Colourless Skies

49. Anchored Feelings

He walked towards her wilting form slowly, his eyes an obliterating deep shade of red as he put forward another foot, scaring her out of her damned wits. Leah racked her brain for answers; what had she done wrong now, what was it to have enraged Alex so much? 

The useless thoughts slipped through her head when she hit the wall behind her, signalling the end of her meagre attempt at escape. She was trapped.

A violent shiver ventured through her body once Alex stepped too close, until she could almost feel her anger pulsing around herself. She hated it. She felt like dying.

"A-A-Alex-"

Her stuttering was immediately cut off as he lunged for her neck, with his cold fingers, tightening his hold by every second on the delicate skin of her neck.

"Who told you..", he started, his breath quickening with every word. "That you could skip your meals?"

"I give you everything I can."  His grip harshened.

"And this is how you repay me. By starving yourself?"

"Are you.. testing my limits?"

Leah struggled with breathing. His sharp nails dug into her flesh and the blaring amber in his eyes bore into hers. She tried to push his hand away, but it was a futile effort, he was too powerful for her, all the more when she was loosing oxygen rapidly.

"I n-never do anything.. anything right, d-do I?"

His hand let go of her reddened neck and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

Seeing her half dead body on the ground was when he realised his pent up opaque anger meant for Sebastian had once again rained down on Leah. He was out of control, but he couldn't stop himself, he could only stare in horror at the aftermaths that ensued after his actions. He could only reside in sorrow.

Alex left Leah alone, letting misery descend upon both of them, on her when she would awaken in agony from her fall, and on him when his numbed senses awakened and realised what he had done.

Upon coming round her muscle-aching sleep, the first thing she felt was the incredibly painful itch in her throat, it was so dry that swallowing became a difficult sport. Slowly, she got up; mustering all the strength she had and channeling it into her hands to force her up. It was torture but she had to move on, from both the agony and the trauma.

Gulping down the water hungrily sitting at the edge of her bedside table, she questioned so many things. He had been so caring back in the hospital, he had brightened her arduously dull life by taking her to the only beach she had ever seen in her entire life. Why in the world would he get so agitated over such a scant issue as a meal? What, who had fuelled his anger to this extent, and why was she the one who had to suffer through it every time?

But even through all of this, the thought of why had she said what she had said to him never wavered away, haunting her like a ghost.

Cold water running down her dry throat jutted a sigh of relief she was so desperate to feel. Her eyes fell upon the phone besides jug, and in a state of unbroken faze, she picked it up, and dialled the only number she could at the moment.

"Jayrick speaking." 

Waves of comfort radiated through her at hearing his voice, even if it was the polite serious tone he used with everyone.  It made her eyes well up with unspoken words.