The Victim (Book #1)

Chapter 15

When the sobs had subsided and he was still just stroking my hair, he finally spoke.

"Were you going to run?" he asked, genuinely.

I stiffened, and then nodded. He stayed silent in response.

"Are you still going to?" he finally asked.

I looked up at him curiously. He was right here, how could I?

"I'll take you anywhere you need to go." He said with a solemn expression. "I just don't want to."

My heart filled with a flood of warmth at that and the tears started again, but softly this time. It wasn't like before, with Damon. It didn't cut me this time. It felt... good. I shook my head no into his chest.

"You'll stay?" he asked, as if he had hoped I would. I didn't know how he could hope for that. Why would he want me? I was broken... surely, he could see that.

I nodded, regardless. I would stay.

His arms tightened around me, almost to the point of uncomfortability.

"Good." He said firmly, before pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head.

We stayed like that for a while, breaking the pattern only to shift or pull closer to one another in the dim moonlight of the room.

"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked after a little while. I shook my head no, with my eyes wide. I didn't think that I could sleep.

"Okay then." He said, pulling away. He flicked on the lamp that rested beside the couch and leaned back on one armrest. I leaned back against the other, facing him, with my feet between his.

"What's up?" I asked nervously. My tears had all run out, and I was embarrassed that my face was surely puffy and red. I nonchalantly wiped the streaks of wetness from my cheeks with my sleeve.

"Not much." He said with a semblance of a smile.

"Why do you always do that?" I asked, exasperatedly. At least I felt back to normal at this point. I even felt a surge of relief as the flashback ended and I had recovered the world around me. So much better could I appreciate the beauty of safety when I remembered the pain of doubt and fear.

"What do I do?" he asked, one side of his cheek finally lifting.

"You keep all your emotions hidden! I want to know what you're actually thinking but you barely even smile! And when you do, I can't even tell if it's at me or with me and you're probably making fun of me or making an evil scheme, but I can't even tell!" I ranted, waving my arms. I had too much energy now. I brought my voice lower, remembering the other boys were asleep upstairs.

He nodded and considered that exaggeratedly, as if in deep thought.

"Definitely laughing at you." He said, after his careful consideration. One side of his cheek lifted once more.

I laughed aloud and grabbed a pillow, chucking it in his direction. He caught in too easily, and finally broke a grin.

"I don't like people to know what I'm feeling. We're similar in that way, I think." He said, looking at me as if he knew me.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Just a guess." He said with a shrug.

"Your guesses are pretty spot on, Mr. Empathy." I said, acknowledging the truth.

"I know." He said cockily, before falling silent once more. I slouched back on the couch as he did, deep in thought.

Suddenly, a question struck me that I couldn't believe I hadn't asked sooner.