Ignite Me
Chapter 2 "Adam"
Anderson knows I'm alive.
He knows that I've been staying in Warner—Aaron's room.
He knows it
and I don't know how I only found this out now.
It's been two days since I told Aaron about this, about his father knowing that I'm still alive and I don't know what to do next I just don't.
Since it's still 1P.M. Aaron is still at Sector 45, doing God-knows-what. Sometimes I try to ignore the fact that I miss him by doing things like chores, or watching TV, or thinking about Anderson. Yes, I think about him, I think about what he would do if we meet again, if he would kill me, because somehow just thinking about my hate for him makes me forget the fact that there's a possibility I'll never see Aaron again. And now, after finally admitting what I felt for him, I did everything I can to show him that my love for him was real.
I had to prove to him that it wasn't because he saved me. It was because... I don't know.
I just fell in love with him in a way that I don't even know how it begun, when it begun and why. Sometimes I feel like this is all impossible, but then I think, No, it isn't. You are not going to do this again to yourself. So I didn't.
But I know that he still thinks that this, what I feel about him, is impossible. An illusion. "I really did have delusions about you when you were gone," he said, "I was close to locking myself up for seeing things that are never there. That will never be there..." My heart was close to tears with the way he said it.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
I called him by his name.
Aaron.
Every time those words come out from me, all the worry and the fear is gone from his face. His name has become the key to unlocking him, to breaking down the walls he built. His name is another form of the words "You're forgiven", and if he didn't think of it as that, then at least I do.
The sudden bang from the door brings me out of my daydream, and when I turn to look at the cause of it, whatever it is that I dreamt of has been erased from my mind from the sight of the handsome boy standing in front of me. He's wearing a blue button-down shirt with dark slacks, and his hair a sexy mess.
A second later he catches me staring and a sexy smirk appears on his kissable lips. My heart skipped.
"Where are you going?"
His playful grin falters, his brows creasing and his lips thinning into a grim line. "I have a meeting with my supervisors. They're the ones who guide me in my operation, tells me the pros and cons and all that." He explains before fixing the cuffs of his sleeves.
For a second I thought he was going to meet his father. I sighed with relief and move closer toward him and snake my arms around his neck. He stops fixing and instinctively places his hands on my waist, pulling me closer against him.
"I won't be gone long." He says it as if he's giving an idea when he gets home. I like his idea.
"It's going to be boring without you." I mumble against his neck.
He groans and pulls me tighter—as if we weren't close enough—until I could feel the erratic beating of his heart against my chest. "Four hours. Just four hours."
I nod slightly as I trail kisses up from his neck and nibble on his ear, my breath, I realize, turning into short gasps. Slowly, his hand snakes inside the loose shirt I'm wearing and gently caresses my back, the heat of his palm sending shivers down my spine. His breaths have become as ragged and as sharp as mine, and a small smile plays on my lips. Sometimes I'm amazed at how I could make this boy, whose emotions are so hidden from everyone else, look so breathless and vulnerable.
"Three hours." He corrects himself, desperation and longing laced in his husky voice. "I'll tell them that I have other things—important things—to take care of after."
I gently bite his ear, only to lick the bitten spot. Aaron shudders and groans, his fingers firmly digging into my back. He curses.
"Two hours, goddamnit—two hours, love. Juliette—" He pulls my body away from his, much to my disappointment, only to lock his eyes with mine, searching for my approval. I can see the hunger and desire and passion burning in his green orbs. The way he looks at me makes my body feel as if I'm the only thing he could see, breathe, love right now that I want to drown in his eyes.
His right hand cups my jaw, his thumb caressing my burning cheeks and quickly pulls me into a greedy kiss. Then I'm forgetting what we were talking about and what I've been thinking and I can't even remember my own name anymore; every thought, every word, everything everything is now gone like smoke because all I can think all I can feel is his lips on mine and his body flush with mine as we're slowly melting into each other. My thoughts have scattered everywhere like dust and he and his lips are to blame.
Seconds later my body gives in and we both collapse on the bed, him on top of me, none of us pulling away. He brushes my bottom lip with his tongue, asking for entrance, and then I want to say that he doesn't need to ask, that I am already his—wholly and completely his—but then I think, If I do tell him then I'll have to break contact. So I don't and give him access. A moan escapes my lips as his tongue passionately dances with mine in a perfect rhythm. Every brush of his fingers on my skin feels so hot that I might burst into flames.
He's still so scared of touching me, he's still holding me like I'm glass. Like I might break again and I just don't know how he can think of that because I'm not breaking; I'm glowing under his touch. He is what holds me up and keeps me together, I realize. He is the reason I am still alive and he is the reason I am still here. Then a thought occurs to me that I will still be here, by his side, until he gets tired of me.
For what seems like hours we pull back, gasping for oxygen. Aaron collapses next to me, and I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes as I listen to his heartbeat. He strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head.
"Two hours." I could hear the smile in his voice. I pull myself up so that I'm facing him, but I am easily distracted by how handsome he is despite his disheveled state. He's still so so perfect in ways that make me think that God must have played a trick on this boy—made him so perfect on the outside, but made his whole life a living hell.
Aaron raises his hand in front of him and checks the time on his watch. "Shit," he mutters. "I'm late." He heaves himself up and off the bed and starts to fix his rumpled shirt. A giggle escapes my lips and he gives me a pointed look before breaking into a huge grin. Oh my God his dimples.
A moment later, he turns to me and says, "How do I look?"
"Like a guy who just had a steamy make out session—what? I was kidding! You look perfect, Aaron." I say. "But what if they ask you why you were late?"
He waves his hand nonchalantly, as if dismissing the thought of them asking. Of course, even if they still supervised him, he was still a man of higher ranks. "I'll tell them I got distracted and lost track of the time." He says anyway, then leans down and quickly gives me a peck on the lips. "Wish me luck."
"You don't need it." He really didn't.
Before he closes the door, he turns to me for the last time, love and understanding burning in his eyes as he says, "I know."
Half an hour after Aaron has left I decided that I should at least go out for a while and take a walk. I've spent nine days inside this house doing nothing but clean the house and adore Aaron. So I change into a pair of jeans, a black shirt—Aaron's shirt—and a black leather jacket (don't ask me how I got my undergarments. Okay, okay, he bought them. I really don't understand how a nineteen-year-old boy can just casually buy underwear. I might ask him about what happened one day).
Before I leave the house, I snatch the keys he left in the drawer and placed a note, just in case I won't be back before he arrives. But then I think, No, I wouldn't be out long. I shouldn't.
I stuff my hands inside the jacket's pockets as I take slow and careful steps outside. Somehow I thought today wouldn't be much of a difference being outside, I've been outside plenty of times. But the moment I see no one, I start to worry. No. This is good. This means I won't have to worry about touching anyone.
Because now that I'm out of the house, I'm no longer normal.
I keep walking as I tell myself that I'm being a paranoid...
Aaron's not here.
I keep walking
I can kill.
Walking walking running running
I'm a monster.
That's when everything dawns on me and slowly I start to break. My heart's beating erratically and I don't know where I am now I can't see anyone or anything still someone please I can't breathe-
"No," I mutter, clutching my chest. Calm down. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't do this. Aaron is—"
"Juliette?"
My heart stops at the sound of that familiar voice. I could feel the color draining from my face, then I'm thinking that this isn't real. I'm hallucinating, desperate to find someone to talk to me to prevent me from panic.
My thoughts are betraying me.
But then, as I slowly turn to where the voice came from, I know this isn't an illusion. My arms go limp as they fall to my sides. Then I say whisper his name, terror and surprise clouding my eyes.
"...Adam."
What is he doing here? I'm not particularly in a good mood to see him and this is just—
"Juliette," He says it like my name is so new to his lips; like he's never said it before. Then slowly walking towards me and I don't know what to do because my feet are glued to the ground. "It's you. You're alive. Where have you been?"
I take a tentative step back, but urge myself to stop. "Yeah," I choke out. "Here and there... How are you Adam?" He halts in front of me and gives me a look like I'm crazy. I really am.
"How am I ?" He scoffs. "We thought you were dead and you're asking me how I am? I've been losing my mind, Juliette. I don't know where you were and what happened and I just—I've been so lost."
When he slowly raises his hand out to touch me, I flinch and take a step back. He looks at me with concern and sadness before realizing what I was trying to do. "It's okay," He says reassuringly. "I've been training. I've gotten really good at it." But something about the way I looked at him must've discouraged him because he just sighed and dropped his arms to his side.
As silence consumes the space between us, I try to push down the thought of running away and going back to Aaron's house away from my head. I don't want Adam to see the sudden change in me—and know that he wasn't the one who caused it.
Everything feels wrong somehow. I know I should be happy, he knows it, but I'm not. I try to muster the courage to say something, anything, then he asks me
"Where have you been?"
I look at him distantly, my voice raw and emotionless as I say, "I've been staying in an abandoned house." Somehow what I am saying is true. No one used to live there, Aaron told me, until I got shot. His real house was closer to Sector 45.
"A house? You mean you've been hiding for nine days and seven hours and you never even bothered to look for us?" Whoa, seven hours?
"I'm sorry—"
"I've been insane without knowing where you are! Whether you're still alive. I even thought you were..." He trails off. Coughs. "Kenji and the others kept looking for you, Juliette."
"Where are they now?"
Adam rubs his forehead. "Omega Point," He mutters. "He decided to call off the war hours after we lost you." After he shot me, I want to add. After he almost killed me. Almost.
Then the silence returns. In that moment I take advantage and think. But then, what do I think about? Aaron will be back in an hour and I'm not sure if I'm comfortable about telling everyone where I was. Kenji's familiar with Aaron's house; he's seen me go there before, Adam with us.
I snap back into reality when Adam calls my name for the second time, I realize. He moves closer until we're only inches away, his hand twitching. He wants to hold me. But I don't... I don't want anyone to touch me.
"So what were you saying before? You said 'Aaron is—'" He adds when he notices the blank look on my face.
"Aaron's just... a dog." The man I love. "I was looking for him because he ran away." He was gone half an hour ago. "I found him inside abandoned house, see." We lived in his house for the past nine days. Oh, and, yeah, Anderson shot me nine days ago before he surrendered.
He nods slowly. "Do you want me to help find him before we go?"
Wait, what.
"Go?" I mouth. "Go where?"
"Back to Omega Point." But I don't want to. "Everyone's been looking for you, Juliette. We need you—I need you."
I want to say yes I do, I want to go with you and see everyone else, but something stops me. Warner comes into my mind, causing my heart to change its mind. He'll think you'll leave him again, it's telling me. He'll think that you don't love him anymore and you disappeared, or maybe even died. Do you want that, Juliette?
No, I don't.
"Aaron—" The words slip out of my tongue accidentally, making me cringe. Luckily, Adam interrupts me.
"We can look for him together if you want." There's a twinge of hope in the sound of his voice and his eyes. Hope that's trying not to fade away."But why look for someone else's dog? Is he really that important?"
I don't know I don't know because that dog doesn't exist, because Aaron's actually your brother, and yes, he's really that important. Suddenly, I had an idea: I could run back to the house. I can leave him a message and tell him I'm going to Omega Point. But if I Adam comes with me, he'll find out that I've been lying to him. We've been to his house once, and it wasn't the most welcoming visit—because the twisted man who is Aaron's father is also Adam's father. So I tell him
"Stay here."
He slightly tilts his head in surprise and confusion, his lips forming a little disappointed frown. The old Juliette would've desperately told him to come along. The old Juliette would've thought he looked so handsome doing that; I would've jumped into his arms and desperately kiss him. Now, I just want to laugh. That girl is gone now. And I don't want to see her again. She's too weak too helpless too lost and even if I've grown attached to her, I am glad she is gone.
"Stay here and wait for me. I'll look for Aaron. I'll be back in five minutes...and if I don't find him we're going. Okay?" Say okay say okay say okay.
"I..." Pause. Sigh. Nod. "Okay. I'll wait here."
I slightly bow my head as a sign of gratitude. "I'll be back." Turning on my heel, I start to run to where I came from. But when Adam calls my name, I stop mid-run, turning to the boy who is now too far for me to reach. He's always been too far for me to reach.
"You've changed a lot." Adam smiles at that, as if my 'change' was a good thing. The thought of me changing seems impossible. For the better or for the worse? I want to ask him. Maybe it's both.
My laughter sounds so foreign, so hollow and empty, just like when Anderson laughed when he heard about my death. I feel so horrible. But I guess he doesn't hear it, because he's already turning around and walking to one of the house's porch.
"I know," I whisper as I turn away again. No matter how much I want him to hear it, I feel as if these words are something I can never tell to anyone. It's a secret that only I know."You don't even know who I am anymore."
One minute and thirty-one seconds later, I'm facing the front door of the Anderson(-Warner) house. I feel like knocking, to see if anyone is there; maybe Aaron's already there and he's panicking right now, wondering where I went. Or maybe Anderson, sitting as he waits for my presence for the third time. I can see him smiling, I can see him angry, I can see him holding a gun.
But when I open the door, none of these happen. The house looks so empty and abandoned without anyone inhabiting it. My heart sinks at the thought of Aaron returning to his childhood house, only to find that the other person he's residing with is gone. It makes me wonder if he feelt the same emptiness as a child whenever he got home, which made me realize that I know nothing about the mysterious leader of Sector 45. The white walls make everything look so dull and colorless, unfitting to everything in this house. Your perspective of things change whenever you try to look at them in a different view. White white white.
I have at least three minutes more before I should go, so I rush upstairs and grab the pad paper and pen atop of Aaron's study table. My writing is too shaky; it's been so so long since I last wrote. So I dismiss the thought of writing in calligraphy and instead write in print letters. The pen feels like it's going to slip away from my hands as I start to write.
Warner
I cross it out.
Aaron,
I'm going to Omega Point with Adam. I saw him today while talking a walk outside, and he told me to go with him. Please understand, I want to see Kenji and the others. I want to know how they've been and how much has changed. I also heard that your father canceled the war. Did you know that?
I'll be back as soon as I can... And if I'm not yet home by four, try to find a way to contact me. I'll try to find a way to escape.
I
I cross the letter out. Too straight, I think. Too shaky. I write again and again and cross it out again and again until I have finally written in perfect calligraphy:
I love you.
Somehow there's something intimate about writing these words on paper. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe it's because I have confided myself in paper and ink that I started to think that these words I've written will come to life. That these things contain the emotion and the feelings of the writer. I want to believe it does.
When I get back to where I left Adam, I see him pacing around, a walkie-talkie on his hand. He's talking to someone. I couldn't make out what he's saying but his voice sounds neutral and emotionless that I am left wondering who he's talking to. He sees me and says something again to his friend before clicking it off.
"I'm ready." I tell him. "Let's go."
His eyes catch the gloves on my hands, smiles, and walks to the street that leads to Omega Point, me following behind.
Someone kill me.
This wasn't how this chapter was supposed to end.
I'm so sorry.
I'm a failure.
Pls leave a review. -goes to the corner and cries-
~KSPotato/the-warner-syndrome