XI

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There's a knock on my door.

I don't have the energy or the willpower to tell whoever it is to go away and leave me alone, so I just stay quietly in bed, and close my scratchy eyes to the darkness.

But every time I do close my eyes, I can see Jonah's face, contorted in pain as he melted before my eyes.

I open my eyes again and stare at the wall.

The knock echoes again, and then, in the utter silence, I can hear my door open, letting in watery grey light, then shut again.

I briefly wonder if they have come to kill me now, too, since I didn't show up for breakfast this morning. The thought sickens me and a tear gathers in the corner of my eye. Who would do it? Vessel himself? Three, with his gleeful and wild personality?

The footsteps are quiet, like the shoes had been slipped off so I barely hear the approach. If it's Two, I might be able to defend myself, but if it's Four-

"You were missed at breakfast," he says. I slide my eyes closed. I don't want to see him, speak to him, hear him. I don't want to even be near him, which is a damn shame because I quite like him. When I don't reply, he speaks again. "I've brought you something to eat."

He's quiet, like he is speaking to a frightened doe, which I suppose I am. I hate how nonchalant he is, as if he didn't have his hand around mine, forcing my own open to commit murder, his other arm wrapped around my waist like a lover would hold his beloved.

"If I don't eat, will I be next to burn?" I croak out. My throat aches, and my voice is scratchy as I say it.

"No, little bird," Four says, and I can tell he's moved into my bedroom a bit from where he speaks.

"If I refuse to leave my bed, will you light me on fire in it?"

I can feel his presence in front of me now, as he has rounded my bed. I don't even open my eyes as I flip to face the other side, my back facing him now. I hear him set down whatever meal is in his hands onto the table beside the bed, and feel his weight on the edge of the bed, sighing as he sits down beside me.

"Eat, little bird," Four says, his fingers sinking into my hair to rub at my scalp.

It ebbs away the desolation in me, though only a little. "And if I don't eat, will you force it down my throat? Will you cut my jaw away so that my mouth may never turn food away again?" I sob out.

His fingers don't falter, they only keep rubbing my scalp. "No little bird. I would only kneel down and beg you to eat." His fingers slide through my hair, and down my neck onto my back. His fingers are gentle now, the glaring opposite of his hand last night around mine, cracking my knuckles, forcing my hand to drop the torch. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and despite the layer of blankets I'm curled under, I shiver.

"Why did you make me do it?" I whisper, my voice shaking.

"You claimed mercy for him," Four replies, his fingers still brushing along my skin, pressing up and down my spine. "You allowed him to have a quick death. The punishment would have been to have him stay there, with no food, no water, no eyes, and no protection from the sun, until he perished."

I squeeze my eyes shut against the sheets, tears leaking from the corners. Four's hands slide up my back, and around my shoulder, until he touches my chin and untucks my face, turning me to look at him. My eyes flutter open, and I see he is hovering above me, one arm pressed into the mattress to stabilize himself.

"I won't tell you to not be saddened over death," he said, brushing away the wetness from my eyes. "You were brave, and benevolent, begging for mercy from Sleep on Jonah's behalf."

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