Chapter 49
Xxxxx
Hi! Long time no see. I am terribly sorry about that, but personal stuff is kind of getting me down. I will try not to let it get in my way again.
Thanks to jayden19 Mindymb83 and stephcullen2000 for the reviews. I can't express how grateful I am. I am sorry that this story is not running along very smoothly, but soon, I will edit it and hopefully make it more respectful. At the moment, I think I am just rushing to get to the exiting points which begin in the next chapter. Bear with me.
Enjoy
Xxxxx
Wanda POV
After roughly six hours of sleep, my eyes drowsily fluttered open, my lids sticking together, encrusted with sleep. It was like liquid glue holding them together, and I scrunched my hands into fists, carefully removing my arms from beneath Ian's to remove all the unwanted presences from my eyes.
Even though I had slept decently for the first time in months, free of nightmares with Ian's arms wrapped tightly around me, six hours was nowhere near enough, although I was done sleeping. Once I had awoken, even for the most brief of seconds, I could never find my way back to unconsciousness again.
It was almost impossible and not worth the fight. I was currently saving all the energy that I had managed to save and build up over time for an event which was yet to appear. The only loophole in that plan was that I was not exactly aware of what that event was. I only knew that I was gaining upon an extremely bad feeling which left my stomach unsettled and made my hands twitch, my eyes constantly raking the area in range of my body, searching for any dangers or obstacles that were capable of posing a threat against me. It was not a pleasant feeling.
Craning my neck round, my ears tuned to the steady beat of my heart which was the only audible noise in the room aside from Ian's intakes of breath, I shuffled in Ian's embrace, bringing my face momentarily closer to his. Unlike my own, his eyes were tightly shut and for once, he was smiling in his sleep.
No longer did he sprawl out on the mattress like he had done every single night before today. Instead, his arms had been wrapped tightly around my small figure, holding me against his chest and somehow it managed to bring his mind at ease. Whatever his method of keeping himself happy, I would always be first in line, always willing to participate no matter what thought had come to his mind.
As long as it wasn't in any way reckless, I would always be there for him. I loved him that much and it surprised me about how highly I was able to think of this man. Being with Ian had proved one thing to myself and just happened to be a fact that was highly likely to stay with me for the rest of eternity; Humans were not the enemy.
Though in fact, neither were the souls in general. I was not a traitor although the souls which had it in them to harm the humans were in fact traitors of the worst kind. They had not just betrayed this world- they had let down the whole universe.
Smiling to myself, I planted a light kiss on Ian's cheek and wormed my way down the bed and out of his embrace, being cautious not to wake him. The reasons for my departure were simple; my body was going through urges that demanded me to make my way along the corridors towards the washroom, and they were persistent and were impossible to ignore.
Once I was on my feet, I stood in the centre of the room, my lips pursed. In a way, leaving Ian's side without any explanation seemed like yet another betrayal and I hated to even think about what emotions might dare to cross him in my absence.
Earlier on, he had taken my words in the wrong way, and the disappointment and pain that had flashed across his face was still fresh in my mind like a reminder had been scorched into my memory of what it felt like to let down someone so close to my heart. I always found myself wondering that if I held onto too many people there, what would happen when fate finally came to an end, and their love for me in return turned into hate?
The only likely conclusion to the thought seemed to be that my heart would simply be ripped in two, preventing it from beating and my blood from flowing through my body. I would turn gradually pale, and I would slowly dry out, life draining from my eyes and I would gasp, finally drawing in the final breath into my lungs; the breath that would end me altogether.
My fate was gruesome, yet understanding. After all, death always catches up to everyone in the end. Death was my own personal demon.
Shuddering at the darkness of my own mind, Melanie smug in my head, grateful for the sting left over from Ian's absence, I reached for a pen off the top shelf where it sat among all of Ian's other belongings. As I did so, I also imagined that the sting on my arms was something entirely different in her perspective.
Being linked to her this way, I knew that It felt bliss to her, although the pain was so unbearable to my own self that it was hard to imagine. It always was for a matter of fact. It seemed impossible for anyone to hate Ian, especially as much as Melanie loathed him.
He was kind, strong and loyal and he held onto me in such a way that made me dream that he was never going to let go. He was my other half. Without him, I was nothing. It had just taken me nine lives to finally notice that. In my ninth, I had come to see what a lifeless ghost of a soul I had been in the past. If only Ian had been there with me. If so, life would have been so much more bearable.
Once I had managed to grab the pen off the dusty shelf, coughing as the dust flew up in all directions, spewing the air with grey while it filled my lungs, I flipped open the notebook that sat on his desk, averting my eyes from his writing, not wanting to invade his privacy. He had previously mentioned that he kept all his secrets in here and stored down on paper what his mind had been 'shouting out at him'.
Reading this would be my third betrayal today, and thankfully, the thought left me with no temptation to pour over the pages, taking in every word. Instead, I flipped to the next blank page, pulling the cap of the pen off with my teeth when it failed to come off in my hands. Testing the ink on my hand, I then began to write.
Ian,
Sorry to use up one of your pages, but I just want to let you know that I'm okay and safe. I didn't want to wake you, so I have taken the lamp and gone to clean up. You don't have to follow me- I will be back soon.
Love Wanda.
P.S. I promise, I didn't read anything in your notebook.
Little did I know that this was the last time that I was able to see my Ian.
Xxxxx
Ian POV
I awoke to prickles of cold layering my skin, my arms empty. The blankets laid over us were now tangled, and my only thoughts were that if I was cold, Wanda must be freezing. Whenever I felt something, she always suffered from the same impact only doubled. It always worked that way, and I always looked out for her, and right now, seeing that she was no longer in my arms, I was naturally worried.
Shooting bolt upright, knocking fair share of blankets and pillows from the mattress, my eyes shot around the room alarmed, my arms still empty. The last thing I remembered from the previous night was Wanderer falling asleep in my arms, her face calm and peaceful. For once, she had been free of pain.
Now, it was clear to me that she had left the room as for she was nowhere in sight. I just couldn't bring myself to understand what had made her want to leave my side in the first place. I had to admit, the rejection stung. After all we had been through… it just didn't make any sense. In my mind, everything had been perfect. However, she obviously had not felt the same way.
Before I could jump to anymore conclusions, I froze as my eyes cast over my desk, where my private notebook sat, its pages open out for anybody to read. Before I could even blink, I was up and off the bed, my hands planted on either side of the desk as I investigated.
The notebook was wide open, and although it looked as though someone had read its contents, it didn't look as though it had been disturbed. All of the pages were still intact, and thankfully, only one person came to mind who could have possibly read it. Wanda. I rubbed my temples in deep thought.
After all of the time spent hidden here in the caves, I had endured so many overwhelming thoughts which threatened to defeat me. Instead, Kyle had suggested that if I didn't feel like I had anybody to talk to then I might as well 'talk to myself' or write down what I had been through for somebody else to read.
In my case, that 'somebody else' was Wanderer. There was no doubt about it. So why was I so bothered by the fact that she may have already read it? All the thoughts that had been shouting out at me had been put down on paper, so what was the harm in the person I put my faith and trust in most simply looking through?
Taking deep breaths, I mind automatically began to gradually calm itself, sinking into a memory that now felt so out of reach. It was short, but precious, and while it replayed, I scribbled it down on paper, flicking to the middle of the book randomly like I had done many times before, not bothering to find where I was currently up to. I simply let my mind repeat itself on paper.
Flicking on the lamp beside my bed, I whip out my notebook from beneath the mattress, tugging out the pen which is tucked inside its many pages. The room is dark, but the light from the lamp will be enough to get a clear view of the words which I will write down on paper. It is also just bright enough to marvel at the look on Wanda's sleeping face.
Sighing, I kiss her forehead, chuckling to myself as she closes her arms tighter around me, a pleading look on her face begging for more, even in sleep. She buries her face in my chest and lets out a satisfied sigh as I grant her one last light kiss, this time on her lips before leaving her be. She needs the sleep and I don't want to disturb her. I wonder if she is dreaming about me…
I run my fingertips down the spine of my notebook, opening it while breathing in the musty scent of old paper. Even if it is old, it will forever remain a piece of me- One that I will never let go.
With one arm still wrapped around Wanda's waist, I somehow manage to remove the pen lid, dapping the nib on the corner of the paper until the ink finally decided to run down the pen and on paper, which is exactly where I want it to be. Silently, I scribble down the words which have been both enlightening me and haunting me for the past few days. It is only when she speaks out softly that I realise that I am not the only one awake. She is watching me.
'What are you writing?' She asks, her eyes full of wonder reading my scribbled handwriting, although I doubt that she can make out any of the words. I never had good handwriting and I still have failed to improve much after all these years.
'Nothing much...' I reply, jumping slightly, and I can tell that she is smug that she has been able to sneak up on me. She always liked that game.
I slowly slip the cover of the book shut, shielding it from her view and almost instantly she removes her chin from my shoulder where it had been resting, her arms unwinding form around my chest. Even without looking, I can tell that I have upset her.
'Wanda, hey', I say, pulling her to face me when she tries to flee. 'Wanda, please look at me.'
Pulling her regretful eyes away from the floor, she does so, her face sad. I stare at her wordlessly. Now that my feelings have been expressed on paper, I find it hard to speak since that I have nothing left to say.
'I get it', she whispers. 'Private. You don't want me to see.'
I shake my head. 'Not true.'
She looks at me, both confused and hopefully. 'Then what?'
I smile, wrapping my arms around her when she starts to shiver. When my warm touch fails to soothe her, I remove my jacket, slipping it from my arms onto hers. Thankfully, she accepts it from me instead of protesting like she usually does. This makes me smile even wider. Once she is warm, I start to explain, pulling her onto my lap.
'I thought you were sleeping. You just surprised me. That's all.'
When I am finished, she looks up at me, and I can tell that my explanation is nowhere near enough and has failed to meet the standards that she has been expecting. I sigh and give in. I hold up the notebook, flicking it back open to the page that I had been writing on. She tries to avert her eyes and fails.
'My brother gave me this to write my thoughts down', I start. 'All the thoughts that have been shouting out at me all day long, I put down on paper.'
I tap her forehead with the pen, making her smile along with me. 'It also helps me to keep my memories with me forever. Unlike you, humans have a limited sense of memory storage.'
She blushes. 'How do you know that?' She asks.
I stroke her red cheeks, brushing her hair out of her face so that none of her perfect features are covered. She wears this body so well. 'You always tell me your stories', I say. 'You remember all of your past lives, so I figured that you must have a pretty good sense of memory to remember of eight previous lives.'
Her eyes widen. 'You remember? I didn't think you actually listened.'
This time, I frown. I place my hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look at me while I see if she actually means what she has just said. After only a few seconds of looking, I realise that she has already made it clear that she does in fact feel that way.
'Of course I listen', I say sadly. 'What makes you think that I don't?'
'I go on about nothing most of the time. It's hard to think that any of it is worth knowing, let alone interesting.'
She is attempting to maintain a complete poker face, but underneath the fake face that she tries to hold in place, I can see all the hurt, shock, surprise and wonder that sits beneath it. It is now almost too easy to see right through her, although it hasn't ever really caused much of a challenge for she really is a terrible liar.
'Everybody loves your stories, Wanda', I say soothingly, pulling her onto my lap. 'There is no doubt about that.' I signal towards the notebook. 'But all of mine lie in here. All of my past and all of the feelings that came with the events. It's not all pleasant and nowhere near as interesting as your stories.' I place the notebook on her lap. 'If you really want to, you can read all of it. I have nothing to hide from you.'
Tears are now forming at the corners of her eyes. She is touched and I am pleased that I can be the one to make her happy. However, instead of reading through the notebook, she presses it back into my hands, lacing hers around mine. Her touch ignites every cell of my body, filling me with pleasure.
'When you are ready, you can read it to me', she insists, before straining against my hold to switch off the lamp, turning the room black.
Together we lie in the darkness until we fall asleep; our chests pressed against each other's, our hearts beating as one.
Squeezing my eyes tightly shut at the reminder of the memory, fresh from only just days ago, I ran my fingers down the side notebook's pages, turning them one by one, scanning through the content which sat obediently on the black lines, bound by ink to its surface.
I flicked through my previous entries until I paused, lingering on the seemingly most recent page aside from the one that I had just written moments ago. This page was filled with scribbled handwriting, just like the rest, although the style was not my own.
I brow furrowed in confusion and also humour as I was only just beginning to realise how stupid I had been for not looking at the page that it had previously been turned to in the first place. It was now so obvious and I instantly also began to feel slightly guilty. Now, I could easily resemble the page as something Wanda had written, her handwriting small and neat, unlike my scrawled mess which filled the rest of the pages.
My best guess at this moment was that she must have awoken in the night, and as stubborn as she was, no matter how many times that I had assured her that it was perfectly okay for her to wake me if she needed anything or simply wanted company, she must have gone to accomplish whatever task she had felt the need to accomplish, leaving me behind.
She had always been so delicate, but her feelings for others were even more fragile. She was never able to disturb others, no matter what. However, what she didn't know was that I could no longer stay unconscious without her at my side.
Before she had come here, I had used to sleep restlessly, sprawling out all over the mattress, my insides tearing apart day after day, seeing as I had never had anything to hold onto. Anyhow, when she had come to the caves, over time when I had learned to fully accept her for who she was and love her for herself and not her body, I had refrained from being disturbed at night, finding comfort with her in my arms, having finally being granted with something to hold onto.
Wanda made me whole, and I would do anything for her, no matter what. No matter how unpleasant the task, I would always be by her side, ready to guide her along and help her do what she felt the need to. It had recently always been that way, and from this day on, it was never going to change. I was sure of it.
Shaking my head, I scanned through the message that she had left for me.
Ian,
Sorry to use up one of your pages, but I just want to let you know that I'm okay and safe. I didn't want to wake you, so I have taken the lamp and gone to clean up. You don't have to follow me- I will be back soon.
Love Wanda.
P.S. I promise, I didn't read anything in your notebook.
After reading through her message, I began to feel relieved for the fact that she was safe and that I no longer had to be concerned at her whereabouts. Secondly, I was also secretly pleased that she had respected my privacy and had not read my notebook. Her last comment had made me smile.
For that fact, the only reason that I had not already shown her my notebook in the first place was that I didn't want to break her. I knew that what I had experienced had not always been pleasant, and a good half of its past stories were filled with darkness which would have upset her, had she come to read it.
When the time was right, and when she had grown stronger, both physically and mentally, I would read it to her. This was a promise that I was making to myself. I would not let her down.
