(Mal)
It wasn't long after Evie had punched her friend that Ben had ended the dance, obvious frustration and worry lingering in his eyes when escorting Mal back to the dorm building. Though Mal hated to admit it, she had actually enjoyed the dance; well, the end of it that is. She had always suspected that Evie wasn't a girl to mess with, but she had never gone as far to wonder what kind of anger was trapped within the beauty. Turns out, the beauty was just the shell, and there was a lot more hiding underneath than Mal would have ever expected.
Blowing out a heavy breath, Mal dropped herself into one of the chairs accompanying the table in the middle of the room, eyes too often flickering toward the door, waiting for it to open and reveal a figure of blue. She tried to shove away the desire to see the girl, to question her about tonight's events and the words spoken that she didn't understand. One word in particular, she couldn't even begin to understand. You know you shouldn't date someone your friends don't trust. She may have snuck around in the shadows listening her entire life, but she had never once heard that word before Carlos had told her about the dance, and she found herself struggling to find even a possible explanation for the way Jay had used it; that's why she needed Evie, to explain it to her. She recalled the sentences around that one, remembered how Evie had brought up the thought of Jay and the dirty-blonde girl Mal always saw him with, the one he had brought to the dance with him. All she could come up with was the way the two acted together, how they were always touching in some way and how they often kissed. Could that be what 'dating' means? She had no idea, but she doubted it. There was no way Evie wanted that with her. Amusing to think a Princess would ever want anything less than a pampered Prince. Her heartbeat increased as she thought about Evie wanting that kind of relationship from her, the increase not enough to make her question what was happening, but just enough for it to not slip her notice.
After an hour passed without anyone arriving she finally pushed herself from the chair and moved over to the window, arms crossing as she scanned the area of the field leading to the woods. When she realized she was scanning for any sign of trouble her heart abruptly halted. What if Evie hasn't returned because…? Mal chewed on the inside of her lip until she tasted blood, her ears seeming to pound as she thought about the possibility. God, I'm a terrible fucking bodyguard. Fighting the urge to put her hand through the glass she turned and quickly made her way to the door, closing her fingers around the handle and jerking it open, ready to ignite her magic in search of the girl. She stopped when the warmth registered through the frozen state of her veins.
With a quick lift of her head she met red-brown eyes, hand still gripping the handle, heartbeat accelerating. She meant to move out of the way, meant to let the girl into the room, but she couldn't seem to command her muscles as she found herself almost hopelessly locked into the girl's stare. Her knuckles turned white against the handle as her grip tightened, and she finally managed to force herself to step aside, keeping her eyes on the blue-haired girl as she immediately took advantage of the newly opened space to enter the room; but she didn't stop there. Mal watched as Evie moved quickly over to her dresser and pulled out a few items, completely ignoring her presence as she slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. Okay, Mal thought, slowly and quietly shutting the main door to their room; that was strange.
"I thought you were leaving."
Having not known she was too caught up in her thoughts Mal whirled around at the sound of the girl's voice, meaning to face her. However, Evie moved too quickly for her, not giving her time to face her as she moved around the room, cleaning a few things before lowering herself to sit on the edge of her bed as she opened her bedside drawer. What's wrong with her? She wanted to not care, she really wished the question wasn't burning her tongue, but it was as if something was possessing her.
"Is something wrong?" The words burned through her tongue as they formed, and she hated herself for not having the strength to stop them.
However, something sank in her stomach when she received no response. Is there something wrong with her? Subconsciously, Mal took several small steps forward before she realized what she was doing and stopped herself from getting any closer. Indescribable feelings tugged on her stomach as she swirled her bottom lip between her teeth, studying the blue-haired girl's profile in search of what could possibly be wrong. I hate this connection, she thought as the feelings swirling around her stomach quickly became unpleasant, well aware that they were only present because of the emotions running thick through Evie.
Telling herself that the night would be more pleasant if Evie wasn't talking to her, Mal moved away from the door and over to her own bed, dropping onto the soft mattress. Despite that fact, her gaze lingered on the girl across the room, watching, waiting, for her features to give something away about what she was thinking. God, look at you, Mal shook her head in disappointment at herself; you're worrying about a fashion-obsessed princess. She buried her teeth deep into her lip when she discovered the sharp tug inside her chest when she spoke the royal title with disgust, scolding herself for even thinking about believing it to be anything more than a ridiculous, demeaning to others, word, simply because it belonged to the girl sitting across from her.
Wanting to distract herself, she forcibly tore her gaze away from her beautiful roommate and reached underneath her pillow to grab hold of her book, which she had quickly stashed there before the dance. Not exactly knowing what she was doing she flipped mindlessly through the pages, reading the names of each spell with uncharacteristic disinterest. Before she even knew what she was doing green eyes flickered upward, coming to rest on the room's other occupant. A low growl traveled the length of her throat when she realized she was seemingly incapable of looking away from the girl for longer than five minutes.
When Evie made a sudden move, Mal – in panic – dropped her gaze back to the page opened in front of her, praying that she hadn't been caught staring; something told her the girl had seen her. However, she second-guessed herself when the silence between them only spread. If she had caught me staring she would have said something, she always does. Chancing another glance at the girl she followed her movements as she made her way over to the overly-large window, watching curiously as she gracefully sat on the large, cushioned windowsill, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them loosely.
After a while, she couldn't help it. "Something interesting out there?"
Silence.
A heavy breath broke passed her lips when she threw herself back into her pillows. Why isn't she talking to me? She's always way too excited to talk to me, so what's different about tonight? Angrily, she tossed her spell-book to the end of her bed, not caring about the sound of ripping pages. Why do I care? She shook her head and blew out another breath, I don't. I don't care whether she talks to me, or not. I don't care about her.
But still. "Did I do something to you?"
Evie shifted, but said nothing.
I should have known. A quiet whisper caught her attention the very second it revealed itself, the voice unrecognizable, the words indecipherable, and figuring it was only another affect from the connection between them she shoved the faint whisper from her mind, shutting it out with her own invisible words as she thought about the scene that had unfold before the dance. She's probably mad about the way I treated her. The way I insulted her little prince.
"Do you want me to apologize for making fun of your little prince?" Mal questioned, scrunching her nose in disgust at both how desperate she seemed for Evie's attention and the title. "Is that what you're on about?"
More silence.
The quiet whisper grew in volume, quickly becoming a continuous pestering, and though it remained impossible to decode, Mal felt a strange familiarity from it. Shaking her head, she rolled onto her side, tucking her arm under her pillow and allowing her head to sink into the soft material. However, after what felt like hours to Mal – though it was only a few minutes in actuality – the irking voice failed to fade, even though the majority of her mind was focused on her swirling thoughts of Evie.
As if someone else entirely was controlling her she pushed into a sitting position and slid her feet to the floor to stand, her legs carrying her over to the window Evie sat quietly in front of. What am I even doing? Somehow, she knew her mind wouldn't be convinced into doing something else, and so she lowered herself onto the cushioned windowsill in front of the other girl, crossing her legs underneath her and guiding her gaze out the window. You need to just go to sleep, she doesn't want to talk to you. She doesn't want your company. With a heavy sigh, she leaned the side of her head against the window and closed her eyes, not understanding why she was sitting with the girl. However, despite knowing she should just leave the room entirely, she couldn't bring herself to move away from Evie, her legs seemingly made of concrete and impossible to lift.
The fact that the voice still whispered somewhere near her ear pushed her to let words roll off her tongue again, despite everything inside her warning her not to say another word. "Who's Audrey?"
She wasn't an idiot, she had pieced together that the small dirty-blonde often on Jay's arm was Audrey, but she was desperate to get Evie to talk to her; it sickened her just how desperate she seemed, especially considering it was always the opposite.
"Someone you don't want to meet," Evie finally spoke, though her voice held little emotion.
"I thought I was the one people didn't want to meet?" Mal knew she was trying too hard to get the girl to laugh, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She kept her eyes shut tightly, praying that things would abruptly change.
"Well," Evie breathed the word as a light laugh.
Mal tried to ignore the painful way her heart tugged at the girl's words. Does she mean…? Again, she told herself, oh well, it's not like I care about what she thinks of me. She added; Why should I care if she wishes she hadn't met me? However, the pain didn't ease, instead settling to a dull ache.
The heated feeling of the girl's stare burned her face, and instead of listening to herself and keeping her eyes closed she lifted her eyelids to find red-brown eyes studying her intently, the look present in the unique color giving her the feeling that Evie didn't understand her. Stop trying, Princess, Mal thought, the corners of her mouth quirking into a small smile; you'll never understand me. There was a question forming in her mind, a question she would never dare let slip passed her lips, a question she shouldn't even want to know the answer to, one she shouldn't care about the answer to. Do you wish you never met me? Though she told herself she couldn't care less about the answer to that question she couldn't banish it from her head.
She felt she got the answer to her question when their eye-contact was severed, Evie tearing her gaze away to bring it back to the outside world. Her chest squeezed, and she finally lost the strength to keep trying as her body burned. Pulling her legs from underneath her body she pushed herself to her feet, glancing at the blue-haired girl once more before a sigh escaped her lips.
"Got it," Mal whispered, forcing her legs to carry her back over to her bed.
Crawling back onto her bed she let her body fall into the mattress, her mind holding so many thoughts that her head began pounding relentlessly. That was when the quiet whisper that had been plaguing her since Evie had made an appearance grew too loud for her to ignore, and she dreadfully realized why it had seemed so familiar minutes ago.
Weak. Useless. Hopeless. Forgotten. Unloved.
She shook her head, doing as she always did and shoving the words from her mind. However, her usual salvation didn't work this time, and she only found the words continuing to echo in the front of her mind, too close for her to ignore, too far for her hands which reached to shove them away.
Weak. Useless. Hopeless. Forgotten. Unloved.
When her own words failed to end the reign of the pestering voice a second time, she closed her fingers around the pillow above her and curled the material around her head, pressing into her ears as if that would silence the words. Shut up! Shut up! I am not weak, or useless, or hopeless, or… or forgot… but she couldn't finish. All she could do was think of her mother, of how she had left her so easily; did she think of her? She could think only of Evie, of how she sat over in the windowsill, ignoring her; did she feel for her pain?
And it was then that she realized the words weren't going away this time.
Weak. Useless. Hopeless. Forgotten. Unloved.
The voice was there to stay.