I stared out the window, down onto the streets across my house, my hands balled up into fists in my lap. September was approaching, the slight chill in the air clear evidence of that. It didn't help that the heater was still broken, not helping my already cold body. The guy with the darts - whose name I had come to learn was Patrick - had offered to come in with some of his friends to fix it.
I had refused. It was already enough that they were hiding somewhere in the bushes around my house, making sure I didn't escape. And they just wouldn't leave, no matter how bad I tried to get them to go away. I had nearly avoided calling them Puck's pets. But that was low. Really low. I needed to calm myself.
And get out of here so I could find Puck and make sure he's okay.
But with all of them hiding around my house, I had no idea how I'd accomplish this. I'd tried to pretend that I was going to the grocery store, but I had to be accompanied. I could try to fight them, but I think taking into consideration my Victorian Lady state - fainting-wise - and the years of training they had, I would most likely end up wrapped between my own limbs.
Sighing, I pushed myself off from where I sat at the windowsill and made my way back to my bed. I didn't feel safe here anymore. Not after those pictures that'd been mailed to me. Although I'm highly suspicious of Puck's dad, I'm not sure it's him. And even if it is, I still get the feeling of being watched, still get the feeling of uneasiness, of betrayal. My room used to be the only safe place for me. But now, it was another victim to the abuse of the world. And I hated it.
A bitter feeling overtook my chest as I wrapped my arms around myself, bringing my knees to my chest. I wish everything could just be simple. I wish I didn't have an abusive dad and I wished... I wished that Puck's father wasn't who he was. I wished Puck and I could just have a normal relationship - one that didn't have to rely on the foundations of him being an obsessive, toxic stalker before.
I wished my life could go back to way it was before. Before my mom died. Before my dad became someone vile.
I wished a lot of things. But wishing was useless when the world you lived in relied more on actions than anything.
»« »« »«
"We're out," Patrick told me as he entered my bedroom.
I looked up at him, confusion overtaking my senses. "What?"
"We're done. We're leaving. You're free."
I frowned. "What do you mean you're leaving? I'm free?"
"Yep," Patrick said.
I narrowed my eyes at him in suspicion, wondering if there was an underlying meaning beneath his words. "Just like that?" I asked skeptically.
"Just like that." Patrick shrugged, his expression indifferent. "We were just following orders. Now we're done and leaving. I thought you'd be happy."
I stared at him incredulously, pushing myself off my bed. "I am... Happy, I mean. I guess. It's just... Wow. This is weird."
"Like I said, we're just following orders."
I pursed my lips. "Puck gave you the order to cage me in my own house?" When Patrick nodded, my confusion deepened. "So...he also gave you the orders to leave?... Just now?" Patrick nodded again and my eyes widened as I help up a finger. "Wait - so that means...Puck's fine? He got out alive?"
"Pretty much, yeah," Patrick said, nodding.
Relief flooded my senses and I made a face. "Why are you being so casual about this? Puck's out!"
"Uhh, yeah," Patrick said, looking confused, at which anger boiled inside of me - who was he to be questioning everything? "Yeah. I mean, he always does find a way out. You were worrying for nothing."
I'm worrying for this, I thought bitterly, silently fuming and not realizing Patrick taking hesitant backwards steps towards the door.
"I'm gonna go now," he said, waving and leaving before I could get the chance to say anything.
I frowned and turned away. Puck was fine. He was fine. Oh, thank God. But why didn't he come see me yet? He wasn't obligated, I knew that. But, still...after what occurred with his dad, I expected some kind of clarification. And yet...
My eyes wandered towards my window, out onto the front lawn, where all of Puck's friends were packing their stuff, getting ready to leave. One figure in particular caught my attention. And my eyes widened when I caught sight of the person's face.
Slipping my cardigan around me, I rushed down the stairs as fast as I could, stepping onto the lawn, which was mostly deserted by now. Breathing ragged, I made to jog towards him. "Puck!" I called out, watching as his head turned towards me, a flicker of something indecipherable flashing in his eyes before he schooled his features into an impassive one.
Patrick, who was standing in front of him, ended their exchange and waved as he left with his other friends, his eyes darting towards me for the briefest second before quickly looking away.
"Puck," I breathed once everyone had left, looking up at him in concern. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried."
Puck's lips pursed and I caught the way he deliberately tried to avoid looking into my eyes. "You shouldn't have been," he said, voice cold and distant, causing me to frown.
"What?"
Puck glared at me, and I shrunk back a little. For a moment, I could've sworn I saw regret shining in his eyes, but it was either gone just as soon as it came...or not there to even begin with. "You shouldn't have worried about me," Puck repeated, his words clipped.
"Puck...why - why are you..."
"Why am I what?" he asked sharply, his dark eyes hardening.
I scoffed. "Why are you being like this? Did I do something wrong?"
It was Puck's turn to let out a humorless chuckle. "I was always like this, Polly. It's not my fault you were too fucking dense to notice."
I flinched back in surprise and hurt, noticing that Puck's expression didn't waver for even a second. My breathing grew shallow as tears welled up in my eyes. Why was he being like this? Looking away, I fought to stop the tears from escaping my eyes and bit my bottom lip to stop it from wobbling pathetically.
"Stop being mean," I whispered, cringing when my words came out a whimper. I didn't need to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly he hurt me.
There was a moment of silence in which I felt Puck's burning gaze on my face, though I didn't dare to meet his eyes.
Finally, after a tense few minutes, Puck crossed his arms over his chest. I made the mistake of turning at his movement and immediately regretted it when I saw the cold look in his eyes.
It was one I'd never seen before. Not even when he was first bullying me.
His stare hit me like a snowstorm -- freezing, unexpected and...hard. My heart dropped all the way down to my toes.
And his words nearly tore my heart out and ripped it to shreds.
"Why? Aren't you supposed to be used to it by now?"
So sorry for the super late update! Even though I had writer's block, it should be no excuse to update on time! Hopefully I'll be able to update one more time this week as a reward for you guys being patient (even though you kinda didn't have a choice, haha)! :)