[ s u r r e a l n i h i l i s t i c m a d n e s s ]

♥ talisa ♥

HOW DOES ONE go about reporting a stalker?

If somebody saw my search history, they would be reasonably confused, to be blunt.

I'd finally escaped that car crash- No, boat wreck, of a yacht terror-experience and now a French man was following me around the gym.

Again.

Despite that, I was still soaring on cloud nine after what Gabriel had said to me. I didn't have any shame in admitting that last night was replaying itself again and again in my mind like a broken DVD player.

A rare small smile flickered on my face.

None of the chemicals I'd used in the past had ever given me a high like this. And I didn't think it was gonna end anytime soon. That made me feel good.

Hence, I blamed Gabriel for how positive and unbothered I was feeling.  That was the only reason, I hadn't gone up to the Forteaux exchange student and put him in his place.

Tying up my hair again in a high ponytail, I reduced the high incline on the treadmill and caught my breath momentarily. My legs were killing but no pain, no gain.

I'd only slept for a few hours before showering and driving to the gym. There was too much on my mind for sleep.

The one person I'd yearned for every hour of the sun and moon had finally surrendered his mind, body and soul to me. It was terrible. Yet beautiful at the same time. Terribly beautiful. God, I was consumed in thoughts of him.

Constantly.

Every tick of the clock away from him marked a second wasted and each moment with him was spent too fast.

Nobody understood me like him. Nobody else understood what it was like to become so consumed in madness that nothing really mattered anymore. Sure, since Louisa had left, Gabriel had become my partner. But now, he was so much more than that.

He was everything.

We'd both been drowning for a while, chained to a metal boulder, abandoned and tossed into the fists of the ocean. Somehow, our manacles had become intricately wrapped together by the wrath of the tides. Now, we were forever shackled to each other, still sinking deep in a surreal nihilistic madness but no longer lonesome.

His fingers were laced tightly into mine and I knew he wouldn't let go.

For once, I'm not alone.

"Alright, quit it. What do you want?" I asked, frustrated.

The idiot pretended to look around as if it wasn't obvious that I was talking to him.

"Moi?" he said, in a thick French accent.

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, you. What do you want? You've been staring at me for the past 45 minutes."

He stuttered, standing up from the chest press machine. His chocolate skin was covered in a silver sheen, as he wiped some sweat off his brow. "No, no! I don't understand how to use some of the machines. I was trying to see how you did it."

What a liar. He had biceps the size of Mount Snowdon and apparently didn't know how to use the gym machines. I racked my mind for his name but nothing came to me.

I'd noticed that my memory had got a lot worse of late. The drugs I used didn't usually have that effect. Alcohol didn't either. Maybe, I was just imagining things. I had more important things to think about than remembering some irritating guy's name.

"Sure," I said, sarcastically, turning off the treadmill and walking towards him. "Last time, you wanted to go 'swimming' in the gym, and this time, you 'don't know' how to use the equipment. Fascinating, I was unaware that Espirits enrolled much incompetent students. "

A look of both shock and dismay grew on his face as he shook his head, "And my mother's the headmistress."

A genuine laugh slipped out my mouth and softly bounced around the gym, "Well, that's rather ironic, isn't it?"

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled earnestly at my reaction, "It certainly is."

Curiosity peaked in me for a moment. Unlike the rest of Forteaux, oddly enough, there wasn't jealousy or hate flickering behind his petrified eyes. The fear was still there but there was also a shadow of awe and respect.

Putting it down to the good mood I was in, I humoured him. "What was your name again?"

"Pierre. Pierre Lafayette."

I swear one of my mutual friends from Marseille was a Lafayette. That bitch had spent most of last year's summer party moaning about how her ancestors were royal.

Sitting down on the edge of the bench press machine next to him, I clasped my hands together trying to read his face.

What was his agenda? Everyone had an agenda.

I couldn't work it out.

He sat down on the chest press machine a few metres away, shying away from my face and tentatively speaking. "You should laugh more often, you know. You have a beautiful sounding laugh. Also, your face changes into something a lot nicer than that scary expression you always wear. Your eyes become less hard too like ice melting."

That caught me by surprise.

"I marvel at your guts," I comment, slightly miffed by his confidence. It wasn't even confidence though.

It was a strange candidness.

Not negative or positive. Just neutral. Just a statement. "Nobody dares to criticise my appearance around here, Pierre."

"My, my. You've got me wrong. I'm not being critical at all. I'm simply mediating my thoughts."

My heart rate had slowed down a bit and I took a long gulp of water.

Mediating my thoughts? Who did he think he was? A monk?

I stared at him again. He looked at me with wonder.

Annoyingly, a part of me appreciated his honesty. Honesty was a super rare currency nowadays; so hard to find and with numerous counterfeits circulating.

I glanced at the time on my phone.

Revision was not a priority and to be frank, I was procrastinating going back to Mama's house to collect my things. I'd asked Helen to pack a very specific list of clothes into suitcases and she'd messaged me a few hours ago informing me it was ready.

I meant what I said to Mama during our last discussion. Gabriel had agreed to me moving in with him too. It was a done deal. Set in stone. Despite this, I knew Mama would try to convince me to stay at home so I planned to collect the suitcase once she had gone to sleep.

As a result, I had some time to kill.

"Pierre. Get lunch with me."

He looked stunned for a moment, before running his hand over his short hair. Was that a faint blush on his cheek? That's hilarious.

"Yes! Yes, of course."

My hands momentarily to my arms. They were getting a bit too wide for my liking.

"Actually, coffee. Let's get coffee. I'll go shower now but meet me at the reception in ten minutes."

when world collide, lol. i have to say, there's a tonne of hints to future occurrences in this chapter so take notes (;

poem at the top which i though was representative of talisa and gabriel's relationship, thoughts?

vote and comment! kiwi x