VOCOM

chapter XXII

He pulled away, carefully looking over my expression. I hoped the confusion that I was showing earlier was gone, because I certainly felt clearer.

"Quintley," I whispered. "We . . . we can't . . . ."

"What?" he said quietly after a moment. "Be together?"

I hesitated before nodding my head.

"That's rubbish!" he immediately replied, still quiet. "There's absolutely no reason why we can't-"

"Kortan owns us, Quintley. He always will, until we kill him." I glanced at my left wrist pointedly. "It's not a matter of getting to do whatever we want."

"But after that?" he was hardly audible.

"I . . . don't know."

"You're scared. You're afraid I'll be taken away like everyone else was."

I gave him a hard stare, unsure if I wanted to accept this truth or not. I was almost angry with what he had said, but there was no sense in getting mad at something that was undeniable. Of course I was afraid of losing him, he was the only person left in my small life. If he was dead, then I'd have probably been wandering about in my own world, without a concern for anyone outside of myself. I'd still be lost and confused about my purpose of existence with Kortan.

"That's it," he decided. "It's the truth."

I took a deep breath. "Quintley, you're my friend." I was proud for not stumbling on that word for once. "Of course I'd be afraid."

"Yet you face your own death in the matter of things. You're too walled up inside."

Well, duh. I shook my head and sat back down on the couch, him following shortly afterwards. We sat for the longest time in silence, awkwardly so and without a reasonable topic to converse on.

He reached out and tucked a loose bang behind my ear. I didn't dare glance up at him. I hadn't been acted towards this way in a long time, and it was making my stomach nervous with my realization that this was Quintley.

"What's wrong?" he asked, obviously watching my every expression.

I still didn't meet his eyes. He was sitting really close to me, and I could tell that the way his hand lingered on my hair that he wanted to do more, that he thought more of me and that he was restraining himself a great deal.

I just shook my head, to give an answer. My cheeks were heating up and that only added to my embarrassment. I didn't think I could do it with him, even though the fact that I hadn't done so in years and he was in fact handsome, beneath his awkward self, was pushing me to say maybe. If it hadn't been so long, I'd be able to say no, no problem, but now it just seemed like I needed it.

"Hey," he said quietly.

I looked up finally, thinking maybe he could distract me with his chatter. But he was less talkative now. He was smiling amiably at me, his arm on the back of the couch and his body fully facing me. Hazel's necklace suddenly felt heavy around my collarbone.

I wrapped my arms around my legs, them being drawn nearly to my chin. I was keeping myself in a sort of protective ball. The anger I felt earlier had been replaced by a sort of need, by a sort of want that I wanted nothing more than to ignore. "Yeah?"

"C'mon, Vera, don't be all bundled up like that." He smirked and drew my arm away from my legs. He pulled me towards him.

My heart beat in my throat as I turned my back to him and leaned against his chest, his arm wrapping around me.

I clenched my jaw.

"You seem so uncomfortable. Certainly you've done this before."

"Ten years ago." I mumbled. "This isn't new for me." I added defensively.