Misfits (#2)

20.

Day five of Mission Isolation.
I'm itching to leave. The gardens have become boring and I've traipsed through the halls so many times that even Leia got fed up.

It's just this stupid cut. It won't heal faster and though my eye has recovered enough for me to be able to cover it with makeup, the cut's still gnarly looking. I hope I don't have a scar but by the looks of it, I will.

I stand in my mirror and run my fingers over it, though its still sensitive to the touch. Red and ugly looking. I've never been much too insecure about my face. More my gangly arms and legs but I feel disgusting. Waves of self-consciousness pass over me every so often.

I need to leave this house. This manor. It's slowly starting to feel like the walls are closing in on me and mom's in a bad mood today.

It's Friday. Everest's soccer game has already started now that its six pm and the guilty feeling begins to settle in. I'm sure he hasn't noticed that I'm not there but I said I'd be there. I hate not keeping my word.

I can't be seen by him, though. Not yet, at least. It makes my stomach sink so I walk out of my bathroom and back into my room, sitting on the edge of my bed. My VHS tapes are scattered all over my comforter. I was doodling on the little labels.

I pick at my nails. I wish I could be there. They always have such a nice spirit to them, especially evening games. And honestly, I just want to see Everest after talking to him most nights.

There's a few knocks to the door before it opens and Sage enters, standing almost as tall as the doorframe. He's clad in a suit.

"Hi." I smile as he walks over, "Are you going somewhere?"

"Business meeting." He adjusts the cuffs of his suit but as he does, one of the cufflinks pop off and fall to the ground. I reach for it and stand up.

Notable mention: Sage is a mountain. He stands high at 6'5 and I'm 5'5. He's always been ridiculously tall so right now, I'm practically at his stomach. I take his wrist and clip the cufflink for him.

I notice his mannerisms. He pulls at his tie like it's choking him and can't seem to keep his hand still.

"What are you nervous about?" I ask him and he looks down to me, caught off guard, "What?" I smile, "In case you forgot, I know you just as well as you know me."

"I don't get nervous." He asserts.

"Uh huh. And I'm the tooth fairy." I muse, gesturing a dramatic hand to my bed, "Sit, dear brother."

He just looks down at me, that harsh natural expression on his face. After a few moments, he lowers himself and then sits on the edge of the bed.

"Is it a big meeting?" I ask as I sit by him. He nods once, "I'm sure you'll do great."

His lips tip up a little at that, "I know I will. But nerves are the bane of my fucking existence. I could feel as confident as I like and they'll still eat at me."

I know. He's poised and strong and has such a self assured manner but Sage gets nervous over the slightest things. It's always been that way. He used to have severe stage fright.

"How's your cheek?" He averts the topic, looking at me.

"I'm digging it." I lift my chin, "Kinda like Kylo Ren. But without the eye part, which is unfortunate. That's the coolest part."

He looks at me with the most bored expression I think I've ever seen.

I smile sheepishly, "It's fine."

"I'm glad." He shifts slightly, "Just- if anything like that happens again, Vy, you tell me. Do you understand? You always tell me."

I swallow, nodding. He nods back and then lifts himself up but I stand too, "Wait."