Seven

Chapter 72

The amount of times my mind has played this moment to itself could not prepare me. No amount of day dreaming, fantasying or imagining could brace me for the effect of what seeing him could do to me.

Because this is no dream, this is real life. I am awake and here he is, standing right in front of me.

Seven.

Since my eyes laid sight of him time itself feels as though it has slowed down. Seconds feel like minutes, the world around us revolves in slow motion as those hauntingly familiar green eyes look right through me, and I feel incredibly vulnerable to his acute gaze. All background noise drowns out and it's as if all I can comprehend is him.

Though I am in shock my mind is still able to register the slight differences in him. His cheekbones are sharper, a redness rims his irises and a shadow lingers under his sockets. Brown locks are slightly longer but there's familiarity in the way his unruly brown locks are pushed off his forehead in their usual swooping manner. In the black dress shirt, loose buttons hinting at the ink underneath. Tight black jeans and golden ringed fingers, it's as if my memory has painted the image of him just the way I had remembered. My Seven.

Though this isn't my Seven. He isn't mine anymore. He left me months ago. The reminder simply pricks at my eyes and I begin to feel the emotional turmoil harshly burning the shock away like an eroding acid. Quickly and painfully. With a step forward to me of his own, Seven's hands slightly raise, as if he's going to reach out to me and he speaks.

"Lilianna." The sound of his voice causes my stomach to leaden and suddenly makes this all too real, breaking me out the slow turning reality. Noise erupts back around us snapping my body forward and I dodge his advance to continue to the safety of the bathrooms. The entire exchange since spotting him is mere seconds but seconds are all it takes for the hurt to send a devastating wave crashing in.

I have no idea how I'm even still standing let alone briskly walking. My legs feel numb, I feel numb and I'm finding it incredibly difficult to catch my breath as I blink at the tears wanting to form. My sweaty palms press to the cold wood of the bathroom door and I'm thankful that the single stall is free so that I don't have an audience for this break down I'm teetering on the edge of. When I try close the door behind me it stops abruptly causing me to glance down at the black boot that's blocking the doorway. A hand soon manoeuvres between the open gap to push the door open further. I don't even need the gold rings to recognise those fingers.

I step away from the door, knowing I have no fight or strength in me to even attempt to force him out and take a few anxious breaths to try prepare myself for what is about to come.

Seven steps quickly into the small bathroom, his presence fills the space quickly and when he shuts the bathroom door behind him it traps me in the suffocating nervous energy that is bouncing around between us. When I hear the slide of the lock on the door I feel as though I might throw up from how fast my heart is beating. I can hear the beat behind my ears, feel my pulse in the pads of my fingertips as the pure panic sets in.

Like a serpent entering the mouse nest he confidently slithers around to face me. Sizing me up for his lethal strike. Only I'm not quite the same mouse he left four and a half months ago, well maybe in a lot of ways I still am but at least I need to make him think that I have changed. For my own protection, for my own sanity. He needs to think I'm indifferent to him now. He can't know about how awful those first few months were for me. I can't let him see how distressed I really feel, he can't know the effect his presence is having on me. A good facade is my only emotional defence, my only chance of getting through this encounter. I meet his eyes, forcing every ounce of hardness I can muster into my glare.