[Eglantine]: I wound to heal

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| Chapter Twelve |

My eyes are wide open, my mind is awake, but I can't move or speak.

I can see the darkness swallowing my room, can feel my heart race from fear of imagining something I shouldn't, but I can't force my body and mind to function.

It's sleep paralysis... again, and I hate it. I hate how my feet won't move even when I try to force them to, how my eyes won't blink or close, and how my mouth won't open in a scream. I feel a teardrop run down my cheek because of my helplessness and I smile mentally because at least I can feel the wetness on my skin.

Latte, ballet, sunrises, butterflies...

I started to have these episodes after the accident years ago, and I can't do anything other than mentally repeat all the things that make me happy until I eventually fall asleep again.

Before, it used to be more terrifying. I'd lie in bed facing the ceiling, without moving or making a sound, while my mind would play tricks on me. I'd imagine seeing a hairy demon hovering over me, studying me with big black eyes. I'd imagine the ceiling covered with tiny insects, red eyes staring at me from the corner and so much more, but the worst is when I see my mom.

She is always hanging from the ceiling upside down, her mouth open in a silent scream and eyes staring at me... Exactly how my eyes caught her for a short instance as our car rolled and came to a stop on the side of the road.

Landscapes, Friends, shoes, dimples, our treehouse, Connor as a kid...

It's all in my head, of course, nothing I see during these episodes is real and I know it, but I can't stop myself from seeing them anyway no matter how hard I try.

I meant it when I told Connor that he could never destroy me because I destroy me.

My mind is my most dangerous enemy and that... is the scariest thing ever.

***

My cold doesn't go away for another day, so I stay at home again. This time, though, I don't let either Sydney or Jack skip their classes to babysit me, because I feel relatively okay.

I try to brush off last night, the sleep paralysis, and the reality of them being back in my life again after almost a year. Even though it's extremely hard not to dwell on it, I spend the day trying to work on my final project for the semester and narrowing down the list of characters I want to be for this Halloween.

I LOVE Halloween, it's my favorite holiday because it was mom's favorite. She'd always go out of her way to make everything look extremely festive. She would decorate our home with fake corpses, ravens, pumpkins, black cats, and such. We'd always match our outfits and complete each other.

After I lost her, I could never stop celebrating it the way she used to, even though I knew it made dad hate me even more. I just... I still wanted to feel her presence in my life, and in a way, it made me feel closer to her than anything else. In a way, celebrating Halloween the way I knew she'd approve, made me feel like she was still alive. And now, with my bracelet gone, I need it more than ever.

After deciding on a character and ordering some details I need for my outfit online, I check the new assignments with my coursemates to not miss anything. I can't lose the chance of becoming the best landscape architect and covering the world with greenery!

I finally go to school on Thursday morning, feeling as if nothing has happened at all. I don't feel like I might pass out and my head doesn't ache at all, but once I reach the auditorium for my first class, my heart sinks.

The thought of seeing Connor's face and having to sit throughout all my classes with him sounds completely terrible. Why did he have to attend all the same courses with me, that cruel arse!?

I take a good minute to mentally pray to God, wishing Connor's decided to skip the classes just like he usually does, and then finally step inside the room.

My blood rushes to my ears as I scan the room on my way to a vacant seat at the front. I know that if Connor decides to bless us with his presence, he will probably get a seat at the very back and pretend he can go unnoticed by everyone. Ha, as if someone would miss those dark green eyes of his.

Looking around, I notice that most of the students are already seated, some chatting, some working on a project or doing random stuff before the instructor shows up. Unlike the other times I was excited to get a glimpse of Connor, today I let out a relieved breath when I don't see him with the students he hangs out with.

There's a small smile on my lips as I pull my iPad and book out of my bag to settle in. I guess God is really on my side today - the weather is sunny, my first class is my favorite subject, I had an iced latte in the morning and Connor is nowhere around me. See? Perfect!

Setting my things up, I start to continue the sketch of an amusement park I started yesterday because there's still a good 15 minutes before the class starts. I'm so into it, that at first I almost miss the huge presence behind me.

Suddenly, a body leans over my shoulder, and I almost drop my pencil when I hear Connor's voice right next to my ear.

"You seem to be in a really good mood, Jones, and it's getting on my nerves," he says with a smirk evident in his voice and I almost die from a heart attack.

I turn around in my chair so fast, that my neck almost snaps, which reminds me, I need to start working out if I'm not going to pick up ballet.

My eyes land on the devil's chest first, before they travel up to his strong jaw, sinful lips, straight nose, and finally his eyes.

His eyes are what always undo me.

Although this time, I don't let my gaze linger on them and strip me bare of all rational thought. I pull back from him, pressing myself against my desk as he slowly pulls back and leans casually in his seat.

Wait... I'm pretty sure there was a girl sitting behind me. Did he make her move so he could torment me?

Indeed, what an arse!

Connor throws an arm over the back of his chair lazily, the muscles on his arms flexing, and looks down at me like he owns the place. My eyes linger on him for a minute, taking him in, in his all-black outfit - black t-shirt, dark jeans, dark baseball cap, and sneakers. My heartbeat speeds up from the sight of him and I wonder if he can hear it too from where he's sitting.

Forcing cold indifference in my gaze, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing his effect on me, I smile even bigger at him.

"Well, one more reason for me to freaking glow with happiness," I answer, trying everything in me to sound unbothered.

How dare he approach me after everything he's done to me since last Friday? How dare he even breathe the same air as me, let alone cut my air supply with his burning gaze.

"Jones, darling, you can use the word 'fuck' in front of people, it won't make you any less of a virgin."

"Sure, go ahead and make fun of a woman's sexual life like it's the 60s." I glare. "Now, please kindly get me rid of your presence. I mean, weren't you the one that didn't want to do anything with me?" I raise a brow, waiting for his answer.

"I changed my mind," a smirk finds its way to his lips as his eyes continue staring down at me eerily. "Now I want to get under your skin and destroy you from the inside. Although knowing you, I think you'll love the attention even if it's negative."

My hands itch to transform into feasts and punch him across the face so hard he flies out of the window behind him just like in those badass movies. I truly think I need a medal for controlling the urge to do it.

Instead, I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath, so I don't scream my frustration out in front of everyone.

After the hurtful shit he throws at my face on daily bases, does he think I'll spend my energy on him?

Opening my eyes, I hold his green ones with a disgusted stare, before giving him a cold and fake smile.

"You know what? Go. To. Hell, Trouble. And burn there until there's nothing left of you, and maybe then I'll care enough to give you the time of day."

I give him one last glance, before starting to turn back and continue my sketch as if having his eyes on me alone didn't make my heart faint.

Urgh, my stupid, stupid heart needs more time to get the memo.

I'm barely even facing forward when I feel him grab my arm and force me back to face him.

His smirk is gone now, his eyes screaming murder as he leans toward me in a blink of an eye. He's so close that when he speaks, I can practically feel his breath on my face.

"Don't you fucking dare turn your back on me." He hisses. "You hear me?"

"You are a psychopath," I mumble under my breath, trying to pull my arm out of his grip, but he tightens his hold on it.

"One more word and you'll regret ever having the ability to talk."

If he really thinks this scares me he has something else coming.

"Fuck. You." I say stressing every word, as I stare him dead in the eye. "Now let go of me before I scream," I say through clenched teeth.

"Go ahead and do it." He shoots with a confident smirk. "I'm dying to tell the whole school how you begged me to fuck you last Friday night, even though you have a boyfriend."

"You, lying asshole!"

I don't want to believe that he'll be cruel enough to spread the lie about me, but all the hatred I see in his eyes even now as he looks at me, makes me think he really can do it. And the thought of seeing the disappointment on Jack's face...I won't be able to stand it.

"Now," he says, letting go of my arm and getting to his feet. "Stand up and follow me out, we need to talk."

"In another life, yeah, maybe." I shoot back, rubbing the spot on my arm his fingers rested on seconds ago.

"You have five seconds to walk out the door before I come back and follow through with my threat. Five seconds," and with this, he walks past me and right out of the door.

I sit there, stunned and confused, wondering what the hell he needs from me this time around. Does he think I'm his punching bag? If so, then I will show him that punching bags can punch back harder.

Before I know it, I'm on my feet like a storm, furious to punch him in the face now. Really, I won't hold back this time! Nope! Not at all!

I walk past a couple of classrooms, following Connor's shadowy form as he turns right and disappears behind the corner. Right when I reach the corner and am about to follow him, a hand grabs me by the arm and pulls me inside a dark room.

I hear a click and barely have time to realize I'm locked in the art room when Connor's face comes into view throwing all my rational thoughts out of my head. He's hovering above me, his face millimeters away from mine, as his fingers wrapped around my wrists hold them next to my sides.

"Let go of me, now!" I tell him, and try to shake off his hold on me, but it feels like he's not even slightly bothered by my resistance.

Instead, his eyes study mine way too concentrated, as if... as if he's trying to see right through me. No, as if he CAN see right through me.

Having him finally look at me, really look at me, is soul-crushing, because I realize he's not looked at me like this since the day he left our hometown.

It's terrifying how much I missed it.

"Your eyes..." He trails off, still studying me carefully. "What's wrong?"

I glare at him before allowing myself to melt from his proximity for a second, and the gentle voice he's talking to me with. And then I turn my head to the side and stare at anything but at him, refusing to answer the question.

The sunlight creeps into the room through the window, helping me see the unfinished statues placed throughout the room and the beautiful mess the artists working in this room have made.

I try to concentrate on the tiny specks of dust visible under the light, while my heart is beating violently against my chest.

His loosens the grip on me and before I can miss his warmth, he reaches and takes my chin gently between his thumb and pointer finger.

Slowly, so slowly he turns my face to him and makes me stare up at him.

"What's wrong? And this is the last time I'm going to ask, Mia."

His cold command makes my lips curve into a cynical smile because if he thinks I'm going to tell him anything to use against me, he's goddamn wrong. Besides, it's not like anything IS really wrong.

"You think you have the right to ask me this when all you've been doing since we met again, is bully me? You actually think I'm going to share anything with you? Tell me, Trouble, do you have bipolar disorder or memory loss?"

"I know you were sick, but it's more than that, isn't it?" He ignores me, mumbling deep in his thoughts, almost as if he's talking to himself, while my mouth hangs in surprise.

Why the hell is he doing this to me after last Friday night?

"How did you...?" I start but cut myself off, because of course he'd know I was sick. The guy found out my number within minutes when the only two people at school who had it were my best friends.

"What's happened?"

"For the last time - nothing." I let out an exhausted breath, before looking away.

"Surely you remember how much I hate liars, Mia. Now answer the goddamn question before I snap and murder your boyfriend right in the soccer field."

"He has nothing to do with anything! Besides, I have no idea why you even think something happened when I tol-"

"Your eyes..." he mumbles, his cold fingers tilting my chin higher, so our faces are on the same level.

"My eyes what?"

"They look dead."

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Author's Note

Hi, guys! Sorry for the very late update, but if you follow me on IG you must have seen the countdown I shared there, so at least I kept my promise to share the chapter at 3 PM (even though I am at work now) hahaha!

Any thoughts about Connor in this chapter? Did you notice that this is the first chapter Mia never once called him by his real name? Please do tell me, what you think about the chapter.

As for the next chapter, I promise it won't be late next week, so don't worry! See you soon!

~ Love, Mel