Hi, People, I started this new story because I just finished reading The Rise of Nine and my friend finished reading it about the same time, and I just started typing this out, and then my friend helped me edit it and I just thought I'd post it here. So yah. Hope you enjoy and please review!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. That goes for all chapters, cuz I'm lazy.
Six (POV)
I blink and catch myself.
I am gazing at Nine.
Sure, he was sitting at the end of the big round table in the broken-up shack that Eight calls a house, telling corny jokes, laughing weirdly. Thinking that, I almost managed to convince myself...
But no, I couldn't say that I wasn't. Because I was gazing gazing at Nine, which is not how one gazes at someone when they are telling a joke. I am gazing at him they way you do when you are in lo...
I shake my head to clear it. But it doesn't go away.
I realize that I am gazing at Nine in the way one gazes at someone when they feel like their heart is going to melt into a puddle, when they just can't help but...
No. My heart isn't the gooey, melty kind. It isn't the type that will melt into a drippy, gooey mess. No, my heart is brittle. My heart is iced. No one can pierce through my heart.
Except maybe Ni...
Arg, arg, arg. Stop thinking about Nine!
Only I can't. He is annoying and arrogant, but that just makes me like him even more. It makes me want to put my arms around him.
Arg, arg, arg.
Love is so confusing!
Nine (POV)
"Why was Six afraid of Seven?" I asked.
Normally Six would pipe up with "I am not afraid of anyone!" but she didn't. I don't think she is paying attention.
"'Cause I'm awesome, duh," Marina said.
"No, 'cause Seven ate Nine. You should, Marina." Four said.
"Oh, no way, you're gonna encourage her into cannibalism?" I exclaimed.
"Actually, Four, I'd rather not. I think Nine'd taste quite nasty,"
"I do not taste nasty! Besides, how would you know anyway? You haven't eaten me yet."
"Look, can you guys not talk about that one joke? I mean, that joke is so corny, it could feed a chicken for twenty years." Eight snapped.
"Oh, now who's the comedian?" I retorted.
"Me, of course. You, Nine, were never anything."
"Yeah, yeah. Sure, you'll all gang up on me, and I won't care," I say, throwing out this tough, cool-guy look that says "I'm so cool, I don't care. I'll just annoy the hell out of you or whatever." I am hard. I am tough. No one can break through my shell. I don't get scared, I'm not weak. You know it, because you've never seen the other side of me.
The side of me that feels like a little bird with a broken wing, the side of me that feels helpless, the side of me that feels lonely, the side of me that is emotional, that does have a heart.
The side of me you don't see. And which I shall never show.
Four (POV)
Sarah and I are taking a walk. We go through the woods behind our so-called "house" (God, what is it with Eight and his "Cheap" (More like broken and unused) houses?), and I wonder how she must feel right now. If she misses her friends and family. If she feels out of place amongst so many aliens. If she still wants to be with us.
"Come on," Sarah tugs on my arm. "Let's go inside. It's almost dinner time."
"Sure, sure. Whatever." I'm absent-minded. I wonder if I should tell her that she should go home, back to Paradise, to her friends, her family.
But I don't.
I need her too much.
Six (POV)
I am in my room, teeny tiny little closet-sized room(screw you, Eight). My bed, to be exact, my hard, brittle, cold bed(screw you, Eight). To be even more exact, I am lying down on my pillow, my spiky, itchy pillow (SCREW YOU, EIGHT). Even more exact, I am here in the middle of the night pretending to be asleep and staring out my window, my battered, rusty, old window (OH MY GOD, EIGHT, SCREW YOU!). You may wonder why I am lying here pretending to be asleep. It is because I cannot sleep. (Duh, you wouldn't be able to either if you were me) I am thinking. I am thinking about Lorien, and my Cệpan Katarina, the Mogadorians, and most of all, I am thinking about Nine. Wait, what?! What is my problem! What is it with... Nine? What is it with him that makes me so... absolutely insane? Why? I don't go absolutely insane over someone like Nine, or anyone for that matter. I'm Six, right? I am Six, who does not go all gooey-minded over people.
Or am I?
That sounds ridiculous, because, yes, I am Six. Who else would I be?
I am Six, that's for sure.
But am I the same Six?
Am I still the Six that everyone knows, tough, strong, ready to fight? Am I turning into, I don't know, Marina? Am I becoming more like her? Feminine, dainty? Like what Four said. Am I?
I don't know. I can't think. I know now that I like Nine, I can't escape this terrible truth. I don't want to, but I don't. I could convince myself, but no, because he is constantly in my mind.
My head hurts.
I want to be able to talk about this with someone, but who. Once again, I feel a terrible longing for Katarina. This thought keeps me away from Nine, and I am pleased.
Great, that just reminded me again.
But why didn't I want to think about him? Am I embarrassed? Nine has a reputation for annoying the hell out of people. But I still...
Whatever.
Whatever, I can't think anyway. I'm just going to go to sleep.
Everything will be okay in the morning.
Good night.
Four (POV)
Sweat drips down my forehead. I am panting. BK is far ahead of me. I wipe my forehead and put on an extra burst of speed, pulling ahead of him just before the front door of our house/shack (I hate you, Eight).
I finish, panting, as we go through the creaky yard gate. Then I immediately stop in the yard and collapse.
And that's how the Chimaera beats the Garde, BK says. I want to roll over and glare at him but I'm too exhausted. I stay where I am.
The door opens slowly. Out comes a figure, silhouetted against the light coming from the hallway. I shield my eyes; and I see Six.
She doesn't see me as she walks past. BK has already gone inside.
She opens the gate and steps out. She pauses, then keeps on going. A few feet away, she suddenly vanishes, invisible.
I get up and go in.