26- I wish I knew

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Aurora's POV

Xander sits by his desk in silence. The only thing that can be heard is Xanders pen swiftly moving over paper. From my spot on the couch, it looks like he's drawing but I could be mistaken. After last night, I dare not speak to him. Although he seems calm now, I know he's mad at me. 

I don't know his reasons or if he even has any but I do know that he doesn't want me here. 

I clear my throat, causing Xander to look up from his paper and over at me. Somehow he knows that I want to speak up, he was probably listening to my thoughts. 

"Yes?" He is the first to speak. 

"I was just wondering if I could go to Clairy," I mumble under my breath as my head falls. A quiet sigh escapes Xander's lips. 

"Go." 

I don't utter a word before leaving the room. I run through halls before reaching Clairy's door, knocking on it loudly. The door is pulled open and an angry Clairy stands at the opening, her eyes scanning above my head. I clear my throat causing Clairy's eyes to snap down. 

"Aurora," she breathes out, "it's just you." I smile politely as I nod my head. She opens the door further and lets me inside. "Is Xander coming?" 

"No, I'm by myself." 

"Why is that?" Clairy wonders as she leads me to her bed where we both sit down. 

"He's mad at me," I sigh, for some reason feeling a weight on my chest from uttering those words. 

What is happening to me? First I helped him yesterday and now I care if he's mad at me or not?! Well, and then there was that whole scenario where I actually wanted to be close to him last night. My body and mind are playing tricks on me. Maybe there's something wrong with my food; maybe someone's poisoning it with small doses each time?

"I'll need you to elaborate, darling," she starts, "why is he mad at you?" 

"I wish I knew why," I sigh as I fall onto my back on the bed. My hair flies everywhere, causing me to brush it out of my face. "All I know is that he came home drunk and pissed last night." 

"Did you say drunk?" she asks as worry takes over her features, making wrinkles form on her forehead.  I nod my head, not wanting to talk about this topic. "Last time I saw him drinking was when dad died. That's 350 years ago." her eyes find the floor as tears form in her eyes as I sit up. Instinctively my hand finds her shoulder, my thump rubbing softly against her skin. 

"What could I've done to make him drink again?" I ask after a moment of silence. Clairy looks up at me, her gaze scanning me over for a moment before sighing. 

"I don't know." 

Once again defening silence fills the room. Clairy lays down on the bed as I follow her. 

"How about a movie?" I say after a while.

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