Ethan's P.O.V.
"Go, we'll catch up with you!" Lorenzò's voice shouted across the garden, urging me to leave before Mr. W could see me.
I saluted him, wishing him and Conner good luck with their escape from our harsh teacher.
Today had been an odd day; Elena did not show up as promised. At first, I thought she might have forgotten our meeting, however, that would've been even more bizarre.
When the sun began settling in, converting the daytime to twilight, I decided to try and visit her before a new day could be born.
And to make up for the lost time, I cooked one of her favorite dishes: pizza.
I found joy to make this weird dish like it was the first time she introduced it to me.
"First, you put the tomato sauce on the dough," she pointed at the red dressing, waiting for me to execute her order. "And then you put on the meat and vegetables before you top it with some cheese."
"What's up with you and cheese? First, it's cheesecake and now pizza?"
Although she rolled her bright eyes, a smile spilled over her features, lightening up her pale and pink face. "It's going to be good, Your Majesty. Trust me."
And trust that I did.
It was interesting eating the food, especially without using cutlery. Despite the massive mess we had created, it was doubtless a delicious dish.
However, I did find the name 'Pizza' a bit weird to call a meal. But then again, she was quite bizarre herself. In a positive way, of course.
The memory triggered a smile, an excitement that beat like a drum. It was strange how eager Elena made feel. I always enjoyed the times we shared; discovering fun where one should not think it would be.
And I had the impression that she felt the same way.
It was unusual for Elena to not show up to our agreed meetings. But perhaps she had caught a cold? Or maybe she just lost track of time?
Whatever the matter was, I knew she would welcome a homemade pizza.
I just hope I made it the way she likes it.
By the time I reached the theater, a twilight spilled over the sky, the sight enchanting and beautiful. However, an unpleasant feeling moved in where the wonderment of the dusk should have been.
The door was open, barely hanging where it did.
Suddenly, the sword on my hip felt heavy, and I instinctively rested my hand on the grip, dropping the bag of food in the process. Hastily, I walked towards the main room, hoping to find Elena and Francis caught in a melody.
But the deeper I walked into the heart, the quieter and colder it became.
Had there been a break-in?
"Elena?" I called out, feeling troubled to see how all the doors were wide open and splintered. It was the only signal that I needed before I drew my sword. "Hello? Whoever you are, show yourself!"
It was quiet, but not empty.
"Help." A faint voice whispered, catching my attention that drew it to the figure laying in a pool of pain.
"Francis!" I ran to the hurt monk, horrified to see such deep wounds on a kind and gentle person like him. "God, what happened?"
He was coated in bloody bruises, the markings showing the strength of violent actions. Unconsciousness was trying to drag him to its hole, but he somehow found a power to fight it.
His hand was in the air, trying to grip for something. Without hesitation, I gently took his cold limb in mine, feeling the desperation and fear in his weak hold.
"Please, Prince Ethan," he wailed, shaking in massive agony and dread. "You need to help."
"It's okay, Francis, you're safe now. I will find you the best doctor in Areadan. Come on, let me carry you-"
"Please, Your Majesty," he cried, tears falling from his miserable, beaten eyes. "You need to go before they leave - before it is too late."
I frowned, "What do you mean? Who are-" And that's when I saw it. Her hood. Gray as the dark clouds. "Where is Elena?"
"I thought that I've been hurt before
But no one's ever left me quite this sore
Your words cut deeper than a knife
Now I need someone to breathe me back to life."
An awful feeling bit and scratched my insides, crawling itself to the outside of my skin. I pulled her hood closer, finding a stain of food that held a memory of joy.
The old man shook in sobs, still weak from the tormentful time he had endured. Anguished and disheartened, his words trembled. "They took her."
My fingers tightened around the hood, afraid that if I let it go, her scent would vanish. The heavy dismay, triggered by his shared knowledge, was beating loudly in my ears and chest, playing a song that summoned an alarm.
"Got a feeling that I'm going under
But I know that I'll make it out alive
If I quit calling you my lover
Move on."
"Who took her?" I reattached our orbs, trying to grasp the situation without luck. His blackened eyes made his grief reflect cloudlessly in his silver hue.
"What's going on here?" The familiar voice added new questions to the query, watching the gruesome scene breathe to life.
"Francis, are you alright?" A mop of blonde hair was swift on the monk's side, hastily examining his wounds and massive bruises. "Ethan, what are you doing? He needs help!"
"Who took her?" I repeated, hearing how the drums of horror beat to the song of terror.
"You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
Shaking, falling onto my knees
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
His gulp echoed quietly and he trembled with misery and fear, almost as if he was afraid of his own words. "The pirates," he sobbed, a knife twisting his voice. "The pirates took Elena."
And then everything seemed to slowly lose its color, melting away to reveal its dead paint. A dagger wrenched around and around in my stomach, making the world fade away in the tuneless melody.
"I'm tripping over myself
Aching, begging you to come help
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
It was getting too loud and heavy. I gripped the gray, small hood in my hands and sprinted out of the room, trying to reach her before the identity of the clothing died.
"Just like a moth drawn to a flame
Oh, you lured me in I couldn't sense the pain
Your bitter heart, cold to the touch
Now I'm gonna reap what I sow
I'm left seeing red on my own."
I ran through the village, bumping into people in such speed and strength that they crashed to the ground. But I could not find my mind nor my manners as I left without apologizing.
"Got a feeling that I'm going under
But I know that I'll make it out alive
If I quit calling you my lover
Move on."
Nothing was rightful. Just a dark, hollow place. A world I refused to see as long as the symphony was still missing.
"You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
Shaking, falling onto my knees
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
Her cold presence blinded me, suffocating me from the inside. But I did not stop running. I couldn't. Wouldn't. The song was drowning my ears, dousing out the world and my curly-haired friend who ran after.
"I'm tripping over myself
Aching, begging you to come help
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
I reached the pier that swirled in cold winds, its emptiness reflecting the surface.
They can't be gone. They can't. She can't be gone. She can't.
"Needle and the thread
Gotta get you out of my head
Needle and the thread
Gonna wind up dead."
My eyes frantically looked all over, trying to find her before it was too late - before her warmth was out of reach.
"You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
Shaking, falling onto my knees
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
"Elena!" I shouted, turning in circles as the world span like a running wheel, leaving me on the deserted dock with a chaotic planet. "Elena!"
"I'm tripping over myself
Aching, begging you to come help
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
"No, no, no, no, no. . ."
She was nowhere to be seen.
"Elena!"
Her laughter was nowhere to be heard.
"Elena!"
The sweet warmth was nowhere to be found.
"Elena!"
"And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches."
And then I fell to my knees, clutching the last memory I had of her. Filled with ache and fear, I lifted my gaze to let it spill over the empty sea.
"Ella. . ."