''I wouldn't do that if I were you,'' I hear someone whisper. Next emotion that hits me: confused.
''There you are honey!'' the same voice says louder now. I look up and meet two green eyes looking down at me. The man has black curly hair and a big smile on his lips. I force a smile back, not knowing what to do. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and I feel myself starting to blush, my cheeks heating up.
I realize this man is trying to help me, drawing the attention away from me. To all the people in this bar, I had looked vulnerable and small, but with this guy with me, I looked safe and protected. I quickly grabbed one of his arms, clinging on him, desperate not to let go. He smoothly takes us to the nearest table in the corner and sits down, pulling me down with him.
We sit next to each other because he technical drags me down beside him. I am not completely comfortable being this close to him, but the hunters are still looking, and I wouldn't dare to let go. The guy orders two drinks for us and pays her with a smile on his face. What is wrong with this guy?
''Wha… Who.'' I don't know which one to ask. It just seems wrong and I stumble on the words.
''Thank you,'' I finally whispers, and he gives me a nod before scanning the room.
''I'm Jake, and you are?'' he smirks, studying me. I frown, not liking the way he is looking at me.
''I am Addison, but people call me Sonnie.'' Nodding his head in a approval, he quickly give me another kiss on the cheek. No way, he can't do this. In a try to defend my rights, I burry my nails into his jacket. He jerk away in a small smooth move, then returns slowly, trying to calm me.
''Relax. They are looking,'' he breathes into my hair. My eyes widen as I realize I am in big trouble. Shit.
''Shouldn't we go?'' I say in a small voice, wanting to kick myself when I sound so insecure.
''We have to wait a while,'' he says, shaking his head. I nod and stare down into my lap, where my hands are now trembling. Looking up his eyes meet mine. Usually I hate green, because of the time. But this kind of green… It's like a river, hidden in the forest. Feeling myself getting lost in his eyes, I quickly turn away, looking down at my hands again.
''What brings you here?'' he interrupts our awkward silence. I push back my hair behind by ear, annoyed of it always falling into my face, preventing me to see anything. Thinking to myself, I am grateful for Jake and his quick rescue. But still… could I trust him? He was as much an enemy as all the others in this place. This world. Having no idea what to answer, I guess I am telling the truth.
''Meet up a friend. You?'' But I really did wonder, what was he doing here?
Seeing him up close, he certainly wasn't one of those people who preferred spending their time in places like this. He wore a big gray sweater, a dark blue jacket, black pants and green shoes. You couldn't see his clock, but I bet he had a lot of time on there. As a instinct, I pulled up the right fabric over my arm. He noticed my small move and gave me a light smile.
''I am not here to fight you. And what I am here for? I think I can spend my time as I like to.'' I am pretty certain my mouth is now hanging open in a big o. But it's like I can't control it. Staring into those eyes, I find nothing. I shut my mouth.
''I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought you weren't that kind of person…'' He laughs, but I just frown at him, still worried about the whole expression I've just gave him.
''Thank you I guess? But if you don't like it here, why meet up with your friend here?'' I don't know why, but I decide I can thrust this guy. I guess it was the fact that I felt alone and afraid that I felt this. If I'd just be with either Mason or Owen right now… He stands up, taking my hand, helping me up. I give him a grateful smile, but it doesn't come right through, still a little shaken by Mason and Owens names floating around in my head.
Finally outside, filling my lungs with clean air, I feel my focus are slowly coming back. Jake takes my hand, starting to walk away from the bar. And then I start explaining everything to him. Telling him about Owen, Ben and Mason. I leave out my left arm of course. I've made a rule. Never, ever talk about it. I can hear footsteps behind us, and we walk faster. But not fast enough. A hand grabs mine, pulling me away from Jake, throwing me against the closest wall. There are two of them, and Jake is trying to get away from the other ones tight grip. Fear overflow me. This would never happen if I were with Owen. Where was he? I missed him.
Keeping my eyes shut, I hear myself whimpering and gasping for air. Its soon over. My whole wall I've built around myself as protection will fall. Everything, lost. The man is laughing in my face and his breath stinks alcohol. I try to yank away, but fail. I hear Jake scream to the person, but his voice is blurry. What is happening to me? I can feel a sting in my arm. No, please, why. My left arm was being stabbed. By eyes open and I scream my lungs out. Not even knowing where the force came from, I push the man away from me with so much power he falls down to the ground, cauging.
I can hear Jakes voice in the distance, but the pain is stronger. I am starting to lose my balance. This is not good. Starting to fall, a arm dives under me and catches me. I fall into the persons hard chest and I start breaking out in tears. He breathes comforting words to me, but I don't really care about them. I want Owen here with me, not Jake. He doesn't even know me. He takes my hand and we find a harmony between the two of us, starting to walk away.
After walking for 10 minutes in silence, or well, small whimpering from me, we finally find our destination. I find myself in a bright apartment, filled with abstract furniture's and strange paintings on the wall. Sitting down on the closest chair I breath out a relived sight. He is by my side, looking down at my arm, then goes away for a while, bringing back a hot towel, filled with water. I am afraid he will notice, but the pain is too much. Please, just make it stop.
I take the towel, quickly covering up my whole arm before taking of the fabric, now covered with my blood. The towel helps, and I feel pleased with myself that I managed to hide my arm before he could make out anything.
The girl is beautiful. I haven't seen anyone this beautiful in twenty years. And that was my sister. I feel pain cover my body and I quickly brush away the thought of Emma. Instead, I look at Addison. She is sitting there, fingering on her hair, pushing it away from her face, frustrated. Her grey eyes stares down at her shoes, drumming against the floor. I suggested she could stay here for a while, giving her brother and his friend some time. Also, she is hurt, I couldn't just leave her.
When I came back from the kitchen making coffee, she jumps up when she sees me.
''You wouldn't have a scissor laying around here would you?'' she asks in a polite voice, giving me a smile. I don't smile back, but instead eyes wondering around, thinking of where the scissor is. I never used it, so how could I know? I am curious about what she wants to do. And with one hand? As long as she doesn't stab me- but no. People don't do that anymore. They don't want to waste time. They erase, they take.
As soon she got the scissor, she ran away to the bathroom and five minutes later, she came back with a smile on her lips. Bangs suited her, it really did. I give her a thumbs up and she starts to blush again.
''You're in a hurry?'' I ask. She did move fast, I had noticed. But somehow, she didn't seem desperate. I waited, but didn't get an answer. She is staring out my window, looking at the people outside. Yawning, she leans against the wall beside the window.
''I think that depends on how you're looking at it,'' she says in a dreamy voice. I nod, taking hold of the towel she's rapped up around her arm, wanting to get her a new one. It felt natural for me to help her. It was something about her that made you very protective. But I don't know what… Before she's able to do anything, it is in my hands and her arm is uncovered. I shouldn't have done it. I've seen how careful she was, showing her clock. But this? This was too much.
''No!'' she gasps. But it's too late. I've already seen it.
There it is, her arm. The pale skin has a small tone of red after the blood and water mixing on her skin. The cut isn't streaming out blood anymore, but there is something else this time.
She owns no clock.
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