Night

Ch. 4

Alx's P.O.V

Entering the room, I see her. She's on her haunches picking up the broken pieces of plats and glass. Her thinner frame angers me. Why does it anger me?

I walk closer to her. Her head snapping in my direction, she franticly shakes her hands; telling me not to come closer. I was about to snap at her. But as I look down, I see that I'm about to step on a piece of glass. I am wearing shoes, but it would still hurt. That, and me stepping on it would make it harder to clean up. That's probably what's she's more concerned about.

"You put those down and stand over there. I'll pick up the rest. I can heal faster than you can."

She reluctantly does as asked. Sitting on the bed, she stares at the wall. She seems so empty. Why?

After picking up all the pieces, I throw them in the bin. Moving the chair closer to the bed, I sit down and look at her. I don't know why but I want to be at her side. Why would I want that?

'Because-'

'Not now, Eric.'

Her eyes slowly move away from whatever they were looking at in the distance and make their way to me. She quickly looks me up and down, almost questionably. She moves from her spot in the middle of the bed and to the far corner of it and leans on the wall. Putting as much space between herself and I. Eric is a little upset about this. I won't bother to ask why. He's not making any sense these days.

In most circumstances, her actions would have been ones of fear. But she's not scared. Now that I think of it, I've never sensed any fear from her. Not when she was clinging to her brother while being torn to shreds. Not when she hid in the closet. Not even when she curled up into a ball. Why do such things if you weren't scared? She just sits there. As if she's waiting for me to leave. So, I just sit here and continue to watch her.
-
It's been about ten minutes if not more. And she's still sitting there. Hasn't moved. Hasn't made a sound. Other than her heartbeat and breathing; I would be quite concerned if I couldn't hear that.

I get up and leave the room. She still doesn't move. I make my way to the kitchen and make her some oats. Walking back to her room I grab a notebook and pen as I pass them. I have a feeling that I might need them.

Entering the room, I see that she still hasn't moved. She still looks like she's waiting. She pays no mind to me as I walk past her to the small table and place the oats down. However, when I place the notebook and pen down, she looks at me then at the table. Where she then tilts her head before returning to her original position.

Scanning her once more my eyes fall on the claw marks I left on her arm. I dislike the fact that I hurt her. Not only Eric, but I dislike the fact that I hurt her.

"Sorry about that." Pointing at her arm.

She looks at me briefly then looks to her arm. She studies the wound. Looking back to me she shrugs her shoulders and returns to her position once more. Unbothered by it.

"There are some oats here for you. You're going to eat them. And you're going to talk."

She merely gives me a death stare. This angers me but I must remember that she is not a wolf. She does not live by the same rules we do. I must have patience. Walking up to her, I give her the bowl. Without resistance she takes it and the spoon.

So, she's willing to eat. But isn't willing to talk. Strange.

Digging the spoon into the oats, she lifts a generous spoon full to her mouth. Once in her mouth, she chews slowly. Not in the way one would if they were trying to savour the taste. No. She chewed it slowly like one would if they were giving something truly disgusting but still ate it to be polite. She swallows. She's sad? I can feel her sadness? She almost looks like she's about to cry. What could make her so sad? She starts banging the back of her head on the wall. Not hard but not soft either. It angers Eric. It both angers and concerns me. I'm about to tell her off. But she stops. Looking at the ceiling, she sighs.