His Sour Lemon #2.1

Part 34: The Right Date

CHAPTER 34: The Right Date

July, 2033.
Outskirts of New York City, America.
Fitzgerald Institute for Troubled Youth.

"If you don't move, he dies." There stood a guard, face pulled in a scowl with a beaten boy in front of me. Escaping was a dream away from a nightmare. Trying it had consequences as deadly as this one, I drop the crowbar and make Talon do the same. It was dark, cold and windy, the storm brewed like a hurricane outside and it was the best distraction, until one little boy wanted his freedom too, but like the scampering of a mouse in a wall, a cat can always sniff it out. The cat sniffed him out and the larger rodents were caught in the crossfire. My blood pounded as I raise my hands in surrender.

"Let him go." I tell the guard, my voice wary and my heart cautious.

BANG!

Elizabeth steps forward as blood splatters over me.

The boy drops to the floor, "Your punishment has now been fulfilled. Take Talon to the pits ." She orders.

I drop to my knees, staring at the face of the now unrecognisable child. I close my eyes at the tears.

NO!

NO!

NO!

*********

August 10th, 2042.
London, United Kingdom.
London Airports.

I knew the snow like the back of my hand. The crystal pieces of cloud falling from the sky. They formed in needles and dendrites. Layer upon layer over ever green leave, every piece of emerald strands of grass, the wood too. Freezing it over, suffocating each tree with every needle that crackles against it. Days. She spent days in her room or in the library and I'd linger. Like the ice forming around the trees, I'd hide in a corner, so long as I had the view of her, silent. Like a child behind bars, staring at his golden Angel, just waiting for her to give him the keys to open that door, and let him out. To hug him in ways he's always wanted. I fucking forgot that warmth she has and it was straining on. This was worse than being strung by the rope for too long, considering she put a dagger to it and sliced our rope in half, cutting me in the process.

I found the key in the library, one day, one cold day...and I stepped in.

She sat by the round window with a book, "Are you just going to stand there and stare?" I almost jolt at her voice, flinching at the sudden sound of it. I grab a desk chair and step by step, I wait for her to run from me. I wait for her to leave.

"You came out of your room?" I murmur.

She shrugs, still staring at the page, "It's not healthy to just sit there and think up a way to talk to you, Edmund. You punched my brother just because he mentioned another man's name. It isn't about whether you and I are worthy of each other, it's about trusting each other, I just don't understand why you brought up more lies about your parents. I found out and I didn't look at you differently, only when I found out about your group, it was..." I close my eyes for a long second, before sitting down, watching her.

"I'm sorry about punching your brother," I apologise, it wasn't the best option, even while her brother tried to insert many options into her head, I mean-fuck, it still made me mad beyond belief. I take a deep breath when she says nothing and I continue. She was listening, at least.

"I lied because I was ashamed, Melanie. It's as simple as that, but there's nothing simple or good about lying to you. I hadn't gotten so practiced with it that the instinct to continue with that story was natural, it shouldn't have been like that with you. You were so upset the first time you found out part of the lie, I was afraid that if I went all the way and told you of every single beating I went through as a child, you would leave me in fear that my past dictates my person now. It doesn't, lemon. I would never try to hurt you, I shouldn't have done that to your brother, but it's been a long time coming with him. You weren't there all those weeks I had to pull answers about your whereabouts." She lets me move closer, I reach for her hand and it hurt to feel her skin again, natural body heat, I press a kiss to the back of her hand.