I protested, kicking and yelling at him to let me go, but he was just too strong.

"Get ready," he demanded, "I'm taking you out to eat."

»« »« »«

Puck's car pulled up in front of a diner I'd never seen around town. I frowned, sinking into my seat when I realized it wasn't owned by his family - because if it was, there'd be scary looking people lurking around, all there for only one thing: business.

But you could tell that one radiated warmth and happiness from even outside. The interior could only be described as majestic, mahogany flooring all throughout the diner with cute little booths scattered everywhere. There were even fairy lights lining the sides of the walls and ceiling, lighting up the diner even more.

A small bubble of elation swelled inside me. Despite being there with someone I didn't want to be there with, the place was enough to lift my mood with it's beautiful aura.

"You like it?" Puck whispered, his breath fanning over my ear.

I turned to him, questions of his motives arising in my head. "Why are we here, Puck?"

"For food...?" Puck said, his face contorting into a confused expression. If I didn't dislike him so much, I probably would have laughed at how adorable he looked.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Why are we really here? Why didn't you just take me to one of your family's restaurants?"

Puck sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he placed his other one on my back to lead me to a booth. "Despite what you might think, being there doesn't make me so happy... Or you."

I didn't say anything after that, silently taking the menu that he handed me as we settled into our booth, both across from each other. Just reading the name of the dishes had my stomach stirring, and I felt compelled to order everything. But when a kind, old woman came to take our orders, I quietly asked for one dish.

"Polly," Puck finally said, breaking the thick tension between us as the woman took her leave. I rolled my eyes at his continuous use of my name. "We need to talk."

I let out an aggravated breath. And here I thought I'd be able to enjoy my first meal in days in peace. "What do you want, Puck?"

His deep, dark irises bored a hole into me. And his next words were only but a whisper. "A chance."

Unable to update yesterday because power went out, sorry :(