HER || 18+ (Monsters #2) || Sequel to THEM

64 - What ifs

It's a war.
It's a battle of battered hearts.

. . .
Ashton Creed

When she woke up, there were marks of Xerxes's shirt on her face, and it had been hours since she had started sleeping.

She was having sleeping problems, that was obvious now.

Her eyes looked confused as she looked at me. I was sitting at her desk. And then Zavier, who was leaning against the wall beside her closed door.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She looked at Xerxes, who looked right back at her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked Zavier and me, her voice hoarse.

"We needed to talk to Xerxes about something," Zavier, eyes as soft as ever as he looked at her relaxed form. "Only to find him being used as a bed."

"A pillow."

"A body pillow."

"He's warm," she grumbled, still rubbing her eyes. She looked at the clock, which must have told her she slept for almost six hours. She grimaced and tried to get out of bed, but Xerxes gently tugged her back to his chest.

"Stay for a while," he muttered.

I ached to get in bed, too. To hold her against me and kiss her eyes that she had rubbed red. I knew from the clenching of Zavier's hands that he wanted the same.

"I need to work on a painting and we..." She hesitated. "We aren't supposed to do this."

"We can be friends," Zavier said.

She frowned. "Being friends was how we fell in...love." She mumbled the last word, as if not wanting to say it.

"We did," I said. "And if you think we are as incompatible as you said, we shouldn't work as friends either."

"A relationship is different than a friendship." She pushed herself off Xerxes and this time managed to get out of bed.

"I'm sorry for sleeping on you," she mumbled to Xerxes. "You should have woken me up."

"Now, why would I ever do that?" He sat up. "You fit into my arms quite perfectly, little girl."

Her cheek hollowed as if she was biting the inside of it. She had formed a habit of doing that, along with digging her teeth into the corner of her bottom lip till there was blood.

Those were a nod toward her slowly deteriorating mental health.

"Olivia," I said. "How about you sit down and we talk for a while? No touching, I promise."

Zavier gave a jerky nod of agreement, Xerxes laid back down on the bed, making himself comfortable against the headboard.

She sat down on a chair, pulling it away from the desk till we formed a rectangle.

"Okay," she said. "What do you want to talk about?" She asked.

Zavier looked at Xerxes and me. He was not the one who was going to mention it.

"We think," I began, hesitantly, because it was no longer my place to suggest anything.

I was a possessive man. But I was a man in love, too. I wanted her back, as soon as possible, but more than that - I wanted her well.

"Yes?" She asked.

"You should go to a shrink," Zavier finished my sentence in the worst way possible. My hand itched to throw something at his face.

Her eyes narrowed. "So something is wrong with me because I broke up with you three?" She demanded and I hated how pissed she seemed. While there were times when her anger amused me, I knew when it was serious. "That is so ridiculous. If there is one person who needs therapy the most in this room, it's you."