The Elysium [ON HOLD]

~ f o u r t e e n ~

"First of all, that's mean," I say, "Secondly, I have no idea. Probably found someone funner than me." I laugh.

"Yeah, I can understand."

"Hey, that's mean!"

He smirks, "Alright, I'm kidding. To be honest Rae-Rae, the times I spend with you on the hood of the Bentley are the best parts of my day."

The words send a strange surge of warmth through me, which lasts for one single fleeting second before it's gone. When I look back at him, there's nothing but the plain aching essence of the words hanging in the air.

He spots me staring at him. His broad smile subsides a little. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I mutter, tearing my gaze away, then hesitating a little before I say, "That's what Mom used to call me."

"Oh," Mark says, taken aback, "I'm sorry."

I take a deep breath and focus on the glissade of cascading hues reflecting down on the waters of the Central fountain. For a minute, we both fall silent with only the sound of occasional distant laughter and soft flowing music being heard.

"You wanted to know how she died," I say.

Mark looks at me.

"Well...I was nine," I pause and take a deep breath again, "I woke up one morning and couldn't find her anywhere. I searched the house, I called for her, but she didn't answer. Then I went into the garden shed," I gulp, "And there she was. Hanging from one of the wooden panels. A chair lay upturned beneath her feet. She looked so cold and limp," My lips tremble as I speak, "I felt so helpless, Mark. I felt so...scared."

Hell yes, I remember this feeling.

I like to think of it as an extremely miniscule neutron star growing into a black hole right in the centre of my gut, then pulling in all the intestines, arteries and organs into itself; which go twisting and churning in till there is nothing left of me anymore.

"Rachael," Mark's voice sounds distant.

"For seven years," My voice is barely a whisper, "I've been trying to figure out why she would kill herself...and I still don't have the answer. Where did I go wrong? Was I not good enough?"

The sparkling city lights suddenly blur up as my eyes sting with hot tears.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Rachael," I avoid eye contact with Mark as I don't want him to see the moisture in my eyes, "Maybe there were things you didn't know about her."

"Apparently there were. Dad never talks about her. I feel like... " I force a laugh, "I feel like I never even knew her. The woman I knew was so smart, beautiful and strong. She was my hero. Why didn't she talk to me about it? Why didn't she get help? I loved her so much and what did she do? Leave me with her fucking corpse."

Hot tears stream plainly down my cheeks. The sickening ache in my heart tightens, making it hard to breathe.

"Rachael," Mark wraps his arm gently around me, "It's okay."

I bury my face into the warmth of his chest as he strokes my hair lightly.

"I deserve an answer," I say through muffled tears.

"Some mysteries are better kept unanswered. Your mother loved you, Rachael. It wasn't any of your fault."

I lift my face and wipe the tears away, embarrassed at myself. I look at Mark and he gives me a tiny smile.

"Sorry," I say, "I'm ruining your night."

"You couldn't even if you tried," Mark smiles. He looks at me right in the eye with his firm blue gaze. I tear my eyes away.

"You know, I'm not mad at Rowan and Andrea anymore," I say quietly, "I guess I understand now. People change; they move on. For their own good. Maybe they can't help the way they feel."

I steal a glance at Mark and bite my lip. He is just so beautiful. His gaze is still fixed on mine.

"I've been feeling things too, Mark," my voice trembles slightly, "Wrong feelings."

"What are they saying?" he asks.

I look up at him and gulp.

"Right now they're telling me to kiss you." 

Mark's face is unreadable. He looks at me with a cold unwavering scent in his eyes. His brows are slightly creased and his jaw line looks tensed.

He suddenly cups the side of my face with one hand and places the other lightly around my waist. I clasp the shirt over his firm chest. Our breaths are stressed and hot against each other's skin as we inch closer. I part my lips as Mark leans in and kisses them slowly, each brush coursing through my body like electricity.

The warmth lasts merely for a moment before vanishing in a cold blow –

"What the actual fuck?"

We both pull apart in a jolt, only to be faced with Jac standing a few feet in front of us with her stilettos dangling from one hand.

"Jac," Mark immediately lets go of me and stands up on his feet, "I, uh – "

"You know what?" Jac's voice is boiling with rage and hurt as she looks between me and Mark, "Just forget it." She turns around and storms off.

"Jac, no, wait!" Mark begins to take off after her.

"Mark!" I say and he turns back, "I'm sorry."

He opens his mouth to say something then closes it.

"Me too," he says softly after a while, before disappearing after Jac into the night.