(This is just a little drabble I wrote for Lian's birthday. Hope you enjoy. :) 3)
His eyes were the color of silver, like his hair, his skin. It was all foreign, unnatural but non the less beautiful and mysterious, just like London itself was. He let his hand graze against the lacy curtains, Charlotte's choice. Just then he heard the first drop of rain beat against the window and slither down the glass, triggering the downpour.
Lightning lit up the sky, cracking the thunder moments later.
He sat on his bed, stroking the case that held his violin. His fingers longed to touch the strings, to play the notes that eased every burden of every thought that sent him into the swirling confusion of haunted memories where screams and cries from the past rang in his ear clear as day. Clear as if they were still happening. Whispers of the truth of his past.
His slid his fingers against his eyelids, pushing the memories as far away from him as he could. The screams still so clear in his ears he shivered.
Jem heard the knock at the door that broke him from his reverie. His pale lashes casting shadows on his cheeks with every flash of light.
"Yes?" He asked, just loud enough for his voice to reach past the door to the person on the other side.
Sophie tucked her head in, glancing nervously at Jem.
"Dinner's ready." She said quietly. Jem glanced at her, smiling gently.
"Thank you, Sophie but I'm not feeling well today."
Sophie bit her lip, as if debating with herself wether or not to speak.
"Jem." She finally whispered his name, his first name, as if they were good friends. The look in her eyes as she watched him, the look of complete, broken adoration, the look Jem always missed because he was never looking at her. He looked past her.
"Yes Sophie?" His voice was steady.
"I... I hope you're alright." She said before shutting the door quietly behind her.
Jem glanced at it, her presence still lingering in the room. She was warm and bright. He sighed, laying himself on the bed as he heard his family downstairs, Jessamine complaining, Will giving her a sarcastic comment as a response, Charlotte scolding them both in her most motherly fashion and...
BOOM!
...and Henry. He sighed, this was his life now. He couldn't complain about that, no matter how hard he tried or how much Will got into trouble or how many times Jessamine complained about ... well anything. He wouldn't complain about Charlotte, or Henry. They were a messed up, broken little family and he had learned the value of one of those a long time ago.
The London streets fogged up against the window as the rain stopped, the steamy air creating tendrils around the Institute.
And he was still alone, as alone as he had been the day he moved from Shanghai. He opened the window and breathed, letting his breath mingle with the fog, becoming one with it. He was jealous of it, of a single breath that fit itself in.
He coughed hard, feeling the blood make it's way down his chin as the cold wrapped itself around his lungs, around his body. Reaching his bedside table, he pressed the drug to his mouth. It soothed his body, relaxing him. He closed his eyes to rest his mind, close himself up from the rest of the world, leaving no lingering thoughts to dwell on.