Dreamers // Enoch O'Connor

Chapter 15: 단절

단절 (danjeol) - Korean for break
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Two days.

It had been two whole days that Enoch was ignoring me.

Completely avoiding me and refusing to talk to me.

Brushing past my shoulder, almost making me fall every time.

I had lost my best friend.

And it was destroying me inside.

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I walked down the hallway, heading towards the staircase, going down to breakfast.

Upon entering the kitchen to help Miss. Peregrine set the table, I saw Enoch carrying three large plates with food in his two arms, balancing one of the plates inside the crook of his elbow.

"Do you need help with that?" I quickly asked, praying he was going to say even one word to me.

He just grunted, pushing past me towards the dining room, leaving me stunned.

I shook it off, bringing the rest of the food to the dining room before taking my seat next to Victor.

And that's when I noticed it.

Enoch had switched places with Bronwyn so he was now sitting next to Victor and not me.

I huffed out a breath, beginning to eat my food as Victor looked at the two of us cluelessly, wondering why the so called 'best friends' were avoiding each other.

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I sat on the living room sofa, a book in my hands, my legs sprawled in front of me.

The small footsteps of the children ran around the house, their small screams behind every corner.

Before I could process what was happening, a large arm picked up my legs, sitting down on the sofa before placing my legs in their lap.

Victor Bruntley.

I smiled at him, placing the leather bookmark in my hardback.

"What's up?" I asked.

"The sky," he responded, smirking.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I giggled lightly.

"I need your advice," he said, his features turning ever so slightly serious.

"Shoot."

"So let's say, hypothetically, that I liked a girl. And, hypothetically, I'm not sure if she likes me back. What do I do to find out? Or, rather, how do I ask her out?" He stuttered out, cheeks blushing.

"Hypothetically?" I giggled.

"Hypothetically," he nodded, grinning.

"Either just tell her, or talk to her friends and find out. My biggest suggestion is doing small gestures so she gets the hint. Get her some flowers, ask her to go on a walk, pick a book you think she would like. Y'know, stuff like that."

He nodded, smiling, the gears in his head turning, processing, as he made a plan of what to do.

"Thanks Ash," he sighed, standing up and placing my legs down before bending down again to give me a big hug, "you're the best."

And then, Enoch O' Connor of all people entered the room, jars filled with hearts in his arms.

He looked at us, a scowl overcoming his feature.

"Sorry, hope I didn't interrupt a moment here," he muttered sarcastically.

I glared at him. After ignoring me for 48 hours, not speaking to me, pushing me, closing me off, he had the nerve to come all sarcastic and grumpy at me.

"Can we talk?" I asked him, trying not to stir anything up. Boy did I hate arguments.

"Um, let me think about it," he replied, "No."

Victor slowly stood up, mumbling a small, "I'll talk to you later, Ash," before abandoning the room and leaving me alone with the grumpy dead riser.

"Enoch, please I just want to tal-"

"You can go ahead and marry Victor for all I care. I wouldn't want to be interrupting your little tea party anyway," he said, pronouncing every word perfectly, looking me dead in the eyes.

I felt my heart shatter against the floor, breaking into a million different pieces of sharp glass.

My best friend had managed to break me with just those words.

Enoch walked up the stairs without a second glance back.

But if one had looked, and I mean really looked, you would have seen a small look of regret.

His heart ached at the words he uttered to the girl he loved ever so dearly.

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I sat in the dining room, the curtains covering the windows and cascading shadows of darkness over my body.

My shoes tapped against the floorboard, my fingers drumming against the wooden table as I stared into the abyss.

And then a hand was waved in front of my face and I fell out of my trance, welcomed with the warm face of Victor Bruntley.

"You good?" he asked. He seemed to have pulled a chair up next to me, his face inches away from mine.

I nodded, lowering gaze towards nothing, really.

"What's up with you and O' Connor?" He asked, attempting to meet my gaze and failing.

I shrugged. "Don't ask me. That boy has a mind of his own."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"He's jealous, you know?"

I finally looked at him, and I mean really looked at him.

"Why would he be jealous?" I asked.

"Cause he cares about you. A lot."

I snorted, "Of course he does."

"Ash I'm serious," the Bruntley boy replied, an honest expression on his face, "He's never talked to someone as much as he's talked to you. I just think he's scared, I think this is all new to him, someone actually paying attention to him and really caring about him like you do. He's grumpy and stubborn because he's Enoch. But it's the Enoch we all know and love."

He was right.

It was Enoch.

It was the boy I had grown to care about so much. My best friend.

It was Enoch.

"I'll talk to him," I said, standing up and straightening my dress.

"Thanks Vic," I said, smiling.

And he smiled back. 

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A/N:
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