A/N: Longer chapter than usual. Tons of Sydrian UST. So I was actually looking forward to post this one. To the reviewer who asked about Eddie and Trey, I love them too, and I really wish I could include them in the story somehow but since this is pure AU and Sydney and Adrian don't know them here it was a little hard to find a way to weave them in. I hope this doesn't discourage you from reading the story ahead, though.
However, for those of you who DO enjoy my story & really like other characters like Angeline, Trey, Eddie, I'm currently writing another Sydrian fanfiction that I'm planning to post sometime soon and they're all there in it. :D
Credits: This is written purely for fun, rights to all things Bloodlines related go to Richelle Mead. I have no affiliation with the author whatsoever.
Anyway, enjoy!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hate is Safer Than Love
I couldn't sleep that night.
There was too much on my mind, and like I had foretold, I kept seeing the black figure lunging at me when I closed my eyes. I could still feel it. The weight of the gun in my hands.
I remembered exactly how cold it had been under my fingertips. It terrified me. Everytime I looked down at my hands, I half expected them to be bruised and bloody.
It was all in my head.
I'd read up plenty about hallucinations, anxiety and forms of PTSD. I suspected that was exactly what was happening to me. I was supposed to be stronger than this, at least after living under the care of Jared the Relentless I should be able to take something like this. I could practically imagine what my father would say to me, " Get. Over .It." Three simple words that were much easier said than done.
He didn't understand, though. Traumatic events often lead to the mind conjuring up all kinds of insane things. I pulled the warm covers I had wrapped around me a little closer to my chin. Adrian's shirt was surprisingly comfortable to sleep in, and it was bathed in his scent and smelt exactly like him. When I finally decided that trying to sleep was going to be impossible, I decided to check the time on the wall clock. 5.30 am. Morning at last.
After neatly folding the blankets and doing the bed so it wasn't as messy as the rest of his house, I jumped out of bed and headed to the living room. I decided I could sit down and prepare a statistical analysis of all the alibis, motives and clues we'd gathered. Working on something important always gave me a strange peace of mind. I also desperately wanted to play those tapes Adrian had collected.
I felt a little self-conscious walking out in absolutely nothing but Adrian's shirt, it fell just a little above my knees. I wasn't ashamed of wearing skirts of course, but his shirt made me feel…exposed, naked, even. I comforted myself with the assumption that Adrian would still be sleeping at this time. He didn't appear to be an early riser.
When I stepped out I skidded to a stop so fast I half expected to yield sparks.
Adrian was awake, and he was strumming his guitar on the couch. He hadn't noticed me yet because his eyes were closed. I needed a coffee fix and the coffee maker was in the kitchen, which meant I'd have to get past him, and I certainly didn't want him to see me like this. Still, I'd have to conjure up the bravado and make the stride.
I was ready to do just about anything for coffee, even though I looked like a zombie in the mornings and was still haunted by the fact that I was clad in absolutely nothing but Adrian's shirt. I took a deep breath and finally made my move.
I took a few cautious steps towards the kitchen and stopped again to study him. I shouldn't have stopped of course, but my mind was planning on betraying me.
He looked lost in deep thought, absorbed in his tune that he played was notably pleasant to my ears, soothing too. It was at variance from the usual 'music' that blasted through his apartment. I admired the way his fingers strung the guitar strings, with so much gentle ease, it probably came to him automatically.
What else are his fingers good for?
Stop it, Sydney! Bad! Bad thoughts!
I was thankful for the sane part of my brain.
Morning sunlight shone through the window in front of him and cast a light on half of his face,
the illuminated side of it caused him to look almost…majestic.
He was beautiful.
His hair looked almost golden in the sunlight, falling across a light-skinned face, and pale eyelids flashed through the haphazard strands. His jaw was firm and strong, and his nose long but slightly crooked, like it had been broken and left to its imperfections.
His eyes suddenly opened and I almost tripped on the counter, I hadn't wanted him to see me scrutinizing him.
There was an odd lightness about his emerald eyes, though, and a small curve to his lips, as if there were something terribly funny only he knew the answer to, and it was that brief, wicked glance I caught that said maybe he hadn't broken it, but he knew what it looked like. And he liked that. The hint of danger. Made him seem more like something he wasn't.
How on earth had he known I was admiring his nose?
(…And the rest of him)
"Morning," He muttered, I swiftly turned away and began to work the coffee maker with trembling fingers."How did you sleep?" He asked.
"I didn't sleep at all, actually." I kept the unease out of my tone the best that I could.
He seemed amused by this,"Nor did I. Such a pity,"
"What's a pity?"
"Nevermind."
I made the coffee and handed him a cup, too. I'd had to wash those cups three times before using them, earlier they'd looked like seventeen different types of bacteria had grown on them. I sat down on the couch opposite to his and eyed his notepad and pencil that lay on the table in front of him.
"Nice guitar. What kind is it?" I asked, attempting small talk before getting down to business.
Adrian looked insulted,
"What kind? What kind, Sage? This is, like, the Holy Grail of guitars."
After that he launched into a fairly uninteresting speech about guitars. I was a person who was open to learning new things, but I would've preferred something like Latin verbs or historian architecture or the periodic table, not information about the world's best guitar.
I picked up his notepad and pencil while he was still educating me about guitars. I decided I could begin drawing my analysis now. It was about time I got some work done. Plus, it would keep dirty, lusty, stupid thoughts away. He abruptly stopped speaking.
"I'm going to perform a Statistical Analysis, don't mind if I use this." I said promptly.
It was when I finally gave the notepad a second look that I realized why Adrian had stiffened up. His notepad was abounded with sketches. They were intricate and complicated, some of them even I couldn't figure out. It was rare that something boggled my mind, so when it did, I was impressed. I could count the amount of people who could astonish me on my right hand. But these sketches were…breathtaking.
There was a sketch of a man being consumed by the shadows, it was shaded in just the right places and done almost brilliantly. And a sketch of a majestic and dangerous looking dragon—and even one of bold, piercing eyes that looked like they belonged to a girl.
A pang erupted in my chest.
Who's eyes was he drawing?
Is there a girl in his life?
I pushed those thoughts away, of course there were plenty of girls in his life.
"Once again you have unleashed your peskiness, Sage. Those are off-limits."
Behind the snark, I could tell that Adrian was uncomfortable about me going through his work. It was his defense mechanism. I knew how it felt to want to keep some things private, I hadn't meant to invade his privacy. But I couldn't help but be enraptured by his incredibly detailed, artsy, and enigmatic drawings.
If Julia were here she would've been worshiping Adrian by now.
She'd once told me that your average male strumming a guitar was like a mating call to girls.
She'd explained she had read that in one of her dating books, I made a mental note that I had to call up Julia later and ask her the name of the book so I could buy it online and read it.
And he paints too! He's the complete package.
He's good looking, funny, passionate and looks like a Ken doll.
God, he's like the apple from the forbidden tree.
I shuddered at my own thoughts; outraged by the audacity of part of my brain to accuse me of being attracted to Adrian Ivashkov. Sometimes, I seriously thought I had a Valley Girl stuck in some part of my head. It was like a punishment from the Powers that Be.
I mean sure, he's all of those things, but that doesn't change the fact that he's off limits.
And even if he wasn't, he isn't my type of a guy. Brayden, now that's a man more my speed, he challenges me and understands me. I had always wanted a relationship with someone who could understand my intellectual jokes and appreciate them instead of mocking them.
I didn't belong with inferior minds.
Yeah, and your relationship with Brayden is going swell, isn't it?
He hasn't even called you.
And I've read enough novels to know that talking genetic algorithms and the Morse code isn't exactly Grande Romanza.
Okay, so my relationship with Brayden isn't romantic, but it's smart.
What's wrong with smart?
Adrian is insufferable, unpredictable and subversive.
He isn't the guy for you. Get that through your thick head, Sydney.
You are here for business and only business.
Finally, I forced myself out of my thoughts and realized Adrian was still expecting an answer. "I'm sorry. You haven't ever shown these to anyone before, have you? They're amazing, I didn't know you liked to draw."
The surprises just kept on coming with Adrian Ivashkov. I loved the fact that he was passionate and creative. It was causing my brain to explode.
Adrian, bad. Brayden, good.
"Yeah, I draw and paint a little. It's no big deal, I don't take it too seriously,
it's just something I do." I thought of those beautiful eyes he'd drawn and reconsidered,
"Well, you should think of taking it seriously. You are really good. I'd go as far as saying you are endowed."
He was looking at me again, in that unsettling dazed way. If Julia were here now, she would have said he looked smitten. I dismissed the fuzzy feeling that was forming in the pit of my stomach.
I had had enough of those damned (oops!) butterflies to last a lifetime.
"I'll take your word for it." He said, finally, blinking out of his entrancement.
I sighed in relief, feeling more self-conscious than ever. I was still wearing his shirt, and didn't like the way he was looking at me.
So I did the only thing that I knew would get my mind off of him and keep me distracted.
"Adrian, I'm going to perform a statistical analysis. I'll basically break down all the key components of our case, the alibis, the motives and the suspects—the list of people that could be involved with the murder so that we can formulate a solid plan and know exactly how to go forward."
He stood up and stretched a little, still wincing from the pain of last night's bruise.
"So how are we going to play this?"
"We aren't going to play anything. I'll do my job, all you have to do is try not to disturb me."
Adrian looked miffed, he shrugged,
"Analyze, tiny blonde one. Analyze like the wind!"
I scoffed, "Don't call me that."
When I was almost done with my work, I decided it was time we took a look at those tapes. Once we did that, I would be able to successfully conclude the data.
Adrian had been in his own world again, while I'd been busy with compiling the data, he'd been playing his guitar, sketching some more, and listening to loud music on his iPod which I could hear from two couches away.
"We good to go?" Adrian asked.
I shook my head, "There's one last thing to do."
"I know what I did was wrong."
PAUSE.
"I DO love her! I still do! It was all just a stupid mistake.
I've talked to her about it, I swear."
PAUSE.
"Why does it matter so much to you anyway?"
PAUSE.
"She will never love you! She never did. It was always me!"
PAUSE.
PAUSE.
"I'm sorry. But it's time you grow up and move on."
PAUSE.
"It's been years for god's sake!"
PAUSE.
*sounds of wrestling*
"Dude, stop!"
PAUSE.
"Was that a threat?"
PAUSE.
PAUSE.
"You're out of your mind. You need to sit down and take a breath."
PAUSE.
"I KNOW what I did."
PAUSE.
"You are not serious."
PAUSE.
PAUSE.
*sounds of footsteps*
"Put that down! Put it down or I'll call…I'll call the police!"
PAUSE.
PAUSE.
*more sounds of struggle*
"What has gotten into you, man?"
PAUSE.
"Stop!"
PAUSE.
PAUSE.
"SHUT UP."
PAUSE.
*sound of glass shattering to the floor*
PAUSE.
"I'm sorry, man. You…You left me no choice.
PAUSE.
PAUSE.
"You are a worthless little piece of shit."
xxxxx
For a few unnerving moments after the tape was over, Adrian and I just sat there in shock.
He didn't even bother with any snide commentary, and when that happened,
there was definitely something wrong.
The tape had turned out to be a detrimental clue. The voice that was being played over belonged to Lee, and he'd obviously been talking to someone, but the killer had carefully cropped out the second person's voice. It was frustrating. The two people on the tape had clearly gotten into a fight over a girl. A fight that sounded physical.
Lucky for us, I had an idea or two about who it was. The factor about this that excited me so much was that this could help build Adrian's case. He actually had a shot! Up until now, we'd been putting a lot on blind hope. But now—now we had something solid, something tangible that I could deal with.
Then you could get over with this case and all would be right in the world again.
I turned over to look at Adrian and my delight dwindled. A frown drooped on his face and his eyes that usually looked like deep endless fields of green now just looked dim and unfocused.
I knew that I was going to regret this later, but I shut the laptop off and gingerly rested my palm on his shoulder. He still wouldn't look up. I mustered a tone as gentle as humanly possible, "Adrian,"
I could tell he was trying to collect his thoughts, he still didn't look at me, his head was bent down. "Adrian, we've got proof. And I think this might've just lead us to the real killer! This is a good thing."
I wanted to sound more comforting, more compassionate, but I just didn't understand why he was so put off. Maybe it was just because I was so bad with people, because perhaps Adrian did have a legit reason to be upset that I couldn't quite latch onto.
It was one of my less admirable traits.
Adrian did reciprocate this time, and his gaze cleared. He still held onto the frown, but at least he was thinking straight. His head bent to the side so that he could get a proper look at me, his eyes fell on my hand that was still firmly planted on his shoulder. Instantly, I felt my cheeks burn and I practically jerked my hand off.
"Damn it, Sage. I'm sorry. It's just…Lee's dead, you know? He's gone. And I guess that wasn't really something I wanted to acknowledge—even
though I was practically forced into it, being accused with his murder and all. It's just…" He took a deep breath, like he was hesitating to say his next words.
No, not like he was hesitating. I think he was trying, but it was too difficult to get the words out. The most important stuff was sometimes the hardest to convey.
I knew that feeling, my social anxiety was one of those reasons. My father was another.
"It's just hearing his voice again. Kinda freaked me out, you know?"
Finally, I began to grip what he was talking about. Adrian had known Lee, they had been friends, now his friend was dead. It must have been really hard to be able to listen to a recording of his murdered friend without flinching. I was astonished by his strength.
How had he managed to sit through this with a straight face?
I almost contemplated putting my hand on his shoulder again, but finally decided against it.
I observed him for a few minutes, neither of us said anything, I didn't offer him any kind of judicious advice, I didn't mumble stuff like "I know it must be hard," or "I'm so sorry for your loss."
I didn't even bother. Because I knew those words had no meaning.
I would've gotten mad if someone walked over to me when I was in pain and told me about how sorry they were for me. They hadn't been through this, they didn't understand how it felt.
Their words were empty; weightless.
So I didn't bother.
I knew that would have just made him feel worse. I just sat there, closely by his side.
I didn't say anything or do anything, but I could tell that I'd conveyed what I really wanted to.
I was attempting to let my presence be felt, I was just going to be there for him.
It was true, I had known Adrian for only a short span of time. But somehow, between all of the crazy stuff we'd been through, I'd began to genuinely care for him.
And other things… A helpful voice in my head whispered.
Not now.
I studied him for a few moments. He spoke no words but his eyes conveyed dissertations.
It was weird how we understood each other so well, yet were oceans apart when it came to most things. I watched him closely, the expression on his face was eating me up. I could feel some kind of abnormal pain rising in my chest.
"They're blind," I suddenly blurted.
Adrian's hazy expression faltered slightly,
"What?"
"They're all blind. I mean, one look at your face right now and they'd know you'd never be capable of something like that. I can see the purity written all over your face. Loud and clear." He shook his head, like he didn't understand.
"It's in your every action, your every word. Lee's death is eating you up, and those cynics are too blind to see that. I've read up enough on human behaviour to pick up that you are devastated. And I'm sorry—I really am, that a bunch of people that I claim to look up to have put you down. They're wrong, you know. Dead wrong."
The vehemence in my voice left a little sour after-taste in my mouth that I perceived tasted like rusted metal. I didn't know why I said that, but it was like an instinct. I wasn't one to unprofessionally blab out my innermost thoughts—but this, this was different. It felt almost necessary.
"They are stupid. If there's anyone here who's been most affected by Lee's death,
it's you. I don't comprehend how this group of menial minds could decide your fate."
Adrian's expression was unreadable. At least he wasn't laughing, I took it as a good sign and went on.
"They're stupid…Because they don't see what I see."
Another unspoken enigmatic notion flashed through his eyes, and he turned thoughtful.
"What do you see?"
I shrugged, deciding to be bluntly honest, I wasn't sure how long I could keep this up.
"I see a normal, real person. Who is brilliant, passionate, amiable and strong." When I realized I'd used too many pleasing adjectives I briskly added,
"Of course, you are still completely heavy-handed and a total pain."
I bit my lip, wondering what on earth had just dawned over me. It was like some kind of lovesick robot had taken over my body and was speaking through my mouth. All my life, I had been taught not to doubt the higher authorities.
After all, I had no business questioning the word of respectable, wise, people, right?
These are the people you answer to. Do you understand, Sydney?
They are up there for a reason.
My father's disconcerting words were now fading from my brain somehow. It was since I'd met Adrian, like my whole world had been flipped upside down. Right and wrong and everything in between was beginning to blend into one. And suddenly, nothing made sense anymore. Well, nothing other than those exceptionally irritating voices in my head and butterflies that liked to prance around my stomach.
After that, I dared to look straight into Adrian's eyes. He wore a look of absolute astonishment. But the look began to modify, multiple feelings crossed his face.
Confusion, hesitation, admiration, and finally, appreciation.
With all my rambling and racing thoughts, I hadn't bothered contemplating how close my face had gotten to his. We were literally only centimeters apart.
I could feel his warm breath on my face, it smelt like clove and mints. I could clearly study his jawline from this distance, I could assess the iris that gave him the daunting green eye color and count the number of discernible veins on his neck.
It all happened like in the blink of an eye, so quick that I wasn't sure how to react.
He leaned in to me, and naturally, my stupid head leaned towards his in return.
His hands slipped around my neck and my eyes locked with his.
"Sydney Sage, did you know that you are single-handedly the most amazing person I've met in my life?"
Chills ran up and down my spine, the butterflies in my stomach were having an extravagant gala. My head on the other hand, felt like it was going to explode from all this sudden exposure. My heart was pounding so fast in my chest that I was afraid I would die of a cardiac arrest. That was practically impossible at my age, and yet, I was terrified. Just as his warm hands made contact with my neck and his lips briefly lingered over mine,
I pushed him away and lurched back from him.
I jumped to my feet and immediately inched back a few more steps.
"What do you think you're doing!?"
Adrian's façade faltered and he stood up abruptly,
his facial expression unfocused. "I wasn't doing anything…"
I huffed, still afraid he'd take a few steps towards me, luckily, he kept his distance.
"Don't ever do that again!"
Adrian finally seemed to regain his look on his face was a dejected one.
"Why? Look, I wasn't trying to hurt you I swear. It's just… I like you, Sydney. It's crazy because when I'm around you I feel different. In a good way. The pain's always lessened when I've been around you." He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples, looking agitated all of a sudden.
"I bloody hate it! Feeling this way, it's tormenting and unfair. I don't know what it is about you. But I can't get you out of my head."
Every word was like a knife digging deeper and deeper into my chest, wrenching my heart out and crushing it. I did like Adrian, or at least I thought I did.
But pretending like I disapproved and hated what just happened would make things easier. As long as Adrian thought I hated the idea of us as an item, I was safe. Still, I knew how he felt, because the same thing was happening to me.
Of course, I didn't admit that to him.
"So why can't you just let go and learn to trust me, Sage?" His voice was anxious, almost anguished.
"Client. Lawyer. Lawyer. Client. Do I need to draw a diagram?"
Adrian smirked at that.
"Depends on what they're doing in the picture."
"Adrian! God, get your mind out of the gutter! We can't be together."
"Just tell me why. A valid answer."
"Because this. Whatever this is between us, it can't go any further.
I won't let it! We're not even in the same species."
Adrian frowned, "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
"I—I don't know! Look, I have a boyfriend for crying out loud! And I really, really like him.
Also, there…There can't be anything between us. I'm your lawyer, Adrian.
Do you know what that even means for us? For your case?"
Adrian looked like he was going to launch into a long, vehement speech after my comment, but the sound of my phone ringing stopped him, at least for the moment.
Adrian gave me a cold smile, "Saved by the bell." I didn't bother reciprocating and just picked up my phone. "Hello?"
"Is this Sydney Sage? This is Clarence Donohue."
I stiffened. Why was Lee's father calling me?
Did Keith have a hand in this?
"Uh, yes. Sir." My voice was barely audible.
"I was wondering if you could come over to my office and we could have a word.
I have some of Lee's old things that might help with your case. Including some evidence that the police supplied from the, ah, from the scene of the crime."
I didn't bother hiding the surprise in my voice. "Really, Sir? That…That would be great. But…Why?"
There was a stale laugh on the other end of the line.
"My son was murdered, Miss Sage. But I know that the Ivashkov boy wasn't the one behind it. I want to find the real person who killed my boy. And I want to destroy them."
His voice was so cold I could practically feel the despair and wretch radiating off of him from the mobile phone.
"In the mean time, I don't believe an innocent boy should be paying for something he did not do. I was even ready to give my statement to the police, but who would believe a silly old man…I thought speaking to his defense lawyer might help aid the case somehow."
I was almost at a loss for words again. I felt stupid realizing that this was happening a lot lately.
"Th—Thank you, Clarence, sir. That's really…wonderful of you…"
"Come by at around eight PM tomorrow. My secretary will provide you with an address."
The line went dead.
A.N: Keep the reviews coming! They really motivate me to write and it'll only aid in sooner updates. I'm not one to blackmail but... ;)
xxx
