Colourless

Chapter Seventeen

Waiting outside of Laria's office, we spoke quietly amongst ourselves; intent on informing Laria of our plan to sneak into the city, no matter how irrational it may sound. Sitting around and doing nothing like they had been for many years, was clearly doing nothing; in fact, now it was doing more harm than good.

We weren't the best fighters, we knew that, but there were people here who were. They would be the muscle of our operation, and we were the negotiators; the unabashed youth that refused to stay quiet.

"Isn't this a nice surprise?" Laria greets with a confused smile, her office door swinging open.

"Well, what we're here for is certainly gonna be a surprise." Charles chuckles nervously and I take a deep breath.

"We'd like to formally make a request," I inform curtly, keeping my voice professional as if this was some sort of business transaction.

"Well, you all better come in then," Laria hums suspiciously, before she turns and walks back into her office — the rest of us quickly following in after her.

"This is going to sound crazy—"

"Because it is crazy," Lucille interjects and I short her a glare, clearing my throat.

"This morning, Ellie and I... overheard a conversation about the institute and about our safety, I suppose," I inform, my words spoken slowly to ensure that my intentions would be clear.

"Are you requesting bodyguards?" Laria asks and I hear Ellie scoff quietly.

"Practically the polar opposite," Lucille inhaled sharply and this time Charles speaks up,

"We would like to negotiate with the president, make him see sense," Charles states bluntly and Laria immediately chokes on the tea she was in the middle of drinking, "We want to lead a covert operation, with the institutes help, to confront the president."

"I'm sorry...what?!"

I flounder for an appropriate explanation, "Look... nothing will change if we all just sit around and do nothing. The institute is no longer a safe haven, we have to negotiate new terms."

Laria opens her mouth to speak, before pausing — sighing through her nose. "I suppose you're right," she mutters, sitting back in her opulent desk chair, "Change always happens, I can't ignore that anymore. And I also realize that you'll venture off, regardless of what I say."

Ellie sighs dejectedly, "I was kind of hoping you'd say no."

"I want you to realize, however, that you aren't soldiers," Laria clears her throat, "You'll need a team to do the heavy lifting... let me talk with my people, you all need to put your diplomatic facades on; starting now."

***

Approaching my designated bedroom, I halt suspiciously as I hear pacing footsteps inside. Unlocking the door, I wield my key like a small dagger — curled secured into my fist. Pushing open the door, I prepare to fight, when I am suddenly met by Malik's confused expression.

"Oh—" I smile sheepishly, tucking my key into my pocket— "What are you... wait, how the hell did you get in here?"

"Are you insane?!" Malik yells, tugging me further into my own room before closing the door behind me.

Crossing my room to lift the decorative curtains, I narrow my eyes. "Houdini," I grumble, eyeing Malik as I continue to debate just how he had gotten in.

"You're insane if you think that you and your little friends can just waltz into the city and they'll just hear you out," Malik exclaims, his tone growing mocking. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"Look, Malik, I know it's not an amazing plan. It's a little bit foolish... idealistic and it probably isn't going to work, but how long are we going to just sit here saying how awful the world is and yet nobody ever goes and does anything? We're just running and hiding, and even the comfort here isn't going to last long.

"You know they found a body outside our front door step, right? That's a warning. They know where we are, Malik."

He visibly tenses, "You don't know how many people have tried to do exactly what you're trying to do! They were years and leagues above your pathetic little fighting skills, and they still failed."

He balled his fists as I sigh; I can't disagree with him there. "Would you like a drink?" I offer weakly, "Vodka? Something strong?"

"Pearl, come on. This is crazy." He was almost yelling now.

"OK. That aggression is not something that should mix with alcohol. How about tea? Earl Grey? Chamomile?"

"Will you just listen to me Pearl?" Malik pleads, his hands resting on my shoulders. "Don't do that thing where shit gets serious and you use inappropriate humour to distract yourself from the confrontation of your issues."

"Woah, jeez, what are you? A shrink?" Wow, I do kind of do that. "Look, you said people have done this before, right? What makes them different to me, huh?"

"Pearl, come on," Malik sighs, "You know it's different. I... care about you. We've been practically glued to each other for months, and I think I'd go insane if you just vanished." Before I could reply, Malik sighed once more — his warm, calloused hands sliding down my arms — and then he was gone; retreating to the hall without another word.

***

After my 'argument' with Malik that left me even more confused about our friendship, I had been called over the intercoms to report to the weapons room which is where I had instantly a knife thrown at my head — courtesy of Charles. It gave me a fright but I assumed it was a fake knife and he was trying to gaslight me, so I stood my ground and it thunked into wall beside my head; embedding itself deeply into the wall.

I look at the weapon, and then at Charles.

"Charles!" I stare at him in shock, gesturing between him and the knife, "The heck?"

'Charles is making progress,' my ass. He missed. Thankfully.

Charles' widened eyes, however, confused me and the brunet then gestures wearily to my face. Coming up to feel my cheek, I almost shriek in horror as I inspect the thick, water-like substance that spilled from my skin. I glared as I met Charles' eyes. "Run."