Hey!
I apologise for the length of this chapter, I know it's not the longest but if I do shorter chapters it means I can update more regularly and you won't be left on the painful cliff-hangers for very long ;) Thank you so much if you've been reading from the beginning and are still here haha, and also thank you to those lovely people who comment frequently! Without further ado, chapter 5...
Desperate to help him, I rush over and reach out, but he shuffles backwards.
"Don't," he begs, voice shaking. When I don't move, he tries again.
"Please."
"It's ok. I promise I won't hurt you," I say gently, smiling at him, "are you ok?"
"Yes," he says. Too quickly. Too hastily.
He talked to me. That's better than nothing, so I decide not to push any further. Moving across to the window, I see that the sun is glowing golden as it begins to set, spilling out its light generously across the Parisian buildings. There's a steady beam of light that's shining through our window. Our window. Huh. It's strange, using that word again after so long. I close my eyes and feel its warmth on my face. I can imagine it being expelled from the sun, flowing down from the sky in a trickle of light and making its way to our small window, where it knows it's needed to brighten our cell, our lives, our view. I make another decision; I don't care about overstepping the mark. I turn to Blond Boy, who is still touching his new wounds and wincing in pain, unaware he is being watched.
"It's beautiful out there, isn't it," I comment, watching his reaction closely. He follows my gesture and realises I'm talking about the view from the window. I can see him look wistfully outside, recognising the expression I've worn too often.
"It's a cruel reminder to me," he replies sadly, joining me at the window
I turn around once more to look at him, not realising he was standing next to me. This is the closest I've ever been to him, I realise. Despite his current state, I see that he has bright green eyes that are filled with depth, and slightly tanned skin. His hair is golden blond and tousled. I don't believe he could've killed someone. At all.
"What is it?" he asks, and I painfully realise that I've been frowning at him.
Then the most unfamiliar thing happens. I feel my face burn with a blush and have to look at the floor.
"Nothing, it's just... it's nothing. Do they come around to tell us to go to sleep here?"
He pauses, thinking for a moment.
"I don't think so. I'm normally asleep by now anyway, I don't usually have company," he explains.
I'm taken aback. Here I am, having a normal conversation with a person, a real, living, breathing, feeling person. And, one that hours ago wouldn't come near me. But I also realise that I've invaded his room, stolen his mattress to sleep on and kept him awake. So, I timidly fix my eyes on the floor.
"I-I'm sorry, you can go to sleep if you like. I'll be quiet."
He frowns at me, but it seems painful for him, and he groans in pain, his finger lightly brushing a particularly bloody gash on his face. Unable to leave him in pain, I try to help.
"Are you sure you don't want me to..." I begin.
"No!" he half shouts, swatting my hand away, the look of terror rushing back to his face, greeting his features like a well-known acquaintance. I give a small gasp, taken aback by his tone, and retreat to my end of the room.
"You can have the mattress," I mumble quietly, before curling up on the floor and using my hands as a pillow as I try desperately to go to sleep.
I don't see Blond Boy open his mouth as if about to say something. I don't see the pained look on his face as he drags the mattress over to his side of the room. I don't notice as he glances up at me again before he lies on it and goes to sleep. I don't see a thing.
As I lie on the cold and corroded floor, waiting, hoping, for sleep to take hold of me and bring me into its warm embrace, I think. Just like I used to. I think of my old cell, strangely missing its familiarity. It's only now I realise how much I liked to be alone.
Because I hadn't talked to someone else in almost 728 days.
And now I have, I feel more lonely than ever. The feeling is slowly beginning to eat away at me, gnawing at my insides and devouring me slowly until I'm left completely and utterly empty. I've got no friends, no magic, no bed. I'm isolated, my own pawn on the elaborate board game that is life.
But I'm still not going crazy.
I'm Marinette.
And I'm going to break free.