Thanks to all my fans, all... 1 of you? 2, 3, 4? I dunno. Anyway, thanks for reading. Please review, and enjoy! *Special thanks to Herz von Silber, who reads everything I put up here. Love ya. :)*
Chapter: Will
Will stormed of to his room after the verbal beating the girl had given him. What was her name… Belle. She took one look at him, sized him up, and turned out to be a worthy adversary. How did she know all that about him? Worse, he didn't even get to make a witty retort. Something about her eyes… they made him freeze up, lose focus. "Damn it, Will Herondale! What's wrong with you?" he asked himself out loud. "I'd say quite a lot, if you're reduced to talking to yourself," said someone behind him. Will whirled around to see Charlotte standing there; he hadn't heard her come in.
"Charlotte! I didn't see you there," he muttered. Any other person might be slightly embarrassed to be caught talking to themselves, but not Will. He had no conscience or sense of shame- Jem provided both for him, as well as a sense of self-preservation. "So, can I help you with anything?" He tried to keep his annoyance for that… girl… out of his voice. After all, he was quite fond of Charlotte, and he didn't want her to think he was cross with her.
"Actually, yes," she said. "Have you had a chance to talk to the girl yet?"
"Belle," he corrected automatically, then mentally chided himself. Why should her name matter to them?
Charlotte smiled. "I guess you have, then. So what is she- mundane, Downworlder, or one of us?"
Will looked away. "Actually… I don't know. She didn't tell me. And it wasn't so much a conversation as a battle of wits." Which I lost, he added mentally.
Charlotte seemed disappointed, though not altogether surprised. It was Jem, after all, not Will, who was better with such things anyway. "I know Jem stayed by her bed all night; is that where he is now? With her?"
Will nodded. "Yeah. And I think her injuries are healed, but I don't really know. She was in bed when I got there. She looks better, anyway."
Charlotte raised her eyebrows. "Why, Will, I've never known you to care so much for a stranger before. What's changed?" Without waiting for an answer, as she knew she wouldn't get one, she laughed and started for the door, intent on finding Jem for the full scoop. As she was leaving, Will's voice floated past her, quiet: "I don't care about her! Why should I? I don't care," though he sounded uncertain at the end, like he was trying to convince himself.
When Charlotte was gone, Will turned to face the cold, gray sky outside his bedroom window. Charlotte thought he cared for the girl. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, but it didn't stop him from feeling affronted. Which led him again to the thought: What the hell was wrong with him?