Thank you for all the support! Especially the votes and most of all the COMMENTS!!
I was sick today so I decided to write. I hope you love this chapter because I really liked writing it!! Please don't kill me for this (especially Alex because the weirdo from art class is using this chapter as revenge for that comment;))
SO HERE IS CHAPTER 15. PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT!!
LET'S GET TO 10K:)
My dreams that night are troubled to say the least. I toss,turn and thrash like an uncontrollable beast. Vivid dreams of Ana, cowering over in fear as the President approaches cause a sweat to break on my brow. My distress only worsens as images of Grayson looking forlorn enter my mind. My guilt swells.
And then thats it for the rest of the night. I cannot get Grayson out of my mind. Not once does he leave as I'm tortured with his rugged, pained face. I groan into the pillow. I need to toughen up because I should be able to survive more than 24 hours without him. It is not as if I love him or anything?
The edge of reason. Could that describe my feelings aptly enough?
I've lost all of the little perspective I was clinging to. My sister's match is not the one I should be fearing, it is in fact said match's grandfather. How could I have not seen this earlier? I recall my preceding meetings with President Mangold. Nothing about our first encounter revealed anything that would lead up to the set of events. But then again, his blank face is stragetically set in a rigid and tight expression to prevent anything from being exposed.
I'm suddenly terrified to leave the room. Not with the knowledge that the meglomanic and barbarous President takes resident in the same house that I am currently in. Though even the same dwelling is too close for comfort. But that thought confuses me. When I believed the one at fault to be Ollie, it didn't have nearly the same effect. Perhaps, I always knew that something didn't quite add up.
The more distressing thought though, is that I didn't consider Ollie's threat because of something else. Because Mangold is in a league of his own.
A banging on the door, prickles at my skin.
"Excuse me Miss Ana, Mr Knatt is waiting for you at breakfast. It is 8 am." A woman's voice says through the door and I sigh with relief. Its not President Mangold come to...I don't even want to know.
"I'm coming." I reply. Will the President be there?
"I shall wait outside the door to accompany you." The voice responds.
"That won't be necessary but thank you." I call back, scrambling around the room to try and find my clothes from yesterday. The chair on which my jacket and jeans had be lying, now has a pile of freshly ironed and folded garments.
"Miss, it is my duty to escort and protect you." The woman replies. I retain my scoff. She failed in that mission.
I dress quickly and use the comb to brush through my tangles.
When I open the door, I'm standing face to face with a woman. She looks about thirty and her black, halter neck shirt reveals her lean, toned arms. She's pretty but in scowling, vicious way. I fidget uncomfortably under her shrewd gaze. Its as if shes already seen through me. But she couldn't, could she? The only distinctive divergence is the birth mark Ana has on her stomach. My hands unconciously slip to my waist, as if to check the material of the dress is still covering me and that her eyes have not been able to tear through it.
"How are you feeling Miss Ana?"
"I am fine thank you..."
"Octavia, my name is Octavia." The woman says. "Mr Knatt mentioned your concussion."
"Ah of course, my concussion." I repeat.
Octavia glances speculatively at me before nodding her head to the right. I follow her as she marches off. Everything about this house is similar to Presidential building in the city. That fateful day. I feel as if I'm filing into the square once more but this time I won't be meeting with Grayson.
"Octavia, is the President with Ollie?"
"No. The President is currently away on the business trip." Octavia says over her shoulder. My tensed body relaxes. At least Ana and I are both safe...for now. My thoughts wander back to Grayson.
I remember the first time I saw him. If only I'd realised then that he was everything I would want; everything I would need. He surely won't want me after this. I'm not sure even what my purpose here is anymore. I can't pretend I'm Ana forever, Ollie will realise sooner or later. I'll just have to prolong that until I have found out what the President is doing.
Octavia nods respectfully and holds open a carved, wooden door for me. I sidle through sheepishly and the door shuts behind me. Ollie's head appears from the end of the table as he stands to greet me. His delight screams through his smile.
"Ana." He breathes.
"Hi." I reply awkwardly, walking towards the round table at which he sits. A magnificent spread of food as been set out as I eye it all hungrily.
"I ordered your favourites." Ollie smiles, gesturing towards an enormous stack of honey drizzled pancakes.
Oh dear. For the life of me I have never been able to understand why Ana enjoys the sickly taste so much. I have never tasted anything quite so disgusting in my life. I sit down on the chair next to Ollie and he immediately leans forward. I'm quick enough to lean back just in time so that his lips just brush my cheek.
Grayson.
"Is something wrong?" Ollie asks, his brow furrowing. He straightens back up and I release the breathe I was unconciously holding.
"I just can't right now."
Ollie sighs audibly and pinches the bridge of nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"I don't understand."
"Understand what?" I ask nervously.
He slams his fist against the table and the porcelain plates rattle. "Why do you do this?" He fumes. Perhaps I was wrong. Has the deceitful 1 managed to trick me? Is he not the good guy Ana described him to be?
"Do what?"
"Push me away?" He says, more calmly this time. His volatile behaviour is almost akin to Grayson's.
I pause, trying to think of what to say. "I'm sorry?"
"But you're not. Tell me honestly why you've never let me in. Tell me why you ran away?"
"Its complicated."
"We have an eternity." Ollie replies simply, sinking back into his chair.
What am I supposed to say to that? The fact of the matter is that I know that if I tell him, I risk everything. My life, Ana's and possibly even Grayson's. A knock on the door interrupts the strained conversation. Ollie sighs irritably.
"Come back later please." Ollie calls, clearly attempting to throttle his impatience.
"Sir this is important." Octavia calls back through the door.
"Enter."
Octavia appears. "I have Knight on line 5. He has requested to speak to you - he says it is a matter of urgency."
"The fifth time in half an hour." Ollie mutters under his breath. My eyes widen with alarm. If he answers the call, that is it.
"Please tell him to hold Octavia." Ollie replies.
"Yes Sir."
Ollie's eyes refocus back onto me.
"So?" He prompts.
And we're back to the question in hand. The one in which I have no idea how to answer. I open my mouth to answer and just as I'm about to speak there is another knock on the door.
"What?" Ollie snaps, the vein in his jaw visibly ticking.
Octavia's head appears around the door again.
"I'm sorry to disturb you again Sir but its Knight. He's being very insistent; he wants to speak to Ana now."
"No." Ollie replies firmly.
"Me?" I ask questionably, feigning surprise.
Octavia's eyes narrow in on me. Oh god - she knows.
"How should I respond?" Octavia asks uncertainly but it is clear that she knows who I am. Is she going to tell Ollie?
"Tell him that I will call him when I can. I am spending the next week with my match." Ollie replies smoothly. Octavia glances at me before nodding her head and leaving the room.
"The next week?"
"Yes." Ollie smiles.
"But why?"
"You clearly don't remember how happy we were before you left so I am going to spend the next week reminding you."
"Reminding me of what exactly?" I ask uncomfortably. This is seemingly meningeal conversation is making me anxious. Its as if I can predict what will happen and I know that it is not going to be something I'll enjoy.
"Reminding you of why you loved me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Elle." Grayson says, taking my hand in his, linking our fingers together. He brings a finger to my chin and gently lifts my eyes to meet his. Those alluring, seductive, stoney grey eyes. My breath hitches and my cheeks flush as his hand caresses my skin.
"I missed you baby." He says.
"I missed you too."
"Come back to me?" Grayson asks innocently. He dips his head and presses his lips to the brand on my neck. It stings slightly. However, the stinging soon becomes agonising; like hes pouring salt in my cuts.
"Why? I am with you?"
"I miss you." Grayson says, brushing his lips gently against mine.
"I miss you too." I reply, not caring for a second that this conversation is completely incoherent. The tantalising frisson between Grayson's skin and mine has me aching for his touch. Every time his fingers skim against mine, I struggle to control the desrious ache within my stomach.
"Your brand is gone." Gray remarks.
"So is my sanity." I reply. Some torturous cortex within my mind knows that something is not right. But the perfection of this moment and his prescence cannot be spoiled.
"Elle do you know why I need you to come back?" Grayson asks, his lips dangerously close to my own.
"Why?" I stammer, losing control of both my mind and eupnea. My legs begin to shake as his graze against mine.
"Because I lo-"
"Ana?" A voice calls. The image of Grayson suddenly begins to dissipate.
"No!" I exclaim. "Gray come back."
I try and reel him back, desperately clinging to the one fabrication of Grayson I had left. But instead, I'm forced to open my eyes to meet a concerned looking Ollie. I stare around, trying to collect the scene of where where we are. My eyes take in the rose garden, the picnic blanket and the feast that the cook has prepared. Ah yes - date number 7 is in full swing.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I snap, irked that he disturbed my limited time period with Gray.
8 days and counting without Grayson has begun to induce me into severe hallucinations. He fills my mind at every available opportunity. I'm supposed to be fully focused on this plan but all I can focus on is my Adonis of a match. The 8 days with Ollie has been...pleasant at the very least. I've learned he's charming, amiable, handsome and the embodiment of what every young man should be, no matter what his caste is. My prejudice against him was blind, partial, unjust. He loves me...he loves my sister with every fibre of his being. That much is evident with the amount of effort he has put into the last week.
We've been to museums, the sea (an entirely new experience for me), skydiving, snorkelling, quad biking. Everything that Ana would love. Its hard to not be compelled into the charade. In gentlemanly fashion, Ollie does little more than hold my hand or kiss my cheek; something I am entirely too grateful for. Sometimes, I envision that Ollie is Grayson and suddenly the activity we're doing becomes ten times more enjoyable. I didn't think that being away from him would affect me this much. But it is too little too late for those types of thoughts - but if I really thought that, he wouldn't embody my soul.
"Are you sure?"
"You've been staring at the sky for 10 minutes, murmuring listlessly." Ollie comments.
We're interrupted by the ringing of the phone in his pocket. He pulls it out, taking a quick glance before declining the caller. He scoffs furiously at the phone. I'm slightly alarmed to see his jaw tense - his reactions to Grayson's calls are never inviting. Despite Ollie's message that he was taking a leave of absence, that did nothing to hinder my persistent, and I suspect quite possibly by now, derranged match. Its sounds cruel of me, but I hope he is experiencing the same anguish I am and that my feelings are not too one sided.
"He won't give up will he?" Ollie scowls.
"He's a 5." I reply nonchalantly...but so am I.
At least, I used to be. I have no brand at the moment. I have never felt quite as incomplete. Everything I had and knew about myself has always been based on the number on my shoulder. I was a number 3, then a number 5 and now I am nothing.
The phone begins to ring again. Ollie curses as Grayson's name appears once again on the phone.
"Perhaps I should just answer it."
"No." I cry, lunging forward to grab the phone. However, Ollie moves too quickly and holds the phone above his head, far above my reach. His eyes stare at me curiously. His lips curl into a frown.
"You think I shouldn't?"
"No no! Definitely not!" I cry. I realise I sound a little too pleading than normal.
"Why?" Ollie asks skeptically.
"Whatever it is cannot be that severe that it can't wait a while." I reply smoothly, attempting to cover up my flawed mistake. I cannot let my tongue aloose again. It will give my heart away.
"Fine I won't." He declines the call again before facing me. "We return to normality tonight Ana. I can't avoid his calls forever or he will bring whatever hell they have up there down here." Ollie says. "You can never predict the actions of those demons."
"By those demons you mean my sister and her match?" I ask, suddenly riled by his statement. He will never know the true capacity of those people. Grayson, my family, his family - they're all good people. They're the farthest things from demons.
When I think about it, that term was exactly the derogatory insult I threw in Grayson's face time upon time.
"Aw, come on Ana you know I didn't mean it like that." Ollie groans, rubbing his hand over his stubbled chin."
"How exaclty did you mean it then?" I question icily. The warm breeze of the rose garden suddenly becomes very chilly.
"We're not going to have an argument about this. We've spent a lovely week together and I don't want to ruin that." Ollie says, lying down, strewing his hand across his chest. I roll my eyes at his passive approach. I hate to compare, but no doubt Gray and I would have been in a full scale argument. I miss the challenge. I like the way he manages to set alight every cell with my just a few calculated words, designed specifically to provoke me.
I'm even beginning to miss the trivial flaws. This was not supposed to happen. I should have been fine to leave him. He is the sun and I am Icarus. I was too bewitched with the beauty of the star to notice that its flames had begun to burn me.
Ollie's phone rings again. He lets out a growl of exclamation. Before I can stop him, he accepts the caller and presses the phone to my ear.
I curse and lunge forward, seizing the phone out of his hands and throwing it into a rose bush.
"Ana, what the-"
He's cut off as I press my lips to his.
Forgive me Grayson.
.