Splintered Illusion

» eighteen «

I squirmed in the person's tight hold, trying to escape and ignoring the feeling of nausea that came with it. I was slammed roughly against the wall, my collarbone erupting with pain as my eyes trailed up.

I visibly relaxed at the sight of him, letting out a relieved sigh as the adrenaline rush from before left my body just like that. Slumping against the wall, I pried his hands off of my mouth and said, "Puck," my voice breathless and glad.

His dark eyes bored into me. "Finally," he hissed, his voice a whisper, "it's kind of hard to get you under control when you're like that."

Despite the situation we were in, a smile still broke out on my face. "You still managed."

"I did," he said, fighting a grin, a dangerous glint to his dark eyes. Our breaths mingled as we stared at each other, silent for a moment in which Puck let me catch my breath before pulling me to his chest and squashing me in a tight hug. "Fuck - I was so worried. Do you know how worried I was?"

I giggled, the sound muffled by his shirt, my face pressed up against his chest. "I can tell." There was a pause. I sighed and lifted my own arms to embrace him back. "I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I guess I should've listened to you, but I..."

"You guess?" Puck asked incredulously. "You damn well should've! Fuck. When I found those pictures on the ground... God, I - That's what you needed to talk to me about, wasn't it?" I nodded against his chest, felt the way he buried his face in my neck and squeezed me tighter at my response. "I'm so fucking sorry."

I pulled away from him and looked up at him in shock. "Puck. What? That wasn't your fault. If anything, it was mines. I should've stayed in the alley like you told me to."

"That wouldn't have mattered either way," Puck argued, his expression troubled. "I roped you into all of this. They stalked you because of me. Kidnapped you because of me. All of this is because of me."

I shook my head, a frown adorning my features as I felt his hands squeezing my waist. "Stop blaming yourself for everything."

"But I'm the one to be blamed!" he exclaimed angrily, his voice rising and his thick brows furrowing downwards as he pulled away from me abruptly. His hands went to his hair, running through them in a haze of distress.

I sighed, figuring that he didn't want me to convince him otherwise as of right now and leaned back against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. "What does your father want anyway?" At his surprised look, I elaborated, "He said something about kidnapping me to get you back because you...," I trailed off, deciding not to tell him about the part where his father said Puck liked me, warmth rising to my cheeks at the recollection.

"Yeah... It's a long story. I --"

But Puck didn't get to finish because right at that moment, alarms started blaring all throughout the building, the sound loud and pounding its way into my ears, further worsening the ache in my temple.

They knew.

I looked to Puck in alarm, and he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, his dark eyes looking me right in the eye. "Later, okay?" he promised and I nodded. "We need to get out of here. Come on." He pulled me towards the door, peeking out of it to make sure the coast was clear before pulling me out with him.

We rushed through the hallways at top speed, our steps hasty and breathing - mines, mostly - panicked. My hand was in Puck's as he led me around passages, keeping our heads down as we kept to the walls in case someone turned a corner and spotted us.

But it was inevitable.

"Hey!" someone shouted from behind us.

Puck and I both made the mistake of turning to look, and watched in dismay as his eyes widened in recognition. He opened his mouth, about to shout - most likely to call backup - but just as suddenly, something lodged itself into the back of his head, and he crumpled to the ground, revealing a man around Puck's age, give or take, with a pack of darts in his hands.