Elena's P.O.V.
Anguish. Apprehension. Adrift.
The three big A's that described my situation.
Ache twisted my limbs and joints, which was quickly followed by bruises burning and corroding my skin.
Terror awoke me from my slumbers, keeping me up at nights. It was also the source of my flinching, something that I did whenever there was a loud noise or an abrupt action.
And lastly, I was lost. At the moment, I was just feeling my way through the darkness, hoping to find a solid ground before I started to recover and accept.
Recover and accept.
There were so many feelings swirling around me and acting so differently; some were not able to get under my skin while others stabbed me repeatedly.
I knew my time in captivity had changed me somehow. The way I could lie so smoothly gave it away. It was weird to have this control over my body language and words. But I'm not going to lie (pun not intended), it is a handy tool.
Everyone bought my fake reassurance of being okay. I wasn't and still aren't. To get used to my safe surroundings was more difficult than to adapt to the violent captivity. It's easier to turn your body into survival mode, but it's more arduous to turn it off.
Blending into a situation does not require much, but to stand out asks for a strength that I don't have.
For that reason, I'm glad I have solid lies on my side to conceal my vulnerability. No one sees the mask - no one except for a stubborn prince.
"Hey, it's just me," I remember Ethan's voice always being so gentle and calm before he opened the door to my room. He also walked with slow steps, always acting careful and soft. Never did he raise his voice nor cause any abrupt movement.
Gentle. That was all he was around me.
After I woke up one day with a running heart and boiling in sweat and pain, he became more careful. To tell the truth, it was an ugly experience. I wish I didn't have anyone to witness my incident, especially someone as close as Ethan.
Never did I think that I would feel this way after being freed from Claes' claws. I couldn't fathom why I was still so afraid, why I put myself through the torture to relive the violent episodes - and why I was drifting away like this.
Pathetic.
That was the only word I could describe myself. Absolutely, utterly pathetic.
"Elena?"
"Hmm?" I snapped my head to Ethan, watching how his chest fell when he sighed.
"I asked if you had eaten anything."
My orbs quickly glanced at the bathroom, "Yeah. It tasted good."
The consequences of this entire thing had also touched my physical health, something I despised the most. I'm a person who likes to work out and eat food that will increase my muscles. And when such routine stagnates, everything that I have built is destined to fall apart.
The thought of being a too slow runner to be on the soccer team broke me the most. I would have to build every muscle from scratch and expand my stamina again.
Sometimes I wish I hadn't woken up at all. It took me three days to gain my consciousness, which was followed by blackouts every now and then. The first thing I remember was the different voices in my room. But most of all, I remember how my body was paralyzed and unable to pull the weighty slumber off my chest.
"Wake up."
"Lorenzò, it's not going to work."
"Well, monsieur you have to use water, of course."
"Aramis put down that glass right now."
"D'accord, d'accord," a small sigh followed his words. "It was just a strategy to see if Ãliane was listening."
I was listening and mentally writing down a note to get back at him for suggesting such idea.
But that was two weeks ago, and I still haven't managed to execute my plan. If it hadn't been for the doctor's strict orders and for the fact that it was a turmoil of pain to move, I would've gotten my revenge a long time ago.
"You're doing that thing again," Ethan brought me back to earth once more, pulling another blanket over my shoulders as I was unknowingly shaking in coldness.
For some reason, I have been freezing a lot - and it's not a good kind of coldness.
"What thing? Can't be worse than hiding from a friend," I threw back without tasting the harsh words. Instantly, I realized how cruel the comment was, and not a second later, regret leaked all over the place.
He looked down in guilt, and I felt so angry at myself for causing so much unnecessary stabs.
"Elena, I'm sorry for-"
"No, don't think about it," I cut him off, pulling the blanket closer to me as I wished to just escape it all. "I understand. I looked into the mirror once, and. . ." Teeth sank into my lip as the memory of my eerie reflection surfaced. "I didn't want to look at myself either."
"Ella, of course, it's not because of that. You're no less beautiful today than you were before," he sneaked his hand to hold mine, the warmth of his skin felt great in my cold one. Yet I could not find it in me to grip his hand nor look at him when I disbanded our hold. "To see you like this, it. . . it hurt."
His words drew my attention to him, resulting in our orbs to lock in a solid eye contact, the bridges between us growing.
"At the ball, you were so happy and filled with so much life, and to see that lively person be in such pain it's. . . unfair." He shook his head, his eyebrows knitted in a sad anger. "And it's my fault that it happened, because if I had just checked his whereabouts-"
"Ethan."
"And if I had just jailed him earlier-"
"Ethan."
"Or if I had just stayed away from you at all costs, then none of this would have happened." His voice shook with misery and chagrin, his eyes reflecting deep and heavy feelings that shined in his orbs. "You wouldn't be in any pain and-"
That's when I decided to grip his hand, feeling how he squeezed it immediately. It was at that moment that I found my lost, needed strength. A support I could lean on.
Every piece fell in its place, painting the picture that I needed to realize the truth behind my situation and raw experiences.
"And if you had, he would have gone after your friends and family. Ethan, I would go through that hell a thousand times more if it ensured Jordan's safety. If it had to happen to someone, I'm glad it happened to me and not someone else." My words were filled with such strength and confidence that I felt, for the first time, powerful. "Ethanie, you have to stop beating yourself up for something you haven't done," I stopped the single tear from falling further down his face. "I'm not mad or sad - a bit sore, yes, but who wouldn't be after sleeping on the floor for God knows how long?"
A tiny gleam was summoned on his face, a light that erased some of the misery that was cut into his features.
Our hands were still entwined, the warmth of the hold chasing the coldness away. "My point is. . . I'm glad you didn't stay away from me. I'm glad that you're one heck of a stalker."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, we laughed - a genuine laugh that felt so good and warm. I had almost forgotten how happiness tasted like, but it was all coming back, at last.
"You can't blame yourself for the things that you wish didn't happen. It's not your fault just like it's not mine. Remember that, alright?" I told him, a smile painted on my face as a result of our loud gleam.
He nodded with a small joy filtering his eyes, bringing my hand to his lips that touched my now warm skin. "Always," Ethan whispered, not letting go.
This was the moment that we both had needed so badly; it was a rant that had finally been breathed out like fire, causing a light to enliven the once dark surroundings.
Something happened to me: I fell. But it wasn't like the time with the hill or the times on the soccer field, or even when I dropped my notes whenever I sang.
I fell into something warm and cozy. Feelings that I never thought I would ever feel towards someone else than Hazel were summoned, causing an inward gleam to grow.
A smile spilled over my face as I pulled the blanket off me. After all, the sun at home warms better than the sun elsewhere.