The Little Dove #3 ✔️

45. Trust

CHAPTER 45: Trust

The snow outside made it increasingly difficult to even step out of the mansion, so I remained inside, leaving the room when I couldn't sleep at night or didn't feel up to eating dinner. I barely spoke to Edmund, but it wasn't his lack of trying as it was of my lack in wanting to speak with him. The fireplace of the library in front of me, that I'd found on the second floor of my mindless walking, caught my attention. The patterning was beautiful, it was dark and mysterious, alluding at best.

I gathered three novels and sat closest to the round window that stared outside, it was dark and dreary, a whitish midnight storm. Having my laptop with me, I ran through scans of old files from William Myers' servers, when I missed hearing the distant door opening not too long ago. Though, it could have been any door for that matter.

I open the first novel, sighing in defeat as I begin reading the first page of the fictionalised entrepreneurship, and a gradual romance, by the look of the blurb. I read the words closely, only noticing a certain high top in my peripheral vision, I sigh, "Are you just going to stand there and stare?" I wonder, aloud.

He's silent in his movements, before a desk chair is moved in front of me, "You came out of your room?" He whispers, gently.

I shrug, still staring at the page, "It's not healthy to just sit there and think up a way to talk to you, Edmund. You punched my brother just because he mentioned another man's name. It isn't about whether you and I are worthy of each other, it's about trusting each other, I just don't understand why you brought up more lies about your parents. I found out and I didn't look at you differently, only when I found out about your group, it was..." I couldn't truly explain how numb I felt when I saw that guilty look on his face, regretful eyes. I slowly look up to meet silver orb eyes, that stare through me almost.

He closes his eyes, "I'm sorry about punching your brother," He whispers, slowly, I see it in the tremble of his lips, yet it wasn't in his voice, as he slowly turns his eyes back to mine, he hesitates as he reaches over for my hand, he grips it in both his hands and slowly trail his eyes up to me.

"I lied because I was ashamed, Melanie. It's as simple as that, but there's nothing simple or good about lying to you. I hadn't gotten so practiced with it that the instinct to continue with that story was natural, it shouldn't have been like that with you. You were so upset the first time you found out part of the lie, I was afraid that if I went all the way and told you of every single beating I went through as a child, you would leave me in fear that my past dictates my person now. It doesn't, lemon. I would never try to hurt you, I shouldn't have done that to your brother, but it's been a long time coming with him. You weren't there all those weeks I had to pull answers about your whereabouts." He whispers, staring deeply into my eyes. I gaze in his, losing interest in the book and the laptop as I stare moonlit oceans into his eyes.

He lowers his lips to the back of my hand, "My past has already put you in danger, more than once, and my choices when you first arrived at the academy were blinded and mindless, I don't work that way and I shouldn't have for them." He murmurs.

I just stare closely at his slouched posture, his unshaven face, that annoying stubble on his chin, he sighs, "Lemon, the orphanage changed me in ways I wish I was a normal child, who had a normal childhood. Their teachings weren't ethical and they were not right, but I didn't know any better, I grew up like that. Violence is something I am very much accustomed to, but I don't want you thinking-for even one second-that I'd ever lay a hand on you." He says, the sound of his voice cracking, something clogs in my throat as I look up into his eyes, he moves closer and sits on the side, directly in front of me as I pull my legs up and stare into his frame. He turns to me, with his arm around my legs.