I'm not dead. So, don't worry. Here you go, next chapter.


The Golden Being

chapter 7: the golden trust

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She watches Rosie Jenkins with plain hazel eyes, merely observing than speculating; her soft chestnut curls bounce within each step she takes, and it slightly amuses Nellie inside. She also watches the way Kristy's eyes twinkles as she laughs with the youngest Jenkins, clearly enjoying the company, knowing full well that her older sister had wanted to have children for a long amount of time now.

Then, her eyes slowly shifts to Blake. His figure is rigid, and his penetrating eyes are tense. Besides from the slight shock at the first sight of her in the first moments when the dinner began, she couldn't read anything more for him. What is he thinking?

Her palm slowly drenches in sweats and she slowly wipes it off on her dress. If her mother had seen that, the older woman would be furious. She lifts her chin back again at Jenkins- she should probably stop calling her that, considering they are four people here who are Jenkins. Blake. She tests his name in her mind. His name is Blake.

Her arm extends and her fingers brushes gently against his suit - terrified for a second - before she gets a careful grip on it.

"Rosie!" He screams instead, turning his head directly at her. She startles at the sudden reaction and lets her fingers hover his suit, releasing her grip. He blinks, clearly not expecting his little sister.

Her voice comes out small and terrified, something that wouldn't happen if it's Jesse she's talking with. "S-sorry?"

"Oh," he mutters out coolly, his eyes travels sideways for a moment. "You're not Rosie."

She lets a blink slip, "I'm not."

There's an awkward pause in mid-air, and that's when she gathers up the bravery that seems to be missing from her. The edge she always has to protect herself. How can she be vulnerable in front of Blake? The answer is simple. She couldn't. "I need to talk to you."

Blake looks at her like she's speaking truths that could be a lie. He nods his head once, "Okay."

He moves so poise, it amazes her. It should be like a robot, like he was trained to be moved like that. He is. They all are. But somehow, his movements fit him. That's who he is- he is a gentle, poised and careful man. If he doesn't hold a threat against her throat right then, she might just fall for him. Her heart beat leaps. "Uncle, father, Joseph and Laura."

The adults stop.

They stare at him before their eyes pass him and lands to look at her, who stands just inches away from him. "Nellie and I would like to have a private chat, if you may?" The way he asks for approval is slick and toneless, as if it won't matter if he doesn't get approved.

Her mother's the one who answers as she waves of, "Sure, dear. Just make sure to return here by the lobby by ten."

Her father has a small smile up on his face, "Be careful with her, son."

It's a warning, of course.

Jesse takes a step forward, "Just so to make sure he is careful with her, I think I should go wit-"

"No, you shouldn't." Kristin is fast enough to pull him and keep him where he is.

He glances back at her and she nods her head. She moves first and she can hear his footsteps following behind, in a slow pattern she doesn't recognize with her heart thumping in between. They walk to the garden behind the hotel- where the trees are trim perfectly and lights like Christmas dangles in between branches as if the stars are on earth. Nellie lets a smile grow just a little bit.

The wind blows in a soft breeze and she turns around to face him. "I need you to keep quiet."

He raise an eyebrow, "Of what?"

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "You know of what."

"Ah. Your identity?" There's a hint of mockery in his tone, but she keeps her lips seal. He comes closer and she gets a whiff of his perfume, and strangely enough, she could feel her blood rushes over her head to her whole body. "You expect me, Blake Jenkins, to keep your identity a secret? My, aren't you just a pretty, little, silly dreamer?"

"Please," she steps forward, her tone lowers and weakens. She can't let anybody know.

She just can't.

It comes out in a hush whisper, her eyes on the grass below them and her ego shuts down entirely. "I beg you."

He doesn't speak for the next minute, but she could feel his eyes staring through her head. He comes closer- so close, her breath hitches in her throat. She tries to calm her breaths, afraid he would somehow hear it. He won't, she tells herself. He's not superman with super hearing. She hopes.

His fingers comes unexpectedly. They touches her raven bangs, which falls by the right side of her face and pulls on it slowly, like a soft tug. She gulps and bites her inner cheek- trying to stand her guard. She doesn't understand why he's doing this. She doesn't understand his gestures at all. She doesn't understand why she doesn't shove his hands away.

He's still tugging on her hair when he asks, "What's in it for me, huh?"

Her gaze goes straight to his.

His eyes are brown.

She swallows and slowly takes a hold of his large hand to move it away slowly. "W-what do you want?"

She lets his hand slip from her grasp and let it falls by his side, where it belongs- and she silently sighs. The heat from his hand is still on her palm and it tingles lightly. He tilts his head to one side, sliding his hand easily inside of his pocket. "I don't know," he mutters out, eyes are still fully on her. "What could I expect from you?"

"I don't know," she answers- she hates expectations, especially if it's being put on her all so suddenly. "I mean, what can you expect from me?! You don't even know me! Heck, you bullied me at school!"

"I never touch you."

"Yeah, you just sit there and watch!" She barks, and they stare at one another for a while. The air stings, and it prickles on her skin sickly. She continues, but her voice lowers, "You promised. Remember? You won't let it. You said it so yourself. But you sit there, and just watched!"

She doesn't tell her how she almost hope he didn't promise anything in the first place.

She doesn't tell how seeing him, just watching her all those times, actually sends an impact towards her.

She doesn't tell how she feels betrayed.

He doesn't say anything in respond. The young man just stands there and stares at her like she's a masterpiece that's being displayed for his eyes to speculate. She huffs and puffs the air from her lungs and tries to calm herself down. There's no use in losing temper. Especially to him, she sighs, letting her bangs drop like curtains. "I- I shouldn't—"

"Why do you enter McKinley in the first place?" he cuts her off, and there's something inside of his eyes that makes him appear like he isn't who he is.

Who is Blake Jenkins?

Nellie doesn't know.

"Why?" she demands, because that's the only thing she can do. "Why would you want to know?"

Bluntly, with just a simply shrug of shoulders, he answers. "Curious."

She wants to argue- she really do. She just chooses to give up instead. Walking towards a bench situated in between trees, she takes a deep sigh. He comes slowly towards her but she doesn't let his presence distract her away. She has to treat as if he isn't there. As if she's talking to someone who she knows will keep all of her secrets as it is; a secret.

And then she tells.

She tells like she doesn't breathe.

She tells like she doesn't have anything to lose.

She tells like it's not a secret at all, but it is. It's a big secret.

And he doesn't speak. Not a word, not a comment. He just stares at her and listens. And for a moment - just for a moment of time - she feels content. He's just another page of a diary she needs to fill in gladly, and he swallows up her confession like it's his sole job to do. "...and that's why I came to McKinley. Now you know." She blinks up at him.

He doesn't blink back.

With a soft, tired smile, she asks, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Your reason." She mutters out. "There's got to be a reason behind your stay at McKinley."

"Of course there's a reason," he replies curtly.

She raises an eyebrow, expecting for an answer to follow his sentence. He pulls his brows together in confusion, before he continues, "That doesn't mean I should tell you."

"Smooth move," she spits, looking away.

She could hear he holds his breath, before he blows it out and sighs. "Fine," The handsome young man grumbles out. He gestures towards the empty seat next to the bench, "May I?"

Proper, proper. She nods, "It's a free country- sure."

He nods back and takes his seat, sighing loud once again. "Let me tell you about my mother. She's dead."

"Oh. I'm so sorr—"

"Don't. Don't interrupt me," he grits his teeth and clenches his fist, before he takes a deep breath. Nellie shrinks a little bit- I shouldn't ask. I shouldn't ask if I had known it would hurt him like this. He unclench his fist and drags his gaze away. "My mother was an angel. Truly an angel. Her name was Phillipa. She was originally from Paris- the city of love. To me, she was love itself. You could see it, you know? In her eyes. The way she laughed and sang and danced. And my God, was she beautiful; with curly light brown hair and bright green eyes. But somehow, she met my dad. I don't know how, I don't know why, I don't know if it should happen- but they fell in love."

There's hollowness and hatred in his voice, and Nellie knows it's not because of his mother. It's because of the fact his mother met his father. Is Mr Thomas "Tom" Jenkins that bad until he wishes he never met his mother, even if it costs his own existence. "My mother told me dad was a good guy- and maybe he was. A long time ago. Then he turned sour. Bad. Evil. He hurt my mother. He cheated on her. Huh. I never understood why he would do that. Why my mother still stayed. She did, though. She gave birth to Rosie, eventually."

"When she died, I acted out. I finally acted out. Being who I am, I used my powers to my advantage- illegally sometimes. I was almost this close to be sent to a juvie. Uncle Jeffrey saved me, while my father figured out a plan to straighten me out. He finally threw me in the environment where I'm not comfortable with, among average people. It was the most horrible day of my life. But... somehow, I didn't feel like fighting with him about this. I still don't know why I accepted being in McKinley though, but I think it has to do with my mother. She was an average girl too, she told me. She didn't have fancy clothes and personal assistants around her the whole time when she was growing up.

She went to high school. And as far as I have grown up, she told me the tales of her friendships and breakups and the hilarious dramas she experienced through schools. It was fun. It was like... a dream, you know? To turn out just like her. She turned out just fine. I think I might have a chance to."

A sob.

He turns.

"Are you...," Blake hesitates, looking at her red nose. "Are you crying?"

She nods vigorously, rubbing her running nose.

He rolls his eyes- but dip his hands deep in his pocket, before taking out a napkin and shoving it right across her face. She muffles against the napkin and takes it slowly, her cold fingertips brushing with his. "That was... T-that was...," she couldn't finish, and blows her nose out. He waits. After a few minutes, she lets her hand falls on her laps, along with the napkin. Blurry eyes and red nose, she asks, "Why did you tell me that?"

There's a crease between his brow when he frowns. "You asked."

"Yeah, but—" She tries to argue, her hands flailing around. "I didn't know it was that personal! Your mother, telling that must be—"

"It was fine." He manages, "She was a delight to talk about."

"B-but her de—" She shuts her mouth, knowing she might open up a new wound.

His fist slowly clenches, but his body relaxes. "Her death was an unfortunate. She died. We grieved. And she wanted me to move on, so I did."

"I don't understand—," she sniffles, plastering the napkin against her damp cheek. "—why you would share me this secret."

He scoffs, "It wasn't a secret."

Nellie uses her body weight to push him lightly, "I don't think you'd go around telling this story for fun. So yeah, this is practically a secret."

"I guess that's true," he responds flatly, shrugging one shoulder coolly.

"Then why me?" She turns her head at him, her eyes meeting with his once again. "Why share this secret with me?"

He lets a few minutes passed, and she watches as his eyes travel a little to the left. His fingers come up and tugs on her bangs again, "Because—" he tugs once more, "—you can keep a secret, mouse."

"First, you don't know that. Second, don't play with my hair—" she pushes his hand away. "Third, what did you call me?"

He kinda smiles, but not quite. Probably a smirk. "First, oh I do know that. Second, why can't I? Third, a mouse."

"Why would you call me a mouse?" She questions.

"Because your face reminds me of it," he replies curtly.

"I do not look like a mouse!"

"What?" Blake makes a strange face, "Mouse is cute, no?"

She stops short- and stutters out. "C-cute. Are you suggesting that I am- cute?"

"Would you like me to call you a donkey instead?"

"NO!"

"Then I guess it's settled, mouse."

She lets out an empty laugh and lets her chin falls before slowly leaning in against him. "You know, I never thought I'd tell you this; but among anyone else, I'm actually fine that you know my secret. About me- and the whole I'm-not-a-St-James. And I don't even know why."

"Because deep down inside you know you could trust me."

She purses her lips together. "Can I though? Can I, really?"

"I made a promise, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but-" her voice stuck. "I don't know if I can believe you."

"It won't matter," he lifts his chin up and closes his eyes. "I'd be there, mouse."

"So you won't blow my identity up?"

"I don't think I'd like to."

"Good," she nods, exhaling out. "Thank you."

He tilts his head to one side. "Good, now could you... give me some space?"

She turns her head only to bump against his shoulder and moves away, holding his napkin against her nose and whimpering out, "Sorry."

He stands up, shaking his head. "Mouse."

Cute.

She blushes, but doesn't tell.


It's short, I know. But I did update it, didn't I? Oh, and the competition IS CANCELED.

slytherinblellie- I'm really glad you like the previous chapter. That means so much. I mean, Blake and the Jenkins deserve a chapter of their own, right? As for the exams; yeah, my teacher is working my butt off up to the point where I could just drop onto the floor and take a nap. But thank you so much! The exam isn't until month of September or October though, but still. I appreciate it so.

LadyAnnabellaRose- Awh, thanks for your lovely review! I also love creating Rosie as a character; I always imagine her as the annoying sister that Blake always love without a second thought you know? I'm very happy you like the chapter dedicated to the Jenkins. It's always been a plan of mine to show a little inside of Blake's mind, behind the closed door of the Jenkins.

Klaine-Angel504- another AMAZING review from you. Wow. Thanks soo much. Rosie is cute, right? lol.

Hnina- I received the prompt and posted it on Tumblr. I didn't know if you saw it- but yeah. Anyways, thanks for dropping a review. It always show that you care, and it means a lot to me. I wanna give you a hug!

wires and waves- I don't know how I could write so long. I just do. This one is a little short, though. :) So glad that you like it.

Guest- Thank you for reviewing!