Hey guys! I apologize for not posting last week- school and life just got the best of me. Thank you all for your patience and understanding :)


Chapter 32: A Flimsy Falsehood.

Nadir POV:

Nadir remained a few steps behind the Sultana. It was a strategy he had learned long ago to avoid the sting of her yellow eyes. A mere glance from her could burn flesh and bone until she stared directly at one's soul. If she looked in his direction now, she would see how nervously his heart pounded against his rib cage.

The Sultana; the once young mother of the Shah. She glided down the halls, like a golden ghost in the night. The thin silks that clung to her body outlined her feminine figure, one that had retained well for her older age. As usual, she was draped in the finest gold. The only noise she made was the slight jangle of her jewelry. Nadir had to nearly hold his breath to hide his panicked panting. It was a natural response, he reminded himself. She must have been used to the sound of grown men's shuddering at her presence.

His heart warmed at the thought of the one person that was never terrified of the Sultana. His Rookheeya; that stunning pillar of fearlessness. At a party for the Shah's birthday many years ago, he and his wife had done their best to remain hidden in the background. He was a controversial member of the police force, often taking the path of justice rather than assimilating to the Shah's wishes. His wife was a linguistic expert that recklessly spoke out of turn at every available opportunity. A woman invested in culture and international politics was a rarity in the world, let alone Persia. Together, they had quite the reputation. Which was why both were shocked when the Shah's mother approached them with a coy smile, her viperous motivations completely unknown to Nadir at the time. But not to his Rookheeya. As they bowed to the Sultana, she kept her eyes locked and her head raised, a defying act that she brushed aside a womanly politics.

Nadir took a deep breath, voiding any thoughts of his late wife from his mind. Daydreaming would not bring her back, nor avenge her death. His eyes glanced over to the Sultana's shiny straight locks. That witch would pay for what she did to his wife. Nothing would stop him now.

He had spent years tirelessly planning the Shah's downfall: the sweet taste of success teasing him the closer he reached his goal. Rookheeya's death would not go unavenged.

Rage and anger had never flowed through his veins as much as the past couple of months. He had spent his entire life following the peaceful words of Allah, interweaving his teachings with principles of justice in his line of work. It was Rookheeya, if anyone, who controlled the house with an iron fist. When he had first found Erik outside of Italy, a pitiful and lost creature, it was Rookheeya who had bullied him into some self respect and given him the will to live like a man should. Anger was never something he seemed to feel, but now it constantly coursed through his veins.

Rookheeya was murdered, no reports could tell him otherwise. She vocalized her support of the Shah's son, who stood against his father and his ideals of war.

It was labelled as an accident, but Nadir would always remember the gleam in the Sultana's eyes when she offered her sincerest condolences. It shook him to the core, the realization that the Sultana had planned the massacre of hundreds and that his wife would be one of its innocent victims.

Nadir looked away, movement to his left finally pulling him from his thoughts. Darius hid behind a column, his head peeking out the side. Darius's open mouth and rattling torso showed he followed Nadir's strict orders to sprint back to Erik's room. As they were interrogating Fazia to keep her silent, it was the Sultana who entered, not the Shah. She herself had come to see the women who had caught the Angel of Death's eyes.

"We should pay him a visit, don't you agree? It is not everyday an abomination like him accepts a woman into his arms. I wonder if he will be...tender."

Her high tone was a sickly mixture of cunning and maliciousness. It could be identified in a crowd and caused even the strongest of men to falter. The last thing he wanted was to make conversation with her. Instead, Nadir shuffled slightly behind her, the presence of her two personal guards nowhere near as suffocating as the thick albeit deceiving perfume that radiated off her.

With the quick flick of her wrist, the Sultana snapped her fingers. One of the guards stepped forward, a large wooden torch in hand. He slowly twisted the handle, the slight clink of the lock inhibiting his near silent entry.

"Khan." The Sultana beckoned gently, like an enchanter to a snake. "Give me the key."

Nadir had to cough to regain his composure. "Your highness, I am sure the Angel of Death will answer-"

"I gave you a direct order." Her voice darkened. "I believe the key is in your pocket. Do not disobey your Queen."

You will never be my Queen. Nadir thought. He bit back his reluctance and pulled a key chain from his belt. His key was with Darius, as he had snuck it to him to warn Erik of the Sultana's arrival. Regardless, he pretended to search the chain, furrowing his brow in apparent confusion as he flipped through the chain a few times.

"Forgive me, your highness, but I am afraid-"

"Darius, my dear boy. Why hide in the shadows?"

Nadir gulped as Darius crept forward like a thief caught in the night. He had followed them, now hiding behind the side corner of the hall. It would have been near impossible for the Sultana to see him at that distance yet her head had snapped in his direction, as if she could see through walls. Nadir sighed. She must have known he was following them this entire time.

Darius stepped forward, dropping to a knee in a formal bow before the Queen. "Your majesty."

The Sultana smiled, her teeth just as pointed and sharp as her son. "My dear child, rid yourself of such formalities with me." Her long nails dug into Darius's skin as she gripped both his hands, guiding him to his feet. Nadir had trained Darius well, noticing the complete lack of fear in his eyes though he was certain Darius was mortified. Nadir only hoped that his disguise would last.

"Your master has misplaced his key." The Sultana chided, tutting her tongue. "Would you happen to have it?"

Darius was about to open his mouth to deny that he had the key at all, but the Sultana slapped her hand over his upper thigh. Darius jumped, stunned by her improper touch.

"Ah." She gasped. "Here is it." Slowly, her fingers slithered into Darius's trouser pocket. Nadir glared at him, silently encouraging him to remain composed, though Darius's face had paled. The Sultana lacked all sense of decorum and smiled victoriously as she slowly pulled the key from his pocket. She stroked Darius's cheek with the pad of her thumb.

"Good boy."

She turned from him, handing the key to one of her guards. Once he knew he was free from her dark eyes, Darius released a deflated exhale of relief. Nadir gestured to him to remain collected. The Sultana would sense his every movement.

As the door unlocked, Nadir took a deep breath. Darius seemed to have warned Erik in time, but was it enough to formulate a plan? A part of him wondered what would await them. He knew that his friend had no intention of taking that astonishing young woman tonight. However, the Sultana was not a fool that could be easily tricked. A voice in the back of his head argued that the only way to convince the Sultana was to actually commit the deed. But Nadir prayed he was wrong.

The familiar stale air of the room welcomed him. It had been a while since he had seen it in detail thanks to the bright torch light. It was in a serious need of cleaning, but Nadir's usual disgust with the state of the room was overshadowed by a sickening feeling of anticipation. What lay on the other side of the bedroom door? His friend was not as monstrous as he pretended to be. Better yet, he would never hurt the only creature he had ever loved.

There was a battle in Nadir's mind. Erik would go to any lengths to keep her alive, even destroying her honour if needed. Yet, he would do anything in his power to avoid that possibility, wouldn't he? His past actions had been in her best interest, but the Sultana was not easily fooled. He had to bite down his beseech for the Sultana to reconsider. Yet, he remained unmovable as she crept towards Erik's door, opening it briskly without knocking.

Nadir's eyes naturally closed for just a moment, as if a ghoul was to leap out from the other side of the door. It took a few moments before he forced his eyes open, taking in the shocking sight before him.

Erik had now stood, facing the group with a menacing scowl. His fingers fumbled at his belt, clumsily clasping it shut quickly before turning towards the Sultana. Nadir glared at Erik, feeling the rage seeping off his exposed and now bandaged chest. His furious expression was standard, almost relaxing Nadir at its sight. Quickly, he scanned the room to the bed, where a young woman lay trembling. Nadir's eyes widened at the sight of her ivory shoulders that peaked out from behind the dark covers.

This didn't make sense. If Erik had to...he would be devastated. But he seemed his usual, irate self. Christine, on the other hand, was just a shell of the woman he had seen a few moments ago. Nadir held in a gasp as he began to take in more details of her ghostly appearance. Her wide eyes, red and puffy, were highlighted by the tracks of tears that slithered down her cheeks. The red marks along her wrists, cylindrically shaped, seemed fresh and raw. The sight of her caused his stomach to flip.

"GET OUT." Erik roared. He swung his hand outward, a violent gesture that barely caused a hair on the Sultana's head to move though her guards jumped.

"My my. What a beauty." The Sultana chuckled. She stepped around the bed away from Erik. Her eyes were locked on the young singer as she sauntered towards Christine, whose eyes widened at her approach. Erik leapt forward, doing his best to round the corner of the bedframe to reach the Sultana before two guards blocked in his path.

"Stay away from her!" He hissed, reaching his hand out over the shoulder of a guard. The tips of his fingers barely brushed her shoulder.

The Sultana ignored him. "She doesn't seem too pleased with you. What have you done to upset such a pretty little thing?"

Nadir remained frozen in place, like a statue in the back corner. The Sultana spoke in Persian, an explanation for why a look of confusion plagued the young women's face. Yet, Nadir was more concerned with how she leaned away from Erik and the forming bruises on her wrists. More than anything, he wanted Erik to confirm that his suspicions were false.

"What do you want?" Erik snarled, pushing himself away from the guards. Nadir naturally stepped to his side, glancing his direction for some sort of cue. Erik's eyes remained focused on the Sultana. He didn't seem to notice Nadir's presence at all.

"I heard a rumour that the most feared man in Persia claimed a woman. I simply had to see for myself. This is quite a historical event, dear angel."

"You have seen her." Erik growled, motioning to the door. "Now leave."

The Sultana tutted her tongue. "Though I have seen her, I see no evidence that these rumours are true. You do know that it is against the law to take a concubine of the harem without taking what they have to offer?"

Erik's jaw set in place, his scowl apparent under his half mask. "I can confirm them. You can go now."

The Sultana merely shrugged, lifting her dress slightly to sit on the edge of the bed. Nadir's stomach nearly flipped as the Sultana smiled at Christine. It was deceivingly nurturing. Nadir prayed Christine would not fall victim to her façade.

"She is trembling like a mouse." The Sultana cooed, glancing down at Christine's hand which held the covers above her chest tightly. "How did she react upon seeing your face, I wonder?"

"Get. Out."

"Did she scream? Or was the sight so horrifying that she froze in your arms?"

"What do you want?" Erik hissed, his obvious annoyance growing every time she refused to yield to his demands.

The Sultana leaned in closer to Christine, cupping her cheek with her palm. "The truth, that is all. Do not act so defensive, dear angel. I am merely curious how a girl so fragile and so small could survive your brutish touch. You must have been so tender with her, lest she would break."

"That is no concern of yours." Erik growled.

Nadir glanced over to Darius, who remained in the back next to him. The young deputy remained still with his mouth slightly agape. It unsettled him greatly. All of the signs were there. The bruises, the tears, the state of undress on the both of them. Yet, Nadir refused to believe what he saw. It must have been a deception, a genius trick of the mind. Every sign that Erik and forced himself upon her must have been a lie... But why did the Sultana not see this as well? He scanned the environment more, but still could not see any sign of deception.

Christine looked back and forth between the two, doing her best to identify some word that seemed familiar. Yet she was completely blind in the conversation. But after a slight glance from Erik, she turned away, her lower lip trembling. It caused Nadir's heart to seize.

"Was he gentle with you, my dear?" The Sultana cooed. Her fingers gripped around Christine's hand, pushing both her trembling fingers and the covers down to reveal the top of her breasts. Christine flinched and cried out, scooting down into the bed to remain covered.

"Do-Don't touch me. Pl-please." She squeaked. The despair and terror in her voice caused Nadir to gasp out loud. The Sultana glanced back at him.

"Interesting. You removed her clothing quite quickly."

Erik's eyes narrowed. "Isn't that the point of their design?"

The Sultana shrugged, gliding her hand over the sheets, feeling every detail of Christine's trembling body.

"Nor do I feel any blood."

"Blood?"

Nadir closed his eyes. He had to commend the Sultana on her ingenuity. Erik had confessed he had never laid with a woman, nor was it a topic of conversation he would ever partake in. He would never know the immediate consequences of a woman's first time.

The Sultana chuckled softly. "Why yes. Young virgins bleed when bedded by a man. The symbol of a broken seal. Did your woman not bleed, dear angel? Or has her seal not been broken?"

Erik was silent for a moment. His eyes remained transfixed on the Sultana, his half revealed face giving no indication of panic. He briefly glanced away.

"She was betrothed to another. I am certain she had already given herself to him before then." Erik's tone was hollow, almost too convincing. Nadir glanced at Christine, who seemed confused by Erik's change in tone. A gleam of worry flashed in her eyes, like when a mother sees a sobbing child. It would be a lie if Nadir wasn't pleased to see it. If there was still kindness in her heart towards him, then he must have preserved her dignity.

The Sultana's smile dissipated. "You took another man's woman? Even for you that seems low."

"She doesn't belong to him." Erik snapped. "Not anymore. She is mine."

The Sultana stared evenly at him. "Hm. What a convenient situation."

Erik glared back at the woman. "I have answered your questions and played your game, now leave."

"Don't forget who you're speaking too, Angel." A lone finger pointed his direction, threatening him to come closer. Nadir gripped the handle of his sword. Her threats were more like encouragement. She wanted him to snap. Nadir tried to signal to Erik to regain his composure. If he snapped, he would most likely let something slip. "I am your queen." She continued, her lacy tone switched to something darker in an instant.

"And you are defying your King. By his orders, this room is not to be entered without my permission. It is my payment for years of service. Leave now, and I will show mercy."

The Sultana cackled. "Show mercy? Don't make me laugh. After what you have done to destroy this young creature, I doubt there is an ounce of mercy inside you. Did you show her mercy when you forced her into your bed? Did you stop when she asked? Or was the thought of taking another's woman to bed just too enticing?"

Instead of passing the guard, Erik forged a new path. He leapt over the corner of the bed, causing Christine to yelp as he expertly landed on their side of the bed. Before the guards could turn to seize him, he yanked the Sultana off the bed, pinning her against the wall with his fingers coiled around her neck. Nadir unsheathed his sword, but the guards already had their blades against Erik's neck. He remained unfazed, glaring into the eyes of the wicked Queen. They all remained frozen, each unsure of what to do next. Erik barely noticed the guards around him, his snarl apparent as he tightened his grip on the Sultana's neck. But Nadir's stomach flipped as he watched her. As she gasped for breath, Nadir could just see a sinister grin form on the Sultana's lips.

"Quite a leap for an intoxicated man." She gasped, her choked voice loud enough for the room to hear.

"Keep talking and you will see what else I am capable of in this state."

"How dare you threaten me!"

"Your title will not save you from the consequences of your actions. I have killed men who enter my domain."

It was as if her strategy changed, her eyes widening as a playful pout formed on her face. "Oh dear Angel." She choked, her hands quickly coming to his chest. Her fingers splayed as her hands seductively caressed down his torso. "Have you no compassion?"

Erik pushed her away, disgusted by her touch. The Sultana inhaled deeply, a rugged laugh escaping her lips once the oxygen returned to her lungs. It caused Nadir to shiver. What mad woman laughed after being choked?

The guards formed a barrier in between Erik and the Sultana. Nadir thought it was for the best, stopping her from doing any more damage. He watched with uncertainty as Erik stood boldly before Christine. His heart ached as she scooted away from him, trembling at the sight of him.

"It seems your tenderness is spent for the evening. What a shame." The Sultana sighed. She stepped towards the door, her guards glaring at Erik as they followed closely behind.

"If what you say is true, then she will not bleed for any other man that claims her."

Nadir watched as Erik's pupils dilated for just a moment, a flash of panic momentarily crossing his face before returning to his threatening scowl.

"As I said, she is mine."

The Sultana winked, grinning victoriously. "We shall see. Goodnight, my angel." She giggled, her tone shifting back to its original, sickly sweet sound.

No one moved as she left the room. Nadir couldn't force himself to bow to the wench, her demeanor too threatening and confusing for him to react. As the latch clicked behind them, Erik hesitantly stepped forward into the main area. He returned after a few seconds.

"She is gone."

The four of them released an audible sigh. Nadir looked over to Christine, who lay in the bed, breathing deeply as if she had held her breath the entire confrontation.

"Are you...well?" Nadir asked, his voice quivering in the still air.

To his relief, the young girl smiled at him. "I am. Did she believe our deceit?"

Nadir covered his heart with his hand. He muttered his praises to Allah. It was another act.

"I doubt it." Darius sighed. "Though I doubt she will voice her concerns. We seem to have silenced her for now."

Erik turned, walking into the main room. It was as if he needed to escape, hovering near the doorway but refusing to step any closer. "Nadir, Darius, come with me. We have much to discuss."

Nadir began to follow before a slight movement to his right caught his eye. Christine shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

"And...what about mademoiselle Daaé?" He asked, reading the girl's mind.

Erik hesitated. His back faced them as he responded flippantly. "We will keep this door locked. She will remain in here until morning, untouched and safe."

Nadir furrowed his brow. If he was not so familiar with Erik's mood swings, he would have thought he was angry at the young woman. However, he had been in Erik's presence enough to know something else plagued his mind. He silently agreed, locking the door behind him after wishing a stunned Christine a good night.

Christine POV:

Her heart still rattled within her rib cage when Nadir closed the door, leaving her alone in the strange room.

She collapsed back on the bed, closing her eyes to try and control her racing mind. The soft covers and firm pillow encapsulated her in a slight sense of comfort. She remained frozen here, focusing on her breathing. What had the Sultana said? Christine couldn't define the emotions she heard in her tone. It switched, at first seemingly calm and nurturing before morphing into something more volatile. Yet, even when she cupped Christine's cheek, Christine could sense something heinous in the atmosphere. She remembered how tense Erik seemed, almost like he was ready to attack. The fire in his eyes and the way his fingers curled into fists at his sides showed how terrified he was. He seemed ready to slaughter those guards that stood in his way, but she couldn't understand why. The Sultana sat by her side, almost motherly. But then she tried to expose her bare form and rubbed her hands along her body. Christine shivered at the thought. Never had she felt so violated.

Christine couldn't shake away the clinging feeling of dread. What had they done wrong in convincing her? Erik had been quick to explain his plan, the only true option that they had. As Christine worked on impromptu crying, he gripped her wrists tightly, as if he had held her down. She was to whimper and cry at the sight of him, resist him in every way. Though they barely spoke during their preparation, they both knew what had to be done to convince the Sultana of their supposed deed.

Christine shivered under the blankets. She wore only her thin chemise, though she had freed her shoulders from the straps to seemingly look bare under the blankets. Quickly, she slid her arms back through the straps and pulled the fabric back over her shoulders.

"You must pretend that I have done the unforgivable. You must hate me, detest me in every way. It is the only way you will survive here, do you understand?"

Christine had nodded wordlessly at his demand. More than anything she wanted to deny this. She could see the pain in his eyes, his lower jaw setting into an angry scowl as he gripped her wrists tighter. For just a moment, his had grip softened.

"There is an alternative." He had whispered. Christine remembered the softness in his features. It passed over briefly, but Christine reached out for him as he tried to step away and return to the darkness.

"What alternative?" She inquired gently. She grabbed his hand, his fingers shaking within her palm.

"We could run away."

Christine rubbed her temple with her palms, thinking back on his words. At the time, she was speechless, unable to answer him. It wasn't long until they heard voices outside the door and leapt to their positions. She had laid there, sheepishly lowering her chemise under the blankets as he unbuckled his belt. For a moment, she expected him to undress before he froze at the side of the bed, his back facing her. She barely had time to think on his words before the Sultana burst into the room.

She pondered the thought, imagining where the two of them would run. Would they return to Paris, or hide in the countryside of Persia? She imagined a small clay house on a hill in the foreign land. Their home would be full of music; of songs and pieces that filled the countryside with wonder. For a moment, it felt like a dream come true.

But she shook the butterflies from her stomach. It could never be. He was an assassin of the Shah and she was a ballerina from France. Though their childhoods mingled for a brief period of time, they would never be able to go back to how things were. He avoided her entirely or consumed her every sense. There was passion and indifference, lust and recoil. If it was love, or anything like that, there wouldn't be such confusion. She had always known she was in love with Raoul, and it was easy to be together at first. Isn't that how love was supposed to be; easy? It was easy to love her father, easy to love Mama Valerius. If something was difficult, didn't that mean it couldn't happen?

She wiped a tear that dripped down her cheek. Both of them knew there was no way to run. Their situation and course was inescapable and no matter how much she denied it, they both knew they couldn't flee. Even if they did escape, she would drown in the guilt of leaving her friends behind. After all they had been through, there was no way she could abandon them; no matter how beautiful a dream may have been.

She closed her eyes, taking in the musky scent of the blankets. It had been months since she slept on a bed. As she wrapped herself in the blankets, it took her no time at all to drift off into sleep. She dreamed of the music of the night.

-Later that night-

When Christine awoke again, the candle light had dimmed down to a struggling ember. It barely outlined the room, though Christine's eyes adjusted quickly. But it wasn't the change in brightness that awoke her.

It was a violin. A gentle tune that caressed her eardrums until she was fully conscious. At first, she thought she was dreaming. It sounded exactly like her father; full of emotion and eloquent in every detail. Yet, this tune was unfamiliar, not the ones that used to haunt her. As if in a trance, she slipped her legs out from the sheet. The stone floor felt icy under the pads of her feet, but the violin numbed her of almost all sensation. She snuck to the door, pressing her ear against it. Sure enough, the violin was coming from the other side.

Erik.

A shiver crept down her spine. She had no idea he could play the violin like this, but something about its tune let her know it was he who played. It felt as though it had been years since she had heard such magnificence. Of course, Ignacio was an exceptional violinist, but he lacked the emotional depth that her father could bring out in each pluck of the string. Her body trembled as she felt the heartbreak and despair in the song; the shrill timbre that communicated in ways she never thought she would hear again.

Her hand gripped at the handle. It didn't matter that she was in her chemise, or that it was so late in the night. She needed to see it, to hear it more. But her dreams were dashed when she heard the familiar clank of the lock.

For just a moment, the music stopped. Christine held her breath, unsure if Erik had heard her. His last words with her seemed angry, but she still yearned to see him. She had so many questions, so much she wanted to say. Though she could not formulate her thoughts into words, more than anything she wanted to just blurt anything in her mind. She waited impatiently for him to open the door.

But the music continued, and Christine sighed with defeat. He would not talk to her, nor should he. The thoughts in her mind was just a young girl's foolish fantasies. How could she be so naïve? She could slam her fists against the door and she was certain he would ignore her. Even if he did answer, he would never reciprocate the madness that plagued her, the emotions she couldn't identify.

She shuffled back to bed, hugging herself. All of his actions were out of obligation for their past friendship. The second they had a chance to break free, he would let her go. She curled into the sheets, wiping away the tears that stung her eyes. Once this was all over, she knew she would dream of this tune. It would be another violin tune to remind her of the ones she had lost.

Christine rolled over and closed her eyes once again.

She was awoken by a gentle knock on the door. She nearly leapt out of bed, fearing it was the return of the Sultana. But Nadir's gentle voice calmed her and she quickly dressed. Nadir awaited for her in the other room, having unlocked the door and taken a seat at the table. The room was much more well lit and Christine was able to take in the small space.

Nadir smiled at her. He wore a crimson uniform, one neatly pressed and gleaming with a few small medals.

"I must return you to the Harem." He informed. "You will not be distrubed by the Sultana or the Shah, though I encourage you to remain hidden and obedient for the time being."

Christine nodded. "Where is Erik?" She asked quietly.

Nadir's smile faded just for a moment. "He had some business to attend to. I do not know when he will return."

Christine looked down at her slippers. After what had transpired the night before, she was not shocked that he did not want to face her. She prayed he did not carry guilt for what had happened. "If you see him, will you give him my thanks? He went to extraordinary lengths to ensure my safety. I am eternally grateful."

Nadir nodded. "Of course. I must remind you that this act continues until the day you escape. Fazia will be watching your every move- even when you think you are safe. You cannot tell anyone the truth. Do you understand?"

Christine nodded, though her stomach felt queasy. She would have to lie to her friends. They would hate him, as they should if these acts were true. But her heart ached to know that they would think so badly of him when he had done so much to protect her. She swallowed. How long could she pull off this act?

Nadir lead her back to the harem wordlessly. His hand gripped her upper arm, though his fingers were gentle against her skin. Christine kept her eyes downcast, looking at the now purple bruises along her wrist.

Her reunion with her friends went exactly as she expected. They rushed to her side, demanding to know if she was alright. At first, it gave her some hope to see that they were certain it was all an act. But from the corner of her eye, she could see Fazia glance in her direction.

That was all she needed to burst into tears. Her cries echoed around the room as she collapsed into her friends arms.

"I trusted him. He-he deceived me."

Meg had paled, Jammes had cried, and Sorelli had remained silent. All of them handled their shock differently, but their eyes gleamed with the same emotions. As the four of them huddled onto a bed in the back of the room, Christine continued to sob. It was no longer an act, but genuine tears of regret that trickled from her cheeks.

She prayed that one day the world would see him as the angel he was. He had taken every beating, every detest and harsh thought. It was as if all the hatred in the world rested on his shoulders. It killed her to see him in such pain. More than anything, she wanted to reach out to him and push that weight off. But here she was, crying in the arms of her friends as she spurted necessary lies. Each word felt like a cut to her skin as she imagined that lonely look of despair so common in his eyes.

God, give me courage to show you. She prayed. You are not alone.


Thank you all for your reviews!

Lucyole: These past couple chapters have just been full of acts! However, there is definitely some truth behind their actions- they are slowly falling for each other more and more. Hope their relationship is still building realistically! would love some feedback on your opinion. Thank you!

Phantomgirl24: Aaaannnndd I made you wait two weeks. SO sorry! The tension with these two is crazy and it will continue to get crazier. Glad to hear you are loving these characters!

Yinuotong: It is getting STEAM-Y! No need to apologize, I totally get the pressure of school. Thank you for taking time to respond anyways :) I would love to reach 100 reviews soon. Thank you for your support!

Guest: I am doing well, just busy. Thank you for checking in! I really appreciate it! Hope you are enjoying this story :).