Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 19: Part 1•

•Word Count: 2,875

"Easy there" Elias says gruffly.

I want to look at him but the pain in my neck is just too much -a manifestation of continuous pulses in my neck streaking towards my head.

Elias' frown is the first thing I glimpse when I dare open my eyes, before his whole features let up and the frown morphs into a broad smile.
Embarrassed, I shake my head slowly to overcome the soreness and smile back at him.

Lips pursed to suppress the knowing smile, Joe looks at me and then to Elias, before checking her watch,

"I'll be by the parking lot" She says, patting my upper back before skipping down the steps, rounding the school's building and disappearing into the rear portion of campus.

"I have something for you" Elias says, a hint of excitement flavours his words.
Involuntarily, my eyes travel to his hands to fid them empty and head tilts to the side in question.

He smiles, cocking his head towards the opposite side of the street, "Follow me,"

Safely crossed the street, he opens the passenger door to his car, gesturing for me to get in. I hesitate, unsure of how to react.
Recess is almost over and even though I'm free next class, I don't want to come off as an easily-ditching student,

"I-"

"Don't worry, it won't take long," He assures.

The thought of Joe and her fiancé in the parking lot is the only thing sustaining my reluctance at this moment.

Elias sighs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks, "It's Pierre's journal"
As soon as the words leave his mouth, I visibly stiffen, my slacked jaw almost caressing the floor.

I blink, "Come again?"

He laughs, removing one hand from his pocket to scratch the curve of his eyebrow with his index finger, "Pierre kept a journal for the entirety of his and Antoinette's affair,"

Curiosity and excitement alternately send my heart into an unsteady rhythm, and I respond to the news with a swallow, because, expectedly, my throat feels dry.
And of course, as if compelled, I climb into the passenger seat, before Eiias slams the door shut with a smug grin.

He rounds the car to the driver's side and climbs in; reaching into the backseat, he grabs something so heavy that it makes the back of his hand a tendinous overlay.
My breath catches in my throat at the old looking -very weighty- book he places onto my lap.

"How did you get your hands on this ?" I ask, almost choking on my spit.

I open the worn velvety brown hardcover, fighting the light-headedness that makes me blink continuously to accommodate the exotic sight.
French words of endearment -and some attempted poetry- swirl in a delicate, yet elaborate handwriting across the papers, and I fight the string of 'wow's' that are threatening to roll off my tongue.
It then occurs to me that he hasn't answered my question.

When I lift my head to look at him, I was intending to repeat my question, until I notice what he's lost his focus on.
He's staring straight ahead, his expression undecipherable, and when following his line of vision I'm stunned into stiffness to see he's looking at the homeless man from earlier, munching hungrily on the sandwich I left him.

At the sight, a stubborn lump camps in my throat, preventing me from swallowing, so I quickly avert my gaze, suddenly finding interest in watching the fur-adorned glove compartment.

"Élise is lucky to have you" Elias comments monotonously. I turn my head to look at him, but his focus remains straight ahead.

"She'll age to realise she wouldn't have been more blessed to have you for a guardian, drilling your remarkable sense of morality into her developing mind," He finishes, turning to look at me with an intensity that makes me wish I continued watching the glove compartment.