III

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"Hey, hey, hey!" Their tone spoke in a manor of urgency, a sense of worry in their voice. Three consecutive snaps were heard to the left of my aching head, my brain slowly registering the movements the person crouched in front of me made.

They had snapped their fingers, successfully keeping me conscious as I stared at their face. I probably looked awful, confused and scared to the bone, but by the look in their eyes, it was nothing they hadn't seen before.

I brought myself up, their hand still placed at the centre of my back. It felt uncomfortable to me as I had urged to overcome the pain and figure things out for myself. I shrugged them off and rested my weight on my hands positioned behind my back, laying flat on the hard floor.

"Are you okay?" The voice was masculine, but it was very soft and welcoming. He seemed a bit taken aback by my actions as he had turned his head for a brief moment, perhaps seeking reassurance or to cover embarrassment.

I took a long look at his face. His eyes were brown, and had a soft spark in each eye. Harsh freckled were sprawled across his cheeks and ran along his nose, they were definitely a distinct feature to his face.

His hair was a dark shade of brown, almost black but not quite. It overhung slightly as curtains but hadn't grown out enough to be classified as so.

It appeared his facial expression was always plastered with a certain form of worry, but his stance and smile indicated a good form of leadership and reassurance.

"Are you hurt?" He attempted to make some form of communication with me once again, his determination to check on my health was clear.

"Stupid question..." I muttered, shifting my weight to my left hand, bringing up my other hand to rest on my forehead. It was a burning hot feeling as I lay my palm against my skin, the pain was yet to kick in.

The boy once again turned his head to face the doorframe, but this time I saw why. Another figure leant up against the frame, one foot pressed against it and slightly raised up. His arms were crossed and he looked unbothered by his stance.

"Well, is she okay?" He spoke, his grip tensing on his arms.

"I don't think so, she looks a proper state." Replied the boy next to me, he let out a soft laugh and a jovial smile at his own remark, I figured it was an attempt to get a positive reaction out of me but I was too stunned to tell or react.

"Come on, can you stand?" He said, not much of a request by any means, telling by the tone of his voice. He still sounded completely harmless, and friendly, but his attitude of leadership was enough to convince myself to try and stand up.

I looked up at him for a few seconds, my head tilting slightly as I prepared myself psychically. I looked down and planted one foot on the ground, soon after, a hand extended out in front of my eye sight.

I examined it for a brief moment, before raising my hand to meet it. When my palm felt his, it was warm, and comforting.

Shortly after, I was hoisted to my feet, but I hadn't expected it to come so early. I stumbled a little too far forward- almost causing myself to fall over my feet.

However, I was caught by the boy as he looked down upon me. "Watch your feet." He said, his eyes fixed on mine as he raised an eyebrow.

A breathe escaped my mouth and I took a few steps away from him. The change in warmth from when he was holding me to now was significant. His presence was comforting, and favourable.

It was clear he was rather taken aback by my quick retaliation to his support, but I wasn't going to be babied back into better health. I felt the bandage from my head slip slightly, its grip around my forehead had been loosened from my sudden movements.

I lifted my hands to tighten it, my fingertips tracing from the front of the fabric and circling round until my fingers met at the knot at the back. I pulled on the strand on fabric and felt the material tighten significantly around my forehead. The whole time this action took place, I felt two pairs of eyes watching me throughout the process, the dark brown short-haired boy with freckles, or the unknown figure in the doorframe, who was no longer leant up against it.

At least now I could get a better look at him, my vision was no longer completely clouded like how it was a few minutes ago, with that in mind, my eyes drifted to his face. His first feature that stood out most to me was his hair, it was a light brown on top- styled in an undercut as his hair was a dark brown beneath it. His sideburns reached in line with the bottom of his ears, my sight than wandered to his eyes. They had a vicious look about them, brown and harsh. Intense.

Their clothing attire looked familiar to mine, the boy at the doorframe wore a white long-sleeved shirt with a collar that folded upwards instead of down. Over the top of this shirt, he wore a brown sleeveless waistcoat. Both of these suited him well. As my eyes returned to the one with the freckles, I noticed his fit was in the same style- however he wore a simple button-up white shirt that was rolled at the sleeves.

Once I'd wasted a few seconds examining, I swallowed and repositioned myself on my feet- one angled sideways and the other facing forward, my weight balanced between my legs.

"Somehow or another, you remind me of a guy I hate." Spoke the boy at the doorframe, brushing down his clothes as he advanced forward.

"Jean!" Spoke the boy closest to me, trying to compose his friend.

"What? she does, being difficult all the time." He let out a loud sigh before continuing on with his rant. "Thought we were being nice, coming in to check on you." He smiled widely, but not in friendliness, more in a sense of spite.

"And we're doing just that." He responded, turning his head round to face me again. "You suffered quite the heavy blow, right?" He turned his hands against one another, and placed them together, so his fingers felt the palm of the other hand.

To be honest, I was struck for words. In a state of consternation, I opened my mouth to speak- but words were unable to form at my lips. I decided to swallow my tongue, bringing up my hand in a fist to press against my lips, my other hand wrapping around my chest. My posture and bearing showed major signs of weakness, but in a time like this, there was nothing that could be said or done to make me appear strong.

"Jean!" was heard from outside the room, and the boy at the doorframe turned his head, smiled, and then walked out of the room- the door shutting behind him as he left. His presence left as quickly and unnoticeably as it entered.

My feet remained fixed on the ground, looking between the boy with freckles and the doorframe to were 'Jean' had left. I wasn't sure what my plan was in this moment, did I try and make a run for it? or talk things out with him? but, what was there to be said?

"I'm Marco." The voice was sudden, and I hadn't expected him to speak, but when it broke the silence between us, I was almost glad.

The name suited him well, it fit his smile and his well-being all together. As far as I was concerned, he proposed no threat, and I appreciated him for that.

I re-angled my body to relax, my hands dropping back down to my sides. It was most definitely my turn to speak now, the anticipation growing stronger between us.

Marco raised his eyebrows slightly, in hope I would say something, but the disappointment that fell upon his face was clear. "Well, in that case," He paused again, and then started to head for the door. His fingers touched against the rounded handle, and with a twist, the door creaked open. "I'll come back in a few." He dropped one last smile before exiting, the door following behind him.

The wooden frame shivered as the door closed on it, the sound making me wince vaguely.

After the one-sided dialogue I experienced with the boy, I felt a little less uncomfortable with the situation I found myself in. My head turned ninety degrees to the left, and once again I caught myself in a trance of staring at myself in the half-shattered mirror.

"Huh." I finally said, my voice croaking as it adjusted to the drastic change of lack of speech.

"Whose memories are these?"

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