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seventy one | vision

Elijah's POV

She—aghhhh.

Why does she have to sound so cute when she cries? Why do I have to feel the need to protect her when she does this?

She doesn't need protecting.

I step closer. But—But maybe she does. Maybe it is because I left her alone all those years ago, that she felt she had no other option to survive. Maybe if her parents were good parents, she'd be normal. Maybe if she had been protected, she would have been happy now.

I take another step closer. It feels wrong to forgive her for something like this. More important than any other reason is that she put my baby sister in danger.

But she's still human. Before I started university—when I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life—I though a lot about purpose. I thought a lot about how some people are so busy surviving that they don't get to focus on anything else.

And I wondered if we have any control over it or if circumstance controls us. If we all looked the same and we were raised the same with the same genetics and placed in the same situations, wouldn't we do exactly the same things and think the same thoughts?

Maybe if I was completely alone and desperate, I'd have fallen into the same trap—especially because it was a trap, meant for her. Her own father.

I take another step closer. And another. Until I'm close enough to gently reach out and place my hand on her shoulder.

She jumps, turning around. Tears soak her face. "Elijah, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She wipes her face dry, but her body doesn't stop shaking. "I'll leave. I promise, you'll never have to see my face again."

"Good." My hand slips behind her neck, pulling her closer to me.

Frown lines form between her eyes. "Good, then."

"Yeah, good." My eyes fall to her lips. They're a deep pink. Maybe she bit them to stop the tears.

I miss those lips. They're intoxicating. I miss all of her. She's right here.

"There's nothing else, is there?" There are so many things that should be stopping me from doing this. "Nothing else that you are hiding."

She shakes her head, her curiosity turning to understanding. She's realising I am forgiving her. "No, I swear."

I brush my thumb against her cheeks gently, remembering how good it felt having her close to me.

She instantly moves in closer, wanting more of me.

There's so many things that I want to say to her. I'm still angry. I miss her. She's been on my mind more than anything. Work has felt so overwhelming and it feels like I have nothing else besides it.

I have my sister, but she's busy with school and then comes home and just wants to watch series or talk to her friends on the phone.

It's not how I thought it would be, taking care of my sister. I thought she'd tell me everything and want to spend all her time with me, but I guess she's not a baby anymore. She's becoming her own person and doesn't share much.

"Bree," I whisper her name against her lips.

This feels good. This is what I have wanted back for so long. But I pull back, the doubt still strong in my mind.

If I kiss her, I am going to feel everything that I used to. I'm going to love her. I'm not sure I can yet.

"Tell me something. What have I missed?" Maybe if she opens up to me and I remember her the way I used to, it'll make things feel more natural.