Kyle woke up to the sound of... silence. His eyes flickered open and he pushed himself up to find himself in his room. Groggily cracking his joints, he flinched at the sudden pain in his shoulder.
"WHAT THE HELL?" He yelled.
Butler La Fayette rushed in immediately and Kyle pointed at the bloody bandage on his shoulder.
"Where'd I get this from?" Kyle couldn't remember shit from last night. There he was rushing to go find Emily who somehow got kidnapped, and he found her injured. She was injured. Badly. And it was his fault, he shuddered slightly.The butler seemed to read his mind as he calmly said, "Ms. Emily's injuries were minor and had gone back home under my care, sir. She's fine."
Although he felt a rush of relief he was puzzled at how they were minor. She looked half dead, and those men were pretty heavily armed. He flashed backed to her pale, immobile body and the bruises that lined her arms and chest.
What exactly happened? I ran to the terminal and found her all injured. There's no way she can be fine! Then I knocked several out and was about to get to Jackson when-when what? Emily. She woke up. But then--Kyle tried to remember what happened and pounded his head. What in the world happened?
"Gramps, make sure to get her to a hospital though. Her wounds were pretty severe. Or at least pack some medicine for me so I can give it to her."
"Of course, young master. Consider it done."
"By the way, what time is it?" He groaned as he eased himself up from his lying position.
Butler La Fayette pulled out his watch and checked the time. "A little after 2:30 in the afternoon, young master."
Just in time for lunch. Kyle jumped off his bed ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder and legs and headed to the showers. "Get my uniform ready, and prepare my protein shake."
"Er, young master, it's a Saturday."
Kyle paused mid-step before slowly turning around. "What do you mean it's Saturday? Yesterday was Thursday. Are you going senile, old man?" He smirked.
"Surprisingly, no young master," he smiled gently, "You've been asleep for two days. The, er, accident must've made your body pretty exhausted. You woke up only for a few minutes every few hours."
"What the hell happened?" He mused to himself as he sat himself back down on the bed.
"If you'll excuse me young master, I shall prepare your breakfast. Please don't forget to take the painkillers on the counter." Butler Lafayette gave a small bow before exiting the room.
Kyle slowly slipped out of bed and took some of the pills. He limped over to Bacon's cage to give her a carrot before heading to the shower.
Goddang it. His bathroom was huge. Probably a bit smaller than the size of his classrooms. Installed was a state of art hot tub, a shower stall, a steam room, and of course a sink and a toilet. Usually he didn't mind the vastness, but with his injuries, getting around was a pain. He nearly slipped twice at the smooth marble floors, and winced whenever he saw his reflection in the mirror. His face was mangled badly; there was a large purple, green bruise on his right cheeks, and his nose was a deep shade of red. Who ever did this is gonna pay. His new wounds were not strategically put like in the movies to make the actor look bad ass, instead, it looked as though he barely survived a horrible car accident. As he stripped out of his top, he took notice of the jagged cuts on his biceps and the bruises that were blooming all over his back. He flexed his stomach, and winced at the pain he felt. If he was in this state, how the hell was Emily fine? He sucked in breath as he lowered his torso to slip off his pants and gingerly went into the shower.
Well, the most I can do now is question her when I see her on Monday.
xx
It was 7 in the morning, and the sun was barely peeking through the clouds. The campus was slowly starting to show signs of life as people trailed in for 0 period. The day was starting off slow and languid, and Emily wanted to be anywhere but at school. I hate Monday's, though Emily glumly. At the moment, Emily was in the middle of painting the kissing booth's right wall a bright red color when someone prodded her on the shoulder.
"Emily, what are you doing?" Said Charles.
She jolted up and looked at where Charles was pointing at.
Oh God. She was painting mid-air and paint was dripping down on to the marble floor instead of the booth. She adjusted her glasses before glancing back at Charles. "Sorry, I'm just so out of it," she mumbled.
Charles gave her a pitiful look before gently saying, "Do you want to take a break for a while? You've been here since 5:45 and you don't look like you got much sleep."
Emily gave a small smile. "Thanks, but I'll pass. We need to get this done quickly."
Charles gave her a nod before adding, "Well, let me know if you need help, and I'll send someone over!"
Emily gave an appreciative nod before resuming painting. This time, the booth. She stifled a yawn and rapidly painted, only to end up falling asleep again. The last few days were a busy blur for her. After knocking out Kyle, she had hastily picked him up and left. The worst parts about fights were the cleaning up after all. It was too much of a hassle to deal with the police at that point, so she left the bodies up to the gangsters who'd probably come back. She somehow managed to take Kyle back to his house and gratefully, the Butler didn't question her lack of clothing or the obvious injuries and instead immediately started treating them. After, she got a ride back home from him and slept for an hour before getting ready to leave for school. As a disciplinary prefect, she had a meeting both Saturday and Sunday to discuss new measures to be taken for safety and what not. And she had spent a couple of hours at the hospital at Kyle's butler request. Unlike Kyle, his butler was a gentle, charming old man who managed to accompany her without pissing her off every couple of minutes. Furthermore, she had to work at her part time job. In the end, she barely managed to get 3 hours of sleep each night and it didn't help that there was one more issue to take care of; after all, just one punch won't make Kyle forget what happened last night forever.
"Kyle!" Emily joggled up at the sound of some girl's shriek. Turning around, sure enough Kyle was heading towards her. His face was unreadable.
Kyle found Emily crouching next to a half painted piece of wood falling asleep. He walked quickly up to her, ignoring Sandy's startling shriek when he suddenly stopped. His vision turned hazy as he flashed back to scenes of Thursday. That's right.
Figments of the night that he had tried to piece together came together as he walked up to her. Her wilted body. The gun shot. The blood. The tattoo.
He grabbed her hand and lead her away from the students.
"What're you doing?" She protested.
He didn't bother responding but she pieced it together when she found herself standing inside the Nurse's office. It was empty and sterile. The steady sound of the whirring machines and rhythm of the humidifiers was a stark contrast to the way his brain was frantically processing how to go about this confrontation. He slowly turned around to face her. His mind carried a whirlwind of questions that tormented him the past two nights. Yet when he saw her face, the first thing that came out was a sigh of relief. She looked much better than how remembered her. The color was back in her cheeks. He took in her feet, then her legs, her fingers, her arm, her chest, her neck, and her hair. He flinched when he noticed the scratches, the bruises that she thought she had carefully covered, and the angry welts that formed in the most delicate areas of her skin.
"Are you okay?"
They both stood there in surprise at their mutual question.
He could see that she was studying him carefully.
"I'm fine," he muttered quickly.
Emily furrowed her eyebrows. "There's no way you're fine. Shouldn't you be at the hospital?"
"I could say the same to you." He eyed the bruises that bloomed on her skin like blue and purple roses. Guilt swept through him as though it had been injected into his bloodstream. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, too." She averted her gaze. She could see the gauze stick out under his collar. Blame caused her stomach to drop as though she swallowed a boulder. She thought about the scars that he would have because of the fight she had caused and couldn't bear to look at his face.
"What happened to your hair?" He murmured. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached to run his fingers through the jagged edges of her hair.
Startled, she pushed his hand away and he winced at the pain in his shoulder. Her eyes widened. "Your wound. Let me take a look at it."
"I told you, I'm fine," he sighed. His eyes narrowed as he remembered the flaming red and gold tattoo that was on her back. "Here's what's bothering me... how is it that you, a high school student, a girl no less, managed to fight against a group of armed men - make it out alive - and have the strength to carry me all the way back home. How is that you're not remotely fazed after being kidnapped, beaten half to death, and nearly being turned into the star of a porn film? How is that you're standing here glaring at me when most people would be at their wits end? How is it that a high school girl like you is part of the Flaming Dragons?"
Emily clenched her first nervously but kept her gaze focused steady. "As a disciplinary prefect and member of the school security council, I've been trained to handle dangerous situations. As a girl, I've been taught that I'll always be physically weaker than a boy so I made myself tougher by learning martial arts. You'd be surprised what you're capable of Kyle when you're pushed into a corner and have no way out. That's what kept me alive that night. That's what helped me survive my whole life. And flaming dragons? I have no idea what you're talking about."
He digested what she told him quietly. "Then the tattoo. How do you explain that?"
"What tattoo?" She said coolly.
"Don't mess with me," he scowled. "The dragon on your shoulder. I saw it that night."
"You may have seen lots of things that night but a dragon sure wasn't one of them."
"Prove it."
Her breath hitched. He leaned to her and moved the blazer off of her shoulder. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine," he goaded.
She furrowed her brows as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt revealing more and more of the injuries from that night. He tugged the sleeve off his shoulder and Emily felt her lips quiver. His body was mangled because of her stupid mistake and now he carried bullet holes to serve as a reminder of the chaos she caused.
"Now you," he demanded. Mimicking him, she slowly unbuttoned her blazer and slid it off her. Then she removed her necktie and began unbuttoning her top. Her face was impassive but Kyle felt his face growing warm. She slid off the blouse off her shoulder and turned around so that her back faced him. She lowered her top completely and Kyle's jaw opened I'm surprise. There was nothing. Besides her bra clasp and some bruises, there wasn't a single trace of the tattoo he saw that night. He touched her back gingerly and he felt her shiver at his touch. She tilted her head back to look at him. "I showed you mine too. Now we're even."
Before he can reply, he was cut off by a low whistle. "My oh my, had I known my office was going to used as a hook up spot for horny teenagers I would've rejected this job immediately." Clark dropped his binder onto the chair and swung himself onto a chair nonchalantly.
"We were just about to head out," muttered Emily. She quickly pulled her blouse up and stood up. Kyle grabbed his jacket and strode towards the door.
"There's condoms by the sink if you need any, kids. Safety first!" Clark smirked.
"Whatever," muttered Kyle as he stormed out. His head was in a bigger mess than before.
It still didn't make any sense, but he was going to figure her out.
Emily redid her tie and fixed her hair as best as she could. Clark watched her with an amused grin.
"You better be careful, kid," said Clark seriously.
"I'll be fine. Just don't tell the headmaster." She slipped out of the nurse's room and shut the door.
Clark sighed as he watched the retreating figure of Emily and Kyle, "This is getting troublesome."
XX
The classroom smelled like paint and markers as students worked on their projects. Mrs. Mack was one of those super liberal teachers who didn't give a crap about rules or regulations when it came to the curriculum. Rather than the state standard books, the novels and short stories ranged from reading Kafka to Harry Potter. This week, they were finishing up The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde - a book that was definitely not sanctioned by the school. As Mrs. Mack prattled on about the significance of the portrait, Emily glanced over at Kyle and he was staring out the window. The last 2 weeks had flown by and it was nearly February. Ever since the incident with Jackson, Kyle and Emily had barely crossed paths or exchanged words. Yet their presence loomed over each other and left them feeling uneasy and lost. What was there left to say? At the very least, Emily was glad that Kyle had been staying out of trouble. He showed up to class, and yes he was distant and quiet - but it was certainly better than when he was acting with reckless abandon. Or was it?
As each day passed, it was as if he were putting more and more walls up. Not just to her but to the entire student body. He pointedly ignored any attempt at conversation from other students and instead spent his days listening to music or napping.
"Alright class," Mrs. Mack began. "To continue our lesson on Dorian Gray, I thought it might be helpful for you to put yourself in the place of Dorian and Basil. I want you to draw a portrait of your partner. Afterwards, ask the partner questions about what has shaped them physically, emotionally, or mentally and depict that around the portrait. Unlike, Dorian Gray, we will not be focusing on our vices. Rather, celebrate what makes you, you. You will present the portraits to the class afterwards."
"Can we choose our partners?" Asked Mindy.
"Nice try, but no. Your partner will be the person sitting right of you. Emily, you can work with Kyle since you both don't have anyone sitting to the right of you."
Emily sighed. Crap. This was going to be uncomfortable. She slid her desk towards Kyle who didn't bother acknowledging her.
"Kyle, we're partnered up."
He gave a little nod but went back on his phone acting as though he was engrossed in a game of Minecraft.
Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed his phone. He scowled at her.
She glowered back, "I know you don't care about school. But I'm not going to risk losing my scholarship from getting a poor grade because you refuse to participate. I'll give you your phone back once we are done with class."
He let out a huff and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil. He drew a big circle, two circles in between them, a stick body, and some scratchy hair. "There, I'm done. Now give me my phone back."
"That looks nothing like me," she seethed.
"What're you talking about? She's the spitting image of you. There's the glasses. See how short she is. Also take note of the frowny face. Looks familiar?"
"Wow, So you ignore me for two weeks and you immediately pick a fight with me?" She challenged.
"Who ignored who? I didn't realize I was obligated to speak to you when I've only known you for three weeks," He seethed.
"You know what, fine. I don't like you and you don't like me. Let's just get this project done so we can move on with our lives. So at least put some clothes on me or maybe add a nose or something."
Kyle scoffed but grabbed another sheet of paper. Sighing, Emily grabbed her sketchbook and slowly started sketching him.
Tapping the pencil on his desk, Kyle watched Emily work on her portrait of him. She would peek from the side of the easel and then disappear and then peek again and disappear. He caught himself muffling a laugh at some points. It was weird. Ever since the incident, he wanted nothing to do with her. Every time he saw her, he would be reminded of her limp body, the blood, and the screams. It was his fault that she had gotten herself into a situation like that. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt again. He had stayed low key at school and as boring as it was, at least no one else was in trouble because of him. He was used to this anyways. Ever since he was young, he realized the more you let people in the more opportunities you create for yourself to get hurt. Rather than dealing with the pain of betrayal later, he'd rather just avoid people all together now. People were burdensome. Yet, oddly enough, Kyle felt the burden in his heart grow a little bit lighter as Emily continued to work with him. He grabbed his pencil and drew a circle and started laying out her features. He was glad to notice that most of the swelling and bruises were gone. He sketched her bangs, then her short hair, and he began framing her eyes with lashes. He noticed that her glasses had a chip that she taped together. He sketched the slight furrow in her brow. He drew her lips, her neck, her little mole on her nose. He shaded her cheeks and added shadow to her forehead.
"Wow Kyle, that looks great," praised Mrs. Mack. Emily peered over her easel and looked at Kyle's sketch and her mouth opened in surprise. Kyle wasn't half bad at drawing.
"Since you only have 30 minutes left in class, use the remaining time to interview each other and draw it out."
"So," Emily began, "What're some things that changed you or shaped you?"
Kyle smirked. Where do I even begin? How about the fact that his father decided to sleep with every woman in NYC besides his own mother? Or that his mother left him at 6 years old without a second glance? Or that his first crush ended up using him for his wealth? Or maybe the fact that he used to call his butler dad because he forgot what his own father looked like at 4?
"Hmm, the day I bought my first stock. I was 10 years old and I invested in Facebook. How about you?"
Great, how I am going to draw that? Emily tapped her finger under her chin as she wondered, too. She could tell him everything but the truth.
"Becoming the prefect of this school."
"Ah, the day you decided to put a stick up your ass. That will be easy for me to depict," he smirked.
Emily scowled. "No profanity." Her scowl grew wider as he actually began sketching a butt with a stick poking out of it.
"Oh that's how you're gonna be huh? Take a sweet look at this then." She furiously began sketching him in a pool of money.
"Wow, that's actually incredibly accurate dweeb."
She glowered, "oh, I forgot this little detail. Here's a giant silver spoon shoved into your mouth."
"Oh yeah, well get a load of this. Here's you shitting on everything that's remotely entertaining in life." He sketched her pooping over a bunch of sad looking faces.
"No. Profanity. Here's YOU with a pile of poop for your head."
"That's real mature, dweeb. Doesn't this look really familiar? It's a picture of you kissing the VP's ass."
"Huh... I wonder who this is... oh yeah, it's Kyle passed out drunk after illegally entering a nightclub on a WEEKDAY."
"Now this is a familiar scene, it's you giving googly eyes to every guy that you ever talk to."
"Man, that's nothing compared to amount of girls you go around sleeping with!"
"Bet you wish you were one of them," he snapped back.
"I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last guy on earth," she snarled.
"That is enough." Mrs. Mack snapped as she grabbed both sheets of paper. "Look at this! This is incredibly immature."
Emily and Kyle finally took a look at each other's drawings. Dorian Gray's portrait had nothing on their works of arts. They glanced at the pictures, then at each other, and suddenly they burst into laughter.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Mack. I should've been more responsible. I'll deduct points from myself and from Kyle." Emily said as she wiped away her tears.
Mrs. Mack shook her head. "You two are going to serve detention with me."
"Yes Mrs. Mack," Emily replied seriously. When Mrs. Mack turned around, she glanced back at Kyle who was still trembling from laughter.
"Serves us right, I didn't mean for this to get out of hand like this" she said ruefully. "Truce?" She held her hand out to him.
He slowly reached out and shook her hand. "Truce."
XX
The next day, Emily found a pair of glasses sitting on her desk.
Next to it was a sticky note with a message scrawled out in messy handwriting,
"Thank you and I'm sorry. - K"
Emily smiled as she took off her old cracked ones.
When Kyle saw her walk in with the new glasses on, he stifled a grin. It looked a lot better than the dorky, chunky glasses she wore before. He could actually see those green eyes.
"Thanks for these," she said as she nudged at her glasses.
"It's nothing," he replied gruffly as he tried to cover up his embarrassment. "You're coming with me after school, right?"
"Yep," she nodded.
He hid his smile behind his hand, "ugh, fine."
This chapter was a lot more light-hearted after the two chapters of consecutive fights! Do you prefer chapters like these or the chapters when they're in danger? And ooh la la~ Emily and her fair share of boys! What's he going to be like ? RxR appreciated!
xoxo,
StellarSecrets