A War of Guns and Roses

Chapter 40

"She always was smiling," he muttered.

"Yes, she was but anyone could see that she was lonely. Before you, she never had many boyfriends. Never cared for anyone as much as she cares for you."

"This is really not helping me right now," he pointed out.

Sometimes I really wonder whether this man had any emotions at all.

I wish you all the very best, my favorite and only cousin.

I sighed. "You're impossible, you know that?" I told him.

He nodded and I blinked. This man really was something.

Suddenly, as if compelled to, Xavier spoke,

"None of this means that we aren't enemies," he warned Ivan and I.

Ivan nodded. "Of course. I don't think I could ever take a liking to you. Even if I tried."

Xavier nodded, as if to say 'the feeling's mutual'.

"Doesn't that mean that Elaine is technically your enemy too?" I asked, one eyebrow arched.

He stiffened. "She didn't know."

"Doesn't mean that she's not, right?" I knew I was testing him but it was fun. I could see why Elaine liked to piss him off so much.

He gave me a hard stare.

Okay, it wasn't fun anymore. Not when he was looking at me like all he wanted to do was rip my limbs off and fry them before dipping them in my blood as sauce and consuming it.

I shuddered. Too wild.

An uncomfortable silence ensured. But before either Ivan or I could say anything, Xavier quickly ordered,

"Inform me when she gets home."

Ivan scowled at the domineering tone that he used but nodded. And then, without another word, all of us were on our way.

I already knew that I was late beyond help and couldn't really be bothered to get scolded and then study again, so I made my way to my newly found hiding place.

It was a place that Elaine had showed me and she had said that as far as she knew, no one knew about it, okay not exactly. It was an attic kinda thing at the top floor.

She had said that before it had been used as a storage room, but then, a few years back, something very...incidental had taken place.

A fellow student who had been bullied her whole life had hidden out in the attic. No one knew about it, so they had no idea that she was in there. Months later, many students started reporting about a pungent smell whenever passing the corridor that lead to the attic.

The caretaker got investigating and the next thing everyone knows is that someone had committed suicide in that attic. So no one even stepped foot into that thing again.

But it was truly a beautiful place. The attic's huge window offered a beautiful view of the jungle and surprisingly, far away mountains of which only faint outlines were visible.

So I headed up and after dodging the hall monitors, I reached my safe haven; in school at least.

As I marched over to the window, I took in the other inhabitants of my refuge. Broken tables and chairs littered the corners of the room, layers and layers upon dust settled on them. A beanbag sat right in front of the window, one of my own additions. Don't ask me how I got the beanbag.