Sorrow | 18+

13 Miscalculated

A song to listen to: Heartache Every Moment by HIM

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Vivienne

I was dreaming about my maman and Zara, the happy memories I had with them until it all turned to nightmares. I stirred awake for a bit when I felt something in my throat. I barely fluttered my eyes open to see a pair of gentle hands tracing my throat, applying some cream. A calm, hushing voice lulled me back to sleep, the soothing hands moving to stroke my hair. I was cocooned in fluffiness and warmth, which made me feel safe. It kept the white dresses, Robert Laurent's hands and the evil words of my relatives away. The smell of my father's cigars tried to intervene but couldn't overpower the familiar scent that kept me in maman's sunny flower garden. In a short moment of relief where the real world couldn't hurt me. The illusion of happiness was always worth it, even if waking up broke me all over again.

I don't know how long I had slept, when I finally woke up. The sun was up and high so at least it was the next day. The curtains of the window were not drawn and I was dying of the heat. A grey blanket was wrapped around me as well as the familiar hands. Zero was hugging me, almost crushing me to his warm body. I moved, but his grip didn't loosen up. I looked up, he was clearly sleeping. The mirror on the ceiling showed that he hadn't changed his clothes from yesterday and we were laying over the black, silky bedcover. I inched my arm, asserting how much I could move it, before plunging it as hard as I could towards his chest. It worked.

"Ouch, fuck", Zero mumbled, his hand flying to his chest. I rolled over to the other side away from him and untied myself from the blanket at the same time. I breathed deeply, taking a look at Zero's sleepy face, his dark eyes that shooted open looking for me. Eyes I couldn't take in. I turned around hastily and got up. I was also wearing the same dress, which was all crinkled. It was dirty and I saw a small tear at the hem, slashing through one of the strawberries. I fought against crying. It wasn't the time for it yet.

I was on my feet, dashing through the room before Zero even got a chance to rise from the bed. My name echoed behind me. I was fast and at the bottom of the stairs, when I heard the bedroom door slam. Two pairs of eyes were staring at me to stop my escape route. Cris and Cel were sitting on leather sofas, opposite from each other. Cris was in a casual t-shirt and straight trousers, his short hair pulled back. Cel was wearing ripped jeans and a string-top, playing with a knife between her painted fingers. Their curious gaze shooted between me and the one whose footsteps rushed to land the stairs.

"Vivienne", Zero's voice reached me and his hands landed on my shoulder. Goosebumps infiltrated my skin. I shaked his hand off immediately and turned to face him. His long hair was a mess and his clothes were more badly wrinkled than mine. Still he looked breathtaking, pulling my heartstrings.

"No, don't touch me, don't speak to me", I screamed to his pretty face, full of concern he didn't have the rights to show. The atmosphere was heavy with desperation, that didn't let me process anything.

"Please, Vivienne", he said quietly, sounding defeated. His hands closed, knuckles turning white. This wasn't what he was used to, pleading for something. I ignored him. I needed to get away.

"Celly, can you take me home?", I asked, moving my eyes to her brown ones. Immediately her knife slammed to the wooden coffee table, the blade embedded to it.

"Sure. Cris, your keys, thank you", she said to his brother, whose angry eyes were on the table. He tossed car keys from his pocket towards Cel, who catched them mid-air.

"You are fucking buying for a new coffee table. Be careful with the car", he murmured lowly, trying to inch the blade off. His gaze told that he was considering throwing knives towards his sister, who didn't give it a second thought.