Title- Blue Perfection
Summary- After getting out of an abusive relationship after killing her boyfriend out of self-defense, Isabella Swan finds herself landed in a mental hospital. The red eyes that haunt her dreams, burning into her every step, however, bring back a past that she isn't ready to confront and before she knows it she's the most wanted person in the country.
Pairing- Peter/Bella
Beginning A/N: ***WARNING- Isabella's uses the f-word ALOT and most other expletives A LOT. So, if you're a "lighter" *cough* pansy *cough* person and will start sobbing when you read her using adult language...Cry away from your computer, hun, it'll kill your keyboard.
Chapter One
"I can still feel the footprint embed in my side..."
It was the last place I wanted to be.
"I can still feel the burn from where he kicked me down..."
But I couldn't stop the nightmares that were ripping into me, tearing screams that I wanted to hold in from my throat. Adrenaline was a constant presence in my veins, preparing me for the moment that they said that he wasn't truly gone, preparing myself to run. But where was there to run other than into her arms?
"Dug his nails into my skin..."
It was torture. The pain. The decisions. The fear. The numbness. It was all too encompassing, smothering.
"Brandished a knife, while I screamed, cowered in fear." My eyes found hers, blank as I cut off the false emotion that had choked my voice before. "Is that what you want to hear, Victoria?"
But this place was supposed to help me. Or so my "best friend" Dr. Emma told me. Even now, she looked at me with pity resting deep within her blue eyes. She didn't even bother to hide it. Did she think that I couldn't see it? That emotion was sickening; it made me want to launch across this table and rake my nails down the pretty flesh of her face. How could she have pity for something that she never felt?
My eyes stayed where they were, cast down low in a perpetual gaze on the white of the plastic table. I was staring so hard that I could make out the numerous dark flecks that colored the pale plastic. A group of three hundred was in a dark cluster and my vision was blurring as I tried desperately to count the others around them, my mouth moving in a silent blur as I counted the words, ignoring whatever Dr. Emma was saying. My head bobbed and dipped slightly as I counted, my body rocking back and forth lightly on its own accord. My fingers, despite the thick fabric, dug into the flesh of my knees-which was clad in the hideously pink uniform that was reserved for the "crazies"-as I hugged them closer to my chest, finding it difficult to do so due to the limited space on the seat of the plastic chair. Everything was plastic here. "Three hundred twenty."
"Bella?" It irritated me how familiar she was already acting towards me. She hadn't asked if it was okay if she called me Bella. She had just presumed that it would be alright.
"Three hundred twenty-one."
"Bella, are you listening?"
Her voice was so fucking annoying. Always prodding, trying to find some deeper meaning to my actions when there simply wasn't one. "Three hundred twenty-two."
"Are you having difficulty breathing?"
Blatant irritation tinged my face. Obviously if I was fucking counting, then I wasn't having trouble breathing. For good measure though, I muttered the next number louder, making sure to clearly enunciate the words, "Three hundred twenty-three."
The warmth of her hand found its way to my arm, jerking slightly when she felt how cool my body temperature was. Regaining her senses, having remembered about the medical condition with my body heat, she began to speak in what was supposed to be a soothing voice. However, to me, it made nails scraping themselves down a chalkboard sound heavenly. She was that fucking agitating. "Bella, I want you to calm down. You're having a panic attack."
I was so thrown off by the idiotic claim that my counting stuttered to a stop. My eyes flicked from the table to hers so fast that she moved her concerned face out of my space, startled. "Am I?" The question was practically dripping with the disdain I felt for the overly purple woman. Her figure was drenched in a purple pants-suit with lavish, flashy golden jewelry that hung around her neck, sparkled on her fingers, and was snaked around her arms. Honestly, St. John's had to be on a budget cut or something. The woman had no idea what she was talking about, and was overall disturbing. Wouldn't the bangles be irritating to certain patients? And all that jewelry was just an all you can eat buffet to the starved kleptomaniac that resided in room 133B.
"Ecoute, Dr. Emma. Je te deteste. You sicken me," I hissed, the French naturally weaving itself into my voice, on accord of Denis' natural language. There were certain things that came out of my experience with him that turned out to be helpful.
"Do I honestly look like I'm having trouble breathing?" Surprise colored her gaze at the level of my anger as I leaned forward, my voice aiming to bite. My hand grasped my cheek. "Am I flushed? Am I muttering nonsense?" Before she could open her mouth I released my knees from my grasp and slid to my feet. "No. I'm fucking counting goddamn specks on the motherfucking table because your voice is so fucking aggravating that it makes me want to kill myself!"
The area around us quieted instantly as all the nurses stopped their frantic scribbling and typing, some dropping what they were holding, and the security guards spared nervous glances over at our 'secluded' therapy table. It was rare when they actually had to do their job, and when they did it involved giving someone the "booty juice" as Mikayla, my eccentric fourteen year old roommate, so eloquently put it. The other patients, sitting around the snack machine in a suspicious crowd that obviously boasted a trading of drugs-not that any of the staff here was smart enough to notice that-all watched with wide eyes at my display. Across the room, closer to the hallway, Derrick, a self-harm patient, and Adam, previously mentioned kleptomaniac, sent me mad, encouraging grins.
Adam's green eyes sparkled as a devilish smile curled up his lips, the happy expression directed towards me before they locked on Dr. Emma's glittering necklace. His fingers twitched, and I instantly turned my attention back to Mrs.-I-Have-No-Clue-What-The-Fuck-I'm-Talking-About so that I couldn't be called out as a witness to Adam's theft.
Her face was frozen for a few seconds before her delicate fingers slowly slid down to the session recorder that clipped to her blouse under the guise of a supposedly inconspicuous broach. Bitch needed to get her money back. Her cherry blossom, bright pink lips parted as she attempted to whisper-and failed considering the fact that her voice was so fuck-annoying-into the shimmering gold, "Make note that patient Swan, Isabella is a suicide risk."
What. The. Fuck.
Adam's eyes flicked to mine, dissuasion thick in his gaze, but it was lost on me.
"Now, Bella," she said calmly as she released the recorder, folding her hands back neatly in her lap, unaware of the fifty different fucking ways that I was planning to kill her. My body shuddered as anger seeped into my face, replacing my usual sarcastic disposition. My nails stung as they sliced into the flesh of my palm, my fists shuddering I was clenching them so hard. "There is no reason for you to hurt yourself here. We are just trying to help you. Besides, I'm your friend."
"You fucking cun-" A sound of pure anger cut off my voice, clawing free from my throat as I lunged towards her, all purpose intent on maiming and disfiguring. My hands found her perfectly blonde hair, fingers weaving themselves in them tightly as I dragged her head down and slammed it onto the table, hopefully hard enough to hurt the bitch. The scream that ran from her failed to drown out the calling of the two scrawny security details for backup into their walkie-talkies.
"You think I'm fucking insane? You think sitting me in a room with just plastic will protect you? I'll fucking kill you; choke you with your own damn intestines bitch. If you don't fucking quit spouting such bullshit diagnoses I'll find a way to shove my hand so far up your ass that I'll still be able to do my fucking nails," I growled, relishing in the excessive mascara that practically colored her face with her tears as she helplessly screeched for the guards to help her.
It was fuck-annoying. She was fuck-annoying. This place was fucking annoying. Everything was just so fucking grating. I hated it here. Everyone acted like they knew what they were talking about, but they didn't. The hospital was underfunded, the doctors were perverts, eating everything with spoons was steadily pissing me off, and I, honestly, was seriously about to call in a bomb threat just so that we could all be evacuated and I could make my escape from these fucking idiotic people.
Adam, the avid Y.O.L.O. supporter, quickly ran up, scooping up the broach that had fallen when I grabbed the doctor, crooning to it softly before his eyes met mine and he cast me a flirtatious wink. Backing up warily once he saw the approaching security guards, he retreated, disappearing down the hallway to go hide it in his room in a place that no one would probably ever find.
"You ruined my face!" A line of blood trickled down the purple woman's forehead from a thin cut that the table had inflicted, and I frowned at the minimal damage that the plastic had cause.
Not perturbed by the now sprinting security, I made to spit in her face as a perfect last 'fuck you' but before the saliva was able to be launched I was tackled by what felt like a wall, which meant that Bernerd, the largest security guard, had finally reached us. The bastard practically squished my lithe form, pinning my struggling arms as I tried to latch onto Dr. Emma's ankle to drag the bitch down with me. As I fell through, my reaching hand seemed to elongate and everything lengthened through my sudden tunnel vision. Trying desperately to keep my eyes open, I managed to catch a glimpse of Jacob-ironically that was the name of the outrageously spray tanned elderly owner that reminded of me of Jacob Black, whom of which was the very person who had me committed. From what I could make out the opulent blond was comforting the other blonde asinine that supposedly held a psychology degree, saying calming things to her that were lost on my ears as I drifted beyond the end of consciousness.
*...*...*...*...*
"Is this what you wanted?" My eyes studied hers, watching her movements warily even though I knew that she could move so quickly that she could crush my esophagus before I had a chance to even scream. The false bravery that flowed through my veins fueled the words that burst from my shaking form as I advanced the volatile vampire. "To be eternally wandering, revenge the only thing on your mind? Are you pacified now? He's dead! Denis is dead and it's your goddamn fault!" Emotion choked up my voice as I tried to keep my gaze from landing on the body, drenched in thick decadence.
Catlike eyes flickered maliciously, soaked fiery curls still flailed wildly around her shoulders, face twisted into a heinously taunting grin. "Oh but, darling Isabella, it was all you." Her voice, while dripping with sugar and halos, had an ever present dangerous octave to it that had shivers running up my spine, tingling across my skin. Her ruby eyes glimmered with excitement and her grin stretched as she stepped closer, so close that I could feel the chill that her body gave off. "You're the one who slit his throat, human. Not me." Examining her dirt bitten nails, she continued on as if she hadn't stolen the breath from my throat already. "Self defense, you call it? Tsk tsk."
"H-he was going to kill me..." I choked out past the tears that were clouding in my throat and eyes, feeding the lump that seemed to prevent speech. Scarlet slipped past my paling lips, trailing down my chin as the copper bubbled in my mouth, overflowing. I pressed my hand tightly to the wound that I could barely feel anymore on my stomach in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Denis' small knife was still embed in my flesh, the larger one abandoned by his stationary person.
A feral hiss broke through Victoria's lips, her eyes turning into narrowed slits. As she stepped forward, her hips swaying in a stalking manner, I took scrambled steps backward in response, eliciting a grin from her. Her nostrils flared slightly as she finally took in the scent of my blood saturating the air. Eyes a flat black, she cocked her head to the side as she enunciated my name excruciatingly slow. "Is-a-bel-la."
Red eyes vastly different from Victoria's and darkening by the moment flooded my subconscious, disrupting the memory that chose to haunt my dreams. As the images blurred, returning to a safer place in my mind, a deep voice was the last thing that I heard. A loud, insistent, "Wake up."
Inappropriate words were on the forefront of my mind as I groggily woke up, pain surging through my body as my eyes fluttered open only to be assaulted by the light that streamed in from the open blinds. "Fuck…" I groaned miserably. "W-What happened?"
Jumping into view was Mikayla, her raven colored pigtails splaying around her as she raised her hands in front of her well gifted chest and began to shake her ass like we were in a club-which she wouldn't have been allowed in anyways. "They stuck you with the booty bo-booty bo-booty-bo-booty-bo-booty bo-booty booty bo-booty bo-booty bo-booty bo-booty-" Her singing instantly quieted as I gave her an uninterested but pointed stare. Clearing her throat, the fourteen year old scratched her arm apologetically. "They stuck you in the ass," she said plainly, her brown eyes sparkling at me as they watched me with keen interest.
Groaning, I attempted to sit up, wincing as I felt my muscles ache in protest due to their fatigue and Bernerd. Running a hand through my hair messily, I peeked out at her from beneath the brunette strands. "Don't use expletives. You're too young," was my oh-so intelligently hypocritical response. The remnants of the drug trudged through my system, making my body protest the stretch that I let loose, curling my toes in that long lasting exertion of relief.
"Beeeellllaaaaa," Mikayla drew out in a whine as she hopped onto my bed, making me huff as her weight landed on my stomach. Her storm cloud eyes burned into mine, teeming with questions that I honestly felt too fucking exhausted to answer.
Throwing an arm over my eyes tiredly, I cast a glance at her from beneath it, taking a deep breath to cool the unprovoked irritation in my voice. "What?"
Pressing her lips so tightly together so that it was pursed in her fishie-pout, the fourteen year old jutted out her bottom lip, her pigtails brushing against the apples of her cheeks. Eyes bright, she leaned forward so that she was more in my space. A Cheshire cat grin stretched itself across her tiny face, her expression bubbling with mischief. "Guess what happened?"
"You finally grew up?" I deadpanned, feeling the grogginess slowly dissipate from my aching limbs. The bed sheet was scratchy as hell, and I was already feeling a breeze which meant that I was wearing a hospital gown once again, instead of the pink top and pants that we were allowed.
She scowled at me, blowing me a quick raspberry before she continued. "Noooo. They fired Dr. Emma!"
Unable to stop it, a wide grin took over my face, and I knew that my eyes were twinkling with satisfaction. Was she fucking serious? I was oozing happiness from every pore.
A smirk lifted her expression as she rocked backwards in her excitement, causing me to hiss a warning to her as her boney butt bit into my sensitive stomach. Instantly ceasing her movement, the grin still in place, she blurted, "The word is that they did some digging and found out that her degree and diploma were forged! She's not even a psychologist! And that's not even the best part!" I honestly didn't see how it could get any better; my stomach hurt I was laughing so hard by this point. It had been so fucking obvious, and I'd only known her two years. "She was arrested! Mr. Davenport called the coppers on her. It was so fuc-freaking hilarious! She tried to run and they had to tase her! I peed myself I laughed so hard."
My laughter siphoned off into a violent coughing fit due to the restricting pressure on my stomach, and I finally had to push her off of me. The overly large pink fluff, that they must've given her to replace her urine soaked clothes, swallowed her petite form as she rolled of the bed with a yelp.
Instantaneously, she popped right back up, her hair mused and eyes shiny with happiness as she promptly announced, "I heard what Mr. Davenport said! He said that means that they have to bring in another therapist person and they'll have to reevaluate everyone's cases. We can go free, Bella! I can see my mom and you can see your dad. Everythi-" Her voice choked off as it slowly blanched, tears beginning to fall down her usually happy colored cheeks. "Everything…" She buried her face in the sickly pale green comforter in an attempt to stifle her tears. A whisper escaped her, muffled, but I still heard it. "can go back to normal. Maybe they'll love us again now that we're not crazy anymore."
Leaning over the side of the bed, my eyes softening, I grasped her hand, smoothing my thumb over the delicate skin. "Of course your mother loves you, Mikayla." I struggled to push down my writhing emotions at my own mother's blatant rejection of me, attempting to bury it beneath the wall. "She never stopped loving you."
Sniffling heavily, she lifted her head, guiding her reddened eyes to my face. I watched as they finally came into focus as she began to listen to what I was saying. "Then why doesn't she visit? Why doesn't she send me letters or e-mails? I haven't heard from her in almost a year." Before I could say anything that could possible rectify what she was saying, she bluntly cut me off before I even began. "Don't say it, Bella. I'm not little anymore. You can be honest. I know that she hates me. She hates having a crazy, stupid girl for a daughter. She's ashamed."
"Shut up, Mikayla," I whispered softly, making her eyes, which had lowered in her sudden sadness, snap right back to mine. "You're not crazy. You're not stupid. And if she is ashamed of someone as amazing and as loving as you then she's the one who's crazy." Grasping her chin lightly, I stated calmly, "Fuck her." At her widened eyes, I smiled encouragingly. "That, and that only," I added quickly. "can you say."
The normally bubbly girl wet her lips, tasting the salt there before she whispered in a dry voice, "Fuck her…"
I raised an eyebrow at her sudden meekness, releasing her hand so that I could bump her shoulder with mine. "Are you serious? Miss Mikayla-Motor-Mouth can't do better than that?" A smidgen of desperation colored my face as I tried to goad a better response from her. She was fragile, and even though I knew she would never get that depressed, I didn't want her to slip into the all-consuming black hole that I had been plagued with when I first came here. I didn't want her to hate herself when she finally realized that her parents didn't care just like mine hadn't. And it seemed like that moment had finally arrived.
"Fuck her!" A tentative smile.
"Louder," I cooed, leaning forward and tickling her ribcage without mercy, finding the sensitive spots with ease.
Shrieking through her giggles and trying to swat at me, "Fuck her!" her smile blinded me.
"SHUT UP YOU BLOODY WANKERS; SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING LISTEN TO THE FAIRY GODDESS' WISDOM BEFORE SHE KILLS US ALL!" The sudden scream made us both jump, silence falling over us. "SO SHUT THE HELL UP!"
The only sound was the creaking of the bed as we stilled, looking at each other slowly. Casting a grin at our doorway I shouted, "Ernest or Phillip, tell Ms. Goddess I said hi!"
"Will do, Bella!" Phillip replied with abrupt contentment from his room across the hall, making Mikayla have to shove her hand over her mouth to stifle her bursting laughter. It something that we did often over the past year: fuck with the actual loonies.
Ernest/Phillip was a man somewhere into his thirties who was afflicted with Dissociative Identity Disorder. In other words, spilt personality was prominent in his mannerisms, as well as delusions. Ernest was always ranting and raving about some fucking fairy, while Phillip was always laid-back and shared his banana pudding at lunch time. It honestly made me ponder whether there could actually be fairies considering the fact that vampires were real, but I doubted.
"Fuck her," Mikayla said, nodding to herself before she slipped into a standing position, rising up on her tip-toes as she raised her arms a stretched, exhaling a long relieved sigh. "I'm going to go to bed." A sly grin was directed in my direction. "With you getting the booty juice again, and Dr. Emma getting fired, I'm worn out." "G'night, Bella," was her yawn as she retreated to the far side of the room, nearest to tiny suicide-preventing window, and promptly plopped herself onto her bed.
Shifting myself, I finally took notice of the throbbing in my ass and glared at the ceiling briefly, thinking up other ways to kill the bitch of a fake doctor. Calming myself with the fact that her high-end, prissy self was stuck in a rotting jail cell full of potentially volatile gangs looking for fresh meat, I settled under the covers, trying to ignore how uncomfortable wearing clothing while sleeping was. A thing that "Dr." Emma had said was that I my hatred for wearing clothes while sleeping—which she had managed to wheedle out of me when I was on the happy pills before they cut me off—was unhealthy and a symptom of dreingkslysoiosis—which obviously we all now know doesn't even fucking exist. I clenched my fists, catching some of the comforter in my grasp. Had the hospital personnel not heard of Google? We could've solved this shit, sent everyone home who was actually sane, and kicked the bitch out sooner.
It was her fault that I was still stuck in this detestable place two years later. My breathing picked up as my anger did, starting to become erratic.
But... Jacob. It was his entire fault. If he hadn't committed me none of this would've happened.
No…It was Edward's. Him and his fucking family. If they hadn't brought me into their world and spit me out then I never would have been depressed enough to let Denis beat. Wouldn't have been depressed enough to let him spill the precious blood that Edward coveted so much just to spite his memory.
The blame game that had taken root in my mind slowly came to a cease.
"I'm just a bitter bitch," I whispered to nothing, as I closed my eyes as I ran a hand through my hair to calm myself, actually recognizing the fact that I was about to have an actual panic attack. "…with no one else to blame but myself." Not even Victoria.
Opening my eyes what felt like minutes later, I slackened my death grip on the bed.
Mikayla forgot that creepy ass bear, I noted as my eyes caught site of the blue ball of buff siting on the end table, looking like a cutesy cub on steroids. Was that seriously what the toy companies thought kids found comforting? Their production team had to be on something, maybe a little puff-puff.
Dragging myself out of bed, I began to walk only to stub my toe on the end of the bed. Muttering a curse under my breath, my pace quickened to avoid hitting anything else.
"You forgot this, kiddo," I whispered, tucking it under her loosely wrapped arm, giving her a warm kiss on her forehead like I remembered my father doing to me when I was younger.
"I love you, Mom," she mumbled, blinking those gray eyes at me wearily before giving a soft content sigh as she gently drifted off into the realm of unconsciousness, leaving me staring at her blankly for a minute until I finally reined in my internal emotions.
"Can't fucking deal with kids and all this emotional shit," I mumbled as I flicked off the light and walked back over to my bed, trying to ignore the stinging in my ass that throbbed with every step that I took.
Fucking shots. I hated sedatives with a passion. Every single time that I get stuck with that damn needle—which hadn't been happening recently actually considering that I was warned to be good or they would switch to restraints—it always hurt like a bitch afterwards.
Climbing back into the itchy bed, I leaned back against the metal headboard, trying to tune out the muttering of Ernest across the hall, which was quickly escalating in volume. It wasn't long until there was the scuffle of a nurse padding into his room, commanding him to be quiet, and then leaving, silence following his or her departure. It was with that silence that I drifted.
Naturally, though James' venom had been sucked out of my wrist, it had affected me. My body temperature, though not as low as that of the vampires, was still oddly low for a human. As a result, I unconsciously sought out heat no matter the situation. Half dazed and still half asleep I felt heat radiating faintly near me. Unknowingly, I snuggled closer towards the incalescence. Pressing my freezing fingertips to the source, warmth exploded through them as I met bare skin. Subconsciously, I recognized the calefaction.
"A-Adam?" Sleep was thick in my voice as my eyes fluttered open, landing on the kleptomaniac who had his arm curled around my body.
This had become a regular occurrence since my first year when he had helped me through one of my legit panic attacks; it was moments later that colored us fast friends.
On the subject of him invading my bed space though, it didn't matter where I was. Somehow Adam managed to always sneak out of his room and into mine, where he would promptly become a snuggle bug. And being the avid kleptomaniac that he was, usually I would wake up missing random articles of clothing. This time, my right sock was nowhere to be found. Staring blankly at my toes, I wiggled them out of boredom. Sighing, my attention span broken, I tossed a glance at Adam only to see his peacefully sleeping face.
Freeing an arm I brushed a black strand out of his eyes, watching his response of opening them languidly to reveal an emerald green. "Hey…" he sighed, his hand moving from my body to caress my cheek.
"Where's my sock?"
A smirk tilted his lips upwards giving him away despite the sudden innocent face he gained. "No idea; though I could have an idea of where your bra could go," he added, waggling his eyebrows.
Glaring at him in a warning, I cast a glance over a Mikayla. She mumbled nonsense before turning on her side, her steroids-bear trapped in her tight grip as her light snores picked back up.
"Don't wake the fucking kid with your idiocy," I hissed under my breath, making sure to make my voice light so he would know that I was playing.
A dark eyebrow raised, he pulled me closer to him so that our bodies fit together, whispering, "I'll be quiet, Bella…" My heart thudded as he planted light kisses down the side of my jaw, his fingers stroking my arm, urging me to relax.
"Adam," I muttered uneasily as the heat of his mouth touched my skin of my neck and he began to rake his teeth over it. Though we were close, he hadn't truly shown any signs of returning the attraction that I joked—deadpanned as well—about having for him.
Heat flushed through my body as he rolled on top of me, his leg wedged in between my thighs. Pants escaped my lips and my back arched as he sucked on a particular sensitive part. "Fuck…Adam," I gasped as his moved his leg against my heated core. My fingers weaved themselves in his hair and I yanked to pull him back up to look at me. His eyes met mine, molten green, and he dipped his lips down to mine, molding ours together with a fervor that instantly caused heat to pool between my legs, eliciting a soft moan.
My hips bucked against his leg, seeking that much needed friction as our tongues battled for dominance. His arousal hardened through his pants, pressing against my hip. A hand trailed itself up my stomach, causing me to shiver, until it found my nipple straining against the thin fabric. Lips pulling from mine, other hand pulling down the neckline, his teeth found their way to the pebbled pink, scraping along it before he took it in his mouth. His tongue swirled around it and he began moving his leg against my core, freeing moans that I wanted to keep quiet. My hand instantly slipped down, pressing against his clothed length, beginning to palm it.
"Do you know how much I love you?"
The sudden gasp made me pause, the lust flickering between us, and look at him. His eyes were shining, face flushed in his arousal.
In that instant, I felt ashamed of myself. I loved Adam, yes, but I hadn't even begun to think about him in any way other than in a friendship or sexually (I had wet dreams that were awkward as fuck to have while he was lying next to me).
Fuck, I felt ashamed that I was practically dry fucking someone in the same room as the sleeping kid that just called me her mother not too long ago.
He shifted his body weight so that he wouldn't be crushing me, freeing the scent of our ardor into the air. "Adam..."
A low malevolent sound rumbled through the air, just barely teasing along the boundary of my hearing. However, hanging around with vampires and werewolves had sharpened my hearing enough that I could recognize a low-pitched growl when I heard one.
My breath catching in my throat, my eyes flickered to the window quick enough to catch a glimpse of the male before he disappeared. The faint recollection of his eyes burned into me, making the back of my neck tingle with fear.
"Red…"
Ending A/N: *Crickets* So yeah…this is what I suddenly came up with out of nowhere while staring at my computer, willing Chapter 10 of Blackout to type. I literally have no inspiration for that story and I apologize. I had to separate story lines and can't figure out how to make them mesh together. Anyhow, please give me feedback on whether this is worth trying or not. I love reviews so please let me read them :)
Btw, anyone catch me making fun of Yolo? lmao. Please stop overusing that phrase, teenagers of the world. Sincerely, another teenager. *Glare*
~Eryn "Ninja" Silvenia