Elena's P.O.V.
Hurt. I was so incredibly hurt.
So many emotions swirled around the air, and I didn't know what I was feeling anymore. What happened? No matter how many times I replayed the scene, I just couldn't get a grip on it.
The frustration was overwhelming and heavy, yet, there was no way to get rid of it. No way I could rant it out. I was too breathless to fight, too tired to dodge the bullets, too weak to defend myself. Yet, Hazel kept going.
What was happening to me?
Did Captain Claes harm me more than I thought? Did he strip me of my armor and shield? Ethan helped me realize that I was healing, but as I'm watching the development of my health, I wasn't so sure anymore.
Perhaps it was just Hazel's blows that stagnated my recovery? Or maybe I wasn't recovering at all? Why couldn't I understand anything? Had the shock not melted yet? Was I in denial? How can't I seem to function properly- God, how much I wanted to scream.
This is all his fault. He did this. Oh, how much I hate that pirate.
"But it's mine too," I spoke from the backside of the coin, spilling the blame on both sides.
The storm had been growing a long time ago - long before I had seen or sensed it. Before I even knew it existed. The pirate did not put more fuel on the fire, he only triggered the thunders.
Pathetic. I'm so pathetic and selfish. She didn't deserve to go through so much trouble, and yet, she did.
"Marie, how dare you leaving me like this? Oh, by the way, I found the culprit who painted our- wait, did you get some Norwegian candy-" Carl's voice died when his struggling eyes met my gaze. He stood in the kitchen door with shopping bags that fell to the floor.
To see him troubled like this was out of his character. His face contained no grain of joy nor smile. It was as if I was witnessing the sky turning green and the grass converting to blue.
"What happened?" He gently brushed my hair to see how far the injuries ran. "I swear to God, if it was that creepy guy that was outside of your window-"
"Could you sleep over?" A pale question left my lips instead of an answer. Although I tried to smile to lighten the mood, the corner of my lips wouldn't budge. "If it's not too much to ask, of course."
Every word was so plaintive, and I felt so stupid for even talking. But I was in such a deep need of a friend; of another person's presence. My fear of being left alone grew unruly, and I couldn't take another stab.
Pathetic.
He looked empathic, and though he tried to hide it, I could see the grain of sympathy in his pale orbs. It was a gaze that I loathed most in the world. "Marie, I will not leave this house for a second - not even to get my pajamas or toothbrush. But I have to warn you though; some of your clothes might disappear over the night. The same goes for your toothbrush."
His comment birthed a smile on my face, however, it never lived up to my eyes. "Thank you, Carl."
The blonde's arm ran around my shoulder, pulling me towards him in a warm embrace. "Should I send the wrestling team after that kid?"
***
I sent messages around, trying to dwindle people's concern and trouble. It was still summer and the break was still alive for a couple of weeks. Therefore, the replies came in mixed times.
Most of them sent their best wishes, but it was only Emil who went through the trouble to visit me.
It felt great to have him around. Although he didn't talk, his presence was a welcoming warmth that I had missed.
He didn't ask much about my injuries, only gave me tips on how to hide, subside and handle the bruises in the best way possible. For some reason, it troubled me to know how wide his knowledge of this area stretched.
One day, I will have to face him my concern. But for now, I've been focusing on my recovery to collect the needed strength to travel through time.
For weeks have I been waiting to rant.
"Hey, where you going?" Carl's bewildered voice followed me to the hall. Although he was holding a bowl of cereal, he still managed to block my way. "Elena, what's going on?"
"Can't I just go on a walk without being interrogated? Last time I checked, this is a free country." My sarcastic remarks were a successful concealer that hid the colorless hues in my face.
His diamond-colored eyes narrowed in a tiny line, and he looked at me for a long time. "Do you promise to come back and make those Norwegian waffles again? I'll help you cook and clean and all."
A meager smile grew on my lips, "Sure thing. Just don't ruin anything while I'm gone."
Lying was an easy case. I never understood how I never got a grip on it earlier, it was such a handy resource.
How people felt bad for lying, I could not fathom. Sure, I felt rotten for not uncovering the secrets and truths, but I didn't feel awful for lying about it. To hide something is one thing, but to lie is another case.
I didn't feel bad - I really didn't. And that insensitivity concerned me.
Carl bid his goodbye, and I pulled out the most shining smile to further my lie. Although I saw hesitation flash his eyes, he didn't stop me.
Whether he knew or not, I was thankful either way. I was thankful to be left alone with support.
***
"Francis?" I called across the room, well aware that he wasn't to be found at this time. "Are you here?"
The notes I carried in my hands felt heavy. If Francis wasn't here to bring the symbols to life, it meant that I would have to revive them. And frankly, I didn't really have the lethargy to do it.
"Elena?" Ethan's warm voice replied instead, and he dropped his hand from the hilt of his sword. "I didn't expect you to come back so soon."
"Neither did I," a dry chuckle left my lips, the voiceless tune as depressing as the dim colors in the room. "Not that I'm bothered by your company or anything, but what are you doing here?"
Ethan half-smiled, "I know how much you dislike having the guards around, so I sent them home." He explained, his warm eyes encountering my orbs. "And I stayed behind in case you were to come by."
A tiny gleam covered my lips as I met him halfway, "That's thoughtful. I appreciate it."
He watched me carefully, not even trying to mask his concern nor sadness. "You look better."
I don't feel like it.
"Thanks. A friend gave me some great advice on how to make the bruises fade quicker," my reply was an attempt to make things lighter and less heavy. It may have worked in the eyes of a stranger, but Ethan and I knew better.
We knew damn well better.
"You might look well, but you sure do not seem like it," he stopped to watch my reaction. "If there is anything I can do-"
The papers left my hands, dropping to the ground as they were too heavy to bear. There was a turmoil, a blinding discord that caused a headache. Immediately, I went to pick the sheets from the ground, shaking like a mess.
God, of all times, I have to lose it now?
Ethan helped me to collect the papers, and when I went to grab the last sheet, he covered his hand over mine, stopping my fumbling.
"I'm sorry, I just. . ." Words floated in the soupy mess, and I could not grasp a comprehensible reply in the chaos. "Something happened yesterday, and so I wanted to. . . you know," I gestured to the note sheets in my hands.
"Come on," Ethan slowly pulled me towards the direction of the piano, holding a soft and loose grip on my wrist.
He put the papers neatly in front of me and pushed the chair for me. My fingers rested on the keys and tangents, and I pressed one note to feel the familiar touch again.
Music was like therapy. It was a safety blanket that calmed me and brought oxygen to my body. I always melted to its beauty. Whether it was a composition of Mozart or a heavy metal song by Metallica; music never failed to bring me to another world.
And for that reason, I let go of my hesitancy and misgiving. I just let it all flow.
Although Nuvole Bianche by Ludovico Einaudi had a taste of depression, it was undoubtedly one of the best compositions that I have heard. It might have started slow and easy, but it escalated like all things do in life.
I just wanted to close my eyes and let the chills run up and down my skin, but I had to keep an eye on my playing. Even Ethan's gaze followed my fingers' dance moves.
His eyes made my hands feel warm, and although I wanted to be alone to begin with, I was happy to have him next to me.
For the first time after Hazel's attacks, I felt some kind of warmth.