Chapter Fourteen:

I feel dirty. I feel like a traitor. I awoke early this morning covered in only the accursed silk with Michael by my side, his bare chest heaving. He got what he wanted, what he craved, me. I stared at him for what seemed like forever. Here I still am, my gaze only for him, but not out of love... No. I gaze at him trying to understand his logic. Though he has very little. I crush the silk beneath my fingers for what seemed like the thousandth time. It reminds me so much of the dress I wore on the night of my 'death'. It was a simple gift from Matthew, a thank you, he told me, for my friendship that apparently, he treasured greatly.

His eyes open. The midnight blue that has entranced me many times before. I can see the spark in his eyes, fireworks going off in his brain. He's celebrating quietly, but not invisibly.

"My sweet angel." I feel his hand on my cheek and I close my eyes instantly. The terrible dew springs to my eyes, and I feel a single drop trail down my cheek. "Shhh... Don't cry. Nothing should taint such beauty." His thumb brushes it away.

This simple act. So much caring in it. It's like when we were children. When I would run to him to find comfort. He was my guardian.

'Why would Draco hurt me so much? I thought he was my friend...' Draco and I had fought once again. This time about his fire.

I ran and ran. I ran to the garden in the back of the Serpentine Family's headquarters. The roses who grew there were whispering to me. They told me of their secrets many times. All the secret meetings that Hervana disappeared to often were often held in the garden. The roses listened for me and shared the plots that she had. I clutched a handful of stems. The sharp thorns pierced my fingertips and a simple drop of blood trickles down my hand. 'I'm no better than Francesca.'

"Sierra?" I hear the unnaturally deep voice of Michael.

"Please. Leave. I don't want to talk about it..." No matter how I pleaded he still stayed and eventually kneeled to my side.

"Why are you bleeding?" I look away in shame, the drop had halted on my wrist. "You shouldn't do this to yourself Sierra." He raises my wrist to his mouth and sucks the blood. I should have seen the signs. His liking of blood. The answer was glaring in my face, but I didn't see it. Or I refused to see it. I loved him then.

"What happened to our childhood Michael?" The question I'd been wanting so badly to ask. The innocence. The love. Where did it all go?

His eyes shine with hurt. Something I haven't seen in years. "It died the day you did. Remember when Cleo predicted the war of those who once held trust? We all knew that she was never wrong. Our only hope was you, but I was blinded by hurt..." I've never seen him so emotional before and I have a deep urge to come closer to him, to touch his cheek, but I cannot. I'm afraid of getting to close to him. I'm afraid of making a mistake. "Please Sierra. I beg of you. Please stay with me. Don't go to Draco. He's hurt you more than I ever have..."

"But you tried to kill me, and that I can never forget." I shut my eyes as I feel the aching pain come over me once again. I have no urge to leave yet... Though I wish I did. It's a horrible thing to be held like a prisoner, but not to feel like one. I should feel so much worse. I should want to escape, but all I can do is curl into the comfort of the silk and cry myself to sleep.

Michael

She's shivering. She's crying. Everything I wish I hadn't done to her. I've done nothing but hurt her my whole life. I don't want to anymore, but how can I? I've come so close to this goal. So incredibly close. There's no backing out now.

She faces away from me. Turning her back on me, on her past life. Slowly, her body calms. I love her. I love her more than she knows. More than she'll ever know. If only she could understand. If only she could see... If only.

Draco

I feel it build more and more. But a small hand covers mind. A small, delicate hand. I gaze up into the violet orbs of Francesca. Concern reflects in her face. She knows of my pain. She understands.

"Draco. What are you doing?" I feel four pairs of eyes stare at me. Their expressions indiscernible to me because I refuse to know. I only look at Francesca.

"She's alive Francesca... SHE'S ALIVE!"

Francesca

I flinch at his obvious anger. Hurt reflects in the silver ocean. I want to tell him I knew, but would he hate me? He wants to hear my reassurance that it's all a lie. I feel his firm grip on my hands, a representation of our connection. Our strong friendship. His palms burn but I don't mind. That pain could not compare to the things I've caused myself before.

I can't lie to him. He'll find out. He'll hate me... Forever.

"Draco. I know she's alive. I found out on my own..." His expression changes. He pushes me away with such force that I'm cowering in his shadow on the floor.

"What." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A statement of his fury. Of his fire. Of everything he's ever despised thrown against me.

I start tearing up. He doesn't understand what this does to me. What the memories do to me... My father. My father.

Insanity overcomes me. "No! Please please no! Daddy I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! AHHH!!"

Draco

Oh my god. She curls into a fetal position. Shaking and crying. How could I have done this to her? I never wanted to be this. I never did.

I can't move. I back away from the portrait of suffering before me. She was so beautiful, but so horribly in pain. I'm so sorry Francesca. I'm so sorry Sierra.

I turn around and run out the door, hearing the faint cries of Mrs. Ventina echo behind me. I won't turn back. I can't. The moor of the manor may stretch out for miles, but I will run until I can escape everything godforsaken memories that stay behind.

Sierra

My eyes flutter open and I'm greeted by the canopy once again. The detailing is beautiful. Every carve done with so much precision. Hmm... Am I jealous? Of course. Every rose, every leaf, every willow carved with perfect detail echoes off his own persona. Michael never was half done when it came to anything, Almost and obsession of his. Perfection. he cannot be distracted from any fault. No matter how small.

I laugh silently to myself. I have an unfortunate habit of observing things so as to distract myself from my surroundings. It may not seem like a problem, but on more than one occasion some bad event has befallen me because of my deep thought. These occasions only occurred during my... training. It's hard to think back to then. The great pressure. The horrific memories of everything. As a child I would wonder if it was all worth it in the end.

I should probably snap out of my cloud and into reality. Breathing deeply, I roll over to my side, facing him. His dark lashes shadow his cheeks. A beautiful vision of a man I daresay. I never denied myself of ignoring his unnatural beauty. Blaise was never like him. But Blaise was also never cursed like him.

A sudden urge strikes me to stroke his cheek. The smoothness reminds me of chocolate. His skin reminds me of chocolate. However, I resist. Why put myself through the torture that that simple touch would cause myself?

Not that it matters anymore. I've already committed the deed. It's too late.

A deep sigh escapes his lips and i gaze into his not open, blue eyes. They have been observing me as well.

Silence

"Sierra. Why must you leave me? You know that Draco has broken every promise you asked him to make." A fair point. But not convincing.

"He may have broken promises, but he is no murderer." A shine of amusement bestows in his hypnotizing orbs.

"A murderer is someone who killed another. I did not kill you..."

"But you robbed me my life." I feel my eyes narrowing. The hatred building inside of me. He will never understand.

Michael

I cannot look into those turquoise eyes without guilt creeping over my body. I want to avert away from her burning glare, but I don't know if this will be the last I will see it for a while.

Doesn't she understand it was the only way? All of this could've been prevented if she didn't desert me for another.

I'm not crazy, just hurt beyond repair. I don't care a lot for what she feels. She already killed me inside. Now she will understand what it feels like when everything you've ever wanted is handed to you and then it all gets taken away. Pulled out of your grasp. Everything.

I'm not crazy. Just disturbed.