Chapter 9

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Isla's POV

"Hold still you dimwit," I hissed, tying a hair-tie around Saskia's hair. All 5 of us were all crammed into Saskia's bathroom, excluding Elliot. I had no idea where that guy went half the time. Yann and Mathieu insisted on watching me cut Saskia's hair. 

"I can't sit in one spot for so long," Saskia whined, dropping her shoulders. 

"Oh well I can't cut in a straight line then," I snapped back, holding the scissors to her hair. She paled and slumped in her seat, nodding quickly. I was about to make the first cut when Saskia shrieked, making me drop the scissors. 

"For fuck's sake!" I yelped, feeling my heart pounding. I thought something bad happened. Yann snickered, holding his phone up. Is he seriously recording this? Mathieu had a teasing smile on his face as he looked at Saskia. A split second later, the door to my room opened slightly. 

"Est-ce que tout va bien? (is everything alright?)" Elliot asked, popping his head into my room. 

"Ouais on va bien (yeah we're good)," I called back. I heard his footsteps come towards the bathroom before he appeared in the doorway. 

"You can't cut it that short! I'll look like a boy!" Saskia shrieked. 

"You're hair is practically dead anyway," I muttered under my breath. Yann snorted from behind me and I sent him a sly grin. With one swift cut, I had chopped off 5 inches of Saskia's blonde hair. She stared at it as it lay on the floor. 

"Oh my gosh," she whispered in shock. 

"Stop being a drama queen," Linette said, finally looking up from her phone. She was busy trying to fill out an online form on the tiny screen of her phone. 

"I know right," I agreed, straightening the edges of her hair after cutting the other ponytail. It was a cute look on her, just 2 inches or so below her shoulders. 

"Look," I grinned spinning her around. She stared at herself in the mirror, running her fingers through it. She parted it to one side, still scrutinizing my work. 

"It's nice," Elliot spoke up. We all turned to look at him.

"What, none of you said anything so I did," he shrugged, munching on something.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Is that a strawberry?"

He paused, chewing slowly. I almost got distracted by his jawline. 

"Yes," he replied slowly. I marched up to him, taking one from the bowl in his hands.

"Hey! That's mine," he glared. 

"Hm, well now it's mine," I grinned, taking a slow, deliberate bite out of it. His eyes darkened as he narrowed his gaze at me. Something told me he wasn't looking at my face. 

"It's so flowy," Yann said, flapping Saskia's hair with his hands. 

"Stop it," Saskia swatted his hands away, clearly annoyed. 

"Ok everybody out!" I clapped my hands, shoving everyone out of her bathroom. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Today felt like one of the longest day's ever. I was exhausted from doing a lot of productive things around the house. I called my parents as well, feeling quite good about that. My sister didn't want to talk to me because she was "busy working". I mean how much work does a 14 year old have. I felt a bit disappointed because I was trying to be a good big sister and maintain a relationship. I didn't want her to feel like she was alone because my parents did work a lot. My mother was a registered nurse and my father was a cardiologist. They both met before med school and the rest was history. I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I got up from my bed, shutting off my laptop. That thing literally burned my eyes. 

I changed into a pair of loose running shorts and a racer-back tank top. It was extremely humid and hot as most of Europe was under a heat wave. Ever since I was a little girl, I loved looking at the stars. They made me feel at peace, as if they were watching over me. Taking care of me. they followed me everywhere. And though they disappeared when the sun came up, they were always back in the sky by nightfall. I stepped onto the balcony, sliding the door shut behind me. A familiar smell made it's way into my senses. Cigarettes. I turned to my left to find Elliot leaning against the railing on his forearms. I don't think he noticed me. He was in his own world. His shoulders were tensed as he took a drag of his cigarette. I didn't know that our rooms shared a balcony. Choosing to let him be, I moved to the very corner of the deck, looking up at the sky. It was a clear night with a full moon. 

It felt like hours had passed as I thought of all the things I had to do. My parents, my sister, my guitar. I thought about my future. What classes I would take in college. What career I wanted. What major I would pursue. My parents were pressuring me to go into humanities, which was a passion of mine. But my heart wanted to follow film-making, my real passion. 

"Do the angels talk to you?" a voice said from behind me. I turned around, startled. 

"You're looking at the sky as if they do," Elliot continued, blowing out a puff of smoke. He stood a good 5 feet away from me. Half his face was illuminated by the moonlight, making him look like the angel of darkness. 

"The stars."

"What about them?" he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow, stepping closer. I took a step back with every step he took forward. 

"They're watching over us."

He seemed to think about my words before speaking. 

"Over us? Or you think they're watching over you."

"I know they're watching over us."

My back hit the railing as he stood less than a foot away from me. His lips parted, releasing a puff of smoke into my face. The smell made me feel sick, but I didn't show it. 

"Mon cœur, no one is watching over us. It's just a fragment of your little imagination," he said bitterly, a cold look passing over his face. He dropped his cigarette, snuffing it out with his shoe. 

"No," I breathed, shaking my head, "the stars will always watch over us."

I barely had time to blink before he grabbed my wrists roughly, pulling me to his chest. His eyes searched mine and his jaw ticked with anger. I glared up at him through my lashes, his 6'2 frame towering over my 5'6 frame. The smell of the smoke overpowered his usual intoxicating scent.

"They can never save you from the what the world has in store for you," he hissed, his grip tightening on my wrists. My gaze darted between his eyes. I caught a glimpse of hurt and sadness amongst the anger. He immediately caught on to what I was doing and pushed me away from his hold. Within seconds, he was standing at the other end of the deck, near his door. I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding. He paused for a moment after opening the door to his room. I stood there, watching him. 

"Bonne Nuit Isla," he said soflty before disappearing into his room, not once looking back. 

That night I lay in bed, the image of his face swirling through my thoughts. 'How could one be so handsome, and yet so broken?' I randomly asked myself.

Elliot Hernandez, the boy who captured my thoughts. 

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