manipulate // enoch o'connor

06 // sick

  ENOCH WOKE UP SICK. In the moment he opened his eyes, he felt horrendously terrible. His body felt heavier than usual. Miss Peregrine had come with the eldest of the peculiars (Emma, Jacob, Olive and Claire) and they have concluded that he had to rest for the whole day, "Someone must keep watch of Mister O'Connor," Miss Peregrine told them, "He needs assistance and mostly a guardian."

"I'm fine," Enoch said groggily, coughing after, "This is just the effect of my overworking."

"I'll do it, Miss," Olive volunteered, glancing at him, and biting her lip, "I would be very happy to help Enoch."

"Happy to see me perish, I hope?" Enoch rolled his eyes, "Well, I don't want you near me nor watch over me. I'm not apologizing."

Olive's smile turned into a frown. She gave him one last look before she left the room. "Well then, I suppose Miss Prescott would be the one to be here with you. No questions. Get well, Mister O'Connor." Miss Peregrine spoke, and she left with Emma and Jacob.

Clara and Enoch looked at each other's eyes. Enoch noticed how Clara's eyes looked quite amazingly while the reflection of light danced through it. He was able to shake off the thought when Clara spoke;  "Overworking? What have you been doing?" She asked.

"Finding ways to murder you and act as if you only ran away." Enoch said monotonously, coughing after, "God! Stupid disease!" It was an obvious lie. He doesn't have any energy to be playing his pet peeves with a stranger.

"I'll get you some water," Clara said, and before Enoch could speak, she added, "And no, I'm not going to spike it with poison. I don't want you dead, O'Connor. Who would have to raise the dead by then?" She smirked, and left.

✧ ✧ ✧

  CLARA CAME BACK WITH A TRAY ON HER HANDS. The tray had a bowl, a spoon, a glass and a pitcher of water. She placed it onto his nightstand, taking the chair from his working desk and placing it beside his bed and sitting on it. Enoch was leaning onto his bed's headboard, his blanket covered on top of him.

"Sorry I was gone for a bit long than expected. Uh, Olive suggested I bring you soup. She said to tell you that she dearly hopes you'll be better." Enoch's face wrinkled in disgust.

"You didn't poison it but I fucking bet she did." Enoch groaned, "Can I get a glass of water like you were supposed to get me?" Clara handed him a glass almost full of water. He drunk it, giving the glass back to Clara after.

"Were you always this rude?" Enoch sniffled a laugh. He gave Clara a glare, "Were you always this nosy? Whatever I am, or however I am, deal with it." He huffed.

"I was just asking." Clara shrugged, "Whatever. I got chores. I'm leaving." She stood up, and walked away. Annoyed, Enoch called her, "Prescott! You fucking bitch--"

The Clara who walked away vanished. He glanced beside him, and Clara was still in the seat, "Always fooled by me, O'Connor." She laughed, "My chores are handled by the other peculiars. My only chore is to get you better." 

"So full of yourself," Enoch rolled his eyes. Clara shook her head while smiling.

Clara placed a basin on his bed, damping a face towel on it. She was going to wipe it onto Enoch's arm, but he pulled his arm away, "Where the hell did that came from?" 

"The water came from the well. I placed this under your bed when you fell asleep." 

"I didn't?" Enoch defended himself, "Whatever. Don't touch me."

"You can't do this by yourself, you know?" Clara reasoned.

"Just, not now." Enoch said. Then Clara put away the basin. She sat back to the chair. "What are you gonna do now, Prescott? Bore me to my death? Trick me some more?" 

"Let's just get to know each other more." Enoch raised an eyebrow, "I mean. Why not?"

"I don't want to get to know you." 

"Don't you really?" Clara asked him, "Because I can get Miss Peregrine to change her mind, and let Olive be here with you. I know you despise her."

Enoch sighed in defeat, "I'm gonna get you back for this," He said before saying, "Fine."