Dark Hour

Part 9

I looked up at the grey sky, remembering Apollo's crestfallen face when I had told him that I needed to go back. I never told him how I felt, that I had a love for him so strong that I would never see him again if it meant to keep him from hurting. I looked back out at the, for once, calm ocean water. There was no wind, nothing that would keep me from hyperventilating about what I had done. I shuddered, remembering Tiffany and her psychotic attempt at killing me. I remembered what Apollo had said as he'd hugged my nearly dead body.

"I heard the screams too late."

I closed my eyes in anguish. This wasn't the mood I needed to be in. I needed to be comfortable, I needed to forget Apollo completely. I couldn't think about his wild, curly hair and his hypnotising eyes. . .I shook my head and thought about Lucky. LuckyLuckyLuckyLucky. I imagined his warm, eye wrinkling smile as I walked into his room. It would be looking over the front garden, like he requested. There would be the bunch of yellow flowers I sent him five days ago. A picture of me when I was seven holding a nerf gun on our trip to Australia. Then another photo of us sitting on a bench at the kitchen table when I was fifteen. That was the year Lucky's hair started to turn grey. I sighed and thought about how the window would be slightly dirty and the cup on the bedside table would be nearly empty.

I felt a warmth spread over my whole body as the wind picked up around me.

I imagined him pulling me in for a hug and whispering in my ear how much he loves me.

I struggled to keep pushing thoughts into my mind. To keep thinking about Lucky.

I imagined him commenting on the clothes I was wearing.

I felt my conscience wobble, I needed to think straight.

I imagined myself pulling away from him and running away. . . running away to Apollo. . .

I snapped and my body jerked as I fell to the ground, sand flew into my mouth as I called out one thing;

"Apollo!"

The world went black, I heard the faint call of sirens. I wondered what he saw as he jumped to my broken body. Three days after the attack and I was already hurting myself. I couldn't begin to comprehend how he felt. Apollo probably wanted me gone. Out of his life. Forever, until death. . .

I opened my eyes and squinted as a white light stung my eyes. When I could see I looked around, wondering where the hell I was. I couldn't move my legs and my nose felt itchy. As I scanned the room, I spotted Apollo watching me from the couch in the corner. He was a mess, his clothes looked like they hadn't been changed in the past week. His eyes were even darker thanks to the rings under his eyes. When he saw me looking his tired eyes widened and he fell to his knees by the side of my bed.

I stroked his oily hair assuredly. I knew that in this moment I should tell him how I feel and I closed my eyes, listening to the heart monitor.

"Apollo. . ." I whispered.

I opened my eyes as he stood up. "A glass of water? An extra pillow? Tell me what you need, I'll get it." He looked so vulnerable standing there. He looked so. . .in love. I smiled and shook my head as tears fell down my face, they were warm. They reassured me that there was good things in this world. There were some things worth living for.

"No, I don't need anything but you." I whispered, looking down at my hands. I was afraid of what would happen. I looked up at him through my lashes. There was a moment of silence before Apollo sat down and wrapped me in his arms. I didn't hug him back. I was too numb. Too unable to say anything to express the thrill I felt.

He pulled back and looked at me worriedly. "Are you sure you don't need a glass of water?" He asked.

I shook my head. I knew that I would probably choke on anything, even if I tried not to. I opened my mouth to apologise for going and nearly killing myself. Again. When the door opened and a familiar face peered in. My eyes popped open, properly, in shock.