Vote - Comment - Share (You don't have to but please do, I'd really appreciate it!)

- - - -

- - - -

evangeline blackwood

"Are you okay?"

Apollo is sat in the Library with his head in his hands, looking up when he hears me. His eyes widen at first before he nods towards the chair across from him.

"Donnie said he can't give you a ride home after. He's got detention and then he's got to go out."

I nod, "You didn't answer my question."

He bites his lip, hesitation passing through his brown eyes. Apollo seems to go for the honest answer, "Not really."

"Julian?"

Apollo frowns, "Kind of, and I'm worried about Phoe. He's acting weird at home too and it's stressing everyone out because he won't speak about it."

"I don't know to be honest but I'm sure he'll open up eventually. It just takes time." I shrug, "And about Julian, I'd like to say ignore it and he'll go away but he likes being the most annoying person in this place so..."

"Yeah I know." He interlocks his fingers, staring at them in his lap. "It's not Julian himself because I really couldn't give a flying fuck about him, it's just what he said."

"The F word or the 'that lot disgust me because I'm a small-minded toad who's still living in the 17th century'?"

He chuckles, but the sad look in his eyes doesn't diminish for a second. "Both, I guess." I don't say anything so he continues, "I don't know, I just regret telling him about it now. I didn't want it to be public knowledge."

"Were you out back at your school in Manchester?" I asked.

He signs, "Not willingly. I had a boyfriend and we kept it quiet. When I ended it, he told the entire school. It was one of the reasons why my Dad wanted us to leave. Don't get me wrong, not everyone was bad and those that were got dealt with. But Donnie and I couldn't spend the rest of Sixth Form fighting off anyone who was homophobic and it even started affecting Rory."

"That won't happen here." I swore, promising him and myself that I wouldn't let it happen.

"You don't know that." His voice breaks and I swear it stabs at parts of me that I'd rather remain hidden.

"I was with Julian a long time. I know things about him and I know a lot about people in this area." I place my hand over his shaking one, squeezing it gently. "If they try anything, I'll tell them straight that if they try to send you down, they're all going with you. I would've done it if anything got said about Logan or Ashanti, I'm not too bothered about me. I promise you, Apollo, I won't let this spiral."

"Would you actually do that?"

"Honestly, I don't know if I'd actually be able to expose people's darkest secrets but Julian doesn't know that, he doesn't know me." I reply sincerely, "But I do know this, I'll do what I can to make sure you don't ever go through that again. No matter what."

********

The thought of Apollo's broken expression doesn't leave me as I'm lying in my bed. My Mums are both at work and Atlas is at his mate's house again.

I jump up as I hear someone knock on my door. I hate opening the door when everyone's home, nevermind when no one's home, it brings out this anxiety in me that I'd rather remain hidden.

I just don't like people at all.

Either way, I jog downstairs to the door.

Looking through the peephole, my eyebrows furrow at the large, dark figure so I opened the door to see Adonis standing there.

He's holding his side, and as the outdoor light meets his face, I see the dark bruises igniting his tanned skin.

"Oh my god." I gasped lightly, eyes widening on instinct. "Are you okay?"

"Can I come in?" He grunts, wincing in pain. "I'm sorry, I didn't know wher-"

"Don't worry about it, come on." I opened the door and gestured for him to go in. My anxieties calm slightly at seeing him but my worry ignites further at the dried blood littering his face. His messy hair is practically stuck to his forehead and I swear I see his eyes flicker with pain before he completely empties his stare.

"Sit." I demand, going into the kitchen before he has the chance to argue. By the time I have the first aid kit, he's sat on the couch with his jacket hung up on the stand across the room.

"I told you to sit."

"Didn't want to get blood on the couch." He shrugs, not quite looking at me but not quite avoiding my stare. My stomach tightens as part of my mind begs for me to ask him what happened while the other, more rational side, tells me to drop it. He'll tell me if he wants to.

It's weird. Despite the cuts and bruises, his ocean eyes still shimmer in the reflected moonlight. He's wearing a black long-sleeved shirt that highlights all the right places and his skinny black jeans do the exact same. As if he could sense my admiration, his gaze meets mine and that almost knowing smirk tattoos his face.

"I'm fine."

I nod my head, opening the box and removing the wipes that I've seen my Mums use countless times. I don't ask but I look at him expectantly until he nods his head back at me, which I take as consent for me cleaning the blood away.

Similarly to common belief, the injuries don't look too bad once all the crimson-red blood is gone and the tremble in my hands halt for a moment.

I sniff as a non-metallic scent hits my senses, "Have you been drinking?"

The smell of whiskey makes me gag. I fucking hate it. The continuous hangovers that I would get at 14 acted as a warning against my adult self ever going near it again.

Adonis could've been in a fight, he could've gotten jumped, or mugged, or attacked for some pointless reason. But he'd been drinking, so surely he wouldn't have been alone?

"I had a bit when I was out before." He mutters as I hand him an ice pack for his bruises. "You're not going to ask?"

I blink, "Ask what?"

"What happened." Now it's his turn to be confused, and my god is he. The furrowed eyebrows are partnered with a suspicious glimmer that makes his stare look almost threatening.

"It's your business, innit."

His eyes flicker with recognition as I mirror the same words that he used towards me not too long ago.

I continue, gesturing to his cut knuckles. "It's obvious that, no matter what happened, you're good. If you were in trouble, I doubt you'd be here alone when you have Apollo and Morgs."

"What if I didn't want them involved?" He tests.

"Then why come here?"

He chuckles gently, "You've got me there. I dunno why I came, thought you'd be alright with it."

"I'm not the sort of girl who can't deal with a bit of blood." I shrugged, "If you need a safe place then you can always come here, even if I'm not home. My Mum's would never turn you away and, at the end of the day, I'm only a phone call or a few minute walk away."

"Thank you." His tone is softer now, gentle almost. That appreciative look is in his eyes again, the one that just makes my breathing halt. I just know he's broke at least a thousand hearts when he lived in Manchester.

"You tired?"

"Yeah." He stands, grabbing his jacket. "Thanks for helping me. I'll see yo-"

"You can stay." I rush out, rubbing the back of my neck. "I mean, if you want. You know, you don't have to but like, I have the house to myself and my Mum's won't be back until like midday tomorrow so-"

"Okay." His lips tug up, and he follows me as I go upstairs.

"Do you wanna bunk on my floor or the couch? I mean, you could probably try my Mums room but I don't know if you'd find it a bit weird?" I shiver at the thought, "It's your choice though."

"I'll just bunk on your floor." His eyes wander aimlessly around my room, zooming in on the photographs I have littering my walls. "Do you mind if I take my shirt off? I don't usually sleep with one on."

"That's fine. Do you want some sweatpants? I'm sure I have some."

"Why would you have guy swea-" He stops as he sees the grey joggers in my drawers, grabbing them as I hand them to him. "Do I want to know?"

"I've only wore them a few times, they're a size too small for me but like my weight and your height will even out." I mess around trying to find him some pillows and my spare quilt so he can't see me blushing. Normally I avoid all conversations in which my weight is mentioned. It's not that I'm insecure or anything, because I really couldn't care less, but I'm aware that some people find humour in the fact I'm significantly larger than most girls my age.

"Cheers, I'll just go get changed."

I send him a small smile and the moment my bedroom door closes, I begin to freak out.

What if he sees my stretch marks if my shirt rides up while I'm sleeping? What if I've missed a part of my leg out when shaving? What if I have a nightmare?

Oh my god.

This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have asked him to stay. He was okay, wasn't he? Fuck.

"Night, Adonis." I say, climbing into bed and pulling the quilt around me as much as it could go.

"G'night, Eva." He slips out in his tired state. My eyes widen at the nickname but I don't comment on it.

I shuffle and try to get comfortable but it's difficult knowing that Adonis still isn't asleep. I can hear him moving about too.

After around 10 minutes of the same meaningless movement, I speak up. "Can't sleep?"

"Sorry. Do you want me to go downstairs so I don't disturb you?"

"Don't worry about it." I yawn, "What's up? Can't get comfy?"

"Yeah, probably just the floor. It's fine though, I'll fall asleep in a minute or two."

And then, for some reason, sleep-deprived Evangaline Blackwood comes out with most mental thing in the world. "You want to come up here?"

The entire world literally freezes. "What?"

I don't answer, shocked at myself.

I've not slept in a bed with someone, without having sex, since Julian. And I definitely don't want to have sex with Adonis.

"Is that okay?" He lowers his voice, seeming uncertain.

"Yeah, at least you'll be able to sleep then." I shuffled over, opening the covers so he knew it was alright to climb in.

Confession: Adonis snores when he's sleep.