~ Esmond~
Sloane is freezing cold in my arms as I hold her, as gently as possible. Do I know why I’m doing this? No idea. All I know is that she was in pain, and I had the urge to take it all away from her. “My sister is fucking dying,” I didn’t know that, everybody sorta just thought she was adopted by the rumors Arran started. I’m not sure why he started them, but I guess they just stuck and everybody thought it was true. I’m not going to lie, I did as well. She just never really talked to many people, just one random boy.
Something warm spreads along my shirt, and I freeze when I notice it’s Sloane's tears. I rub her back slightly as her sobs lessen. There is so much I don’t know about her, I hate it when I first get the courage to go up and talk to her, it’s when we are being held hostage by a handful of psychos. Great.
“It’s gonna be ok, we’ll get out of here.” I murmur and she wipes her eyes, beautiful green orbs, and steps back.
“I-um, thanks.” She mutters and sits across the closet from me. Did I go too far with the hug? I don’t regret it, though. I don’t regret hugging the girl who has piked my curiosity for months now.
“Do you remember that time in 3rd grade when you threw a chair at Arran cause he ruined your art project?” I say suddenly, not knowing why. Sloane looks up, some of her chocolate-colored hair slipping out of her ponytail.
“Yeah, a little.” I tuck my hands behind my head and pause for a moment, not sure how to continue on with this conversation.
“It just popped into my head.” I finish lamely, and she nods, looking anywhere but me. I don’t understand her. Some moments she’s all brave and fierce, others she quiet and meek. Maybe it is just the situation we are in. I shake my head, determined to figure her out.
“Favorite color?” Yeah, Esmond, cause that’s really diggin’ in deep. Sloane looks up, her head cock to the side but my heart pounds as I see the beginnings of a weary smile on her lips.
“Emerald green, sometimes dark green if I’m feeling like it.” I nod, and she idly plays with the ripped hem of her dress. A silence fills the air, it’s not exactly uncomfortable, just silent. Sloane is the first to break it.
“Favorite memory?” My brows raise, but she just shrugs but ends up cringing in pain. I ponder the question for a few minutes before a good one comes to my mind.
“I was hanging out with my cousin, we went camping and got lost in the woods. We didn’t bring our phones, cause we wanted to be macho men and I don’t know, we wanted to prove to our friends that we could.” If Sloane could roll her eyes any harder she would no doubt. She goes to say something, but I continue.
“We got lost, but my big brain thankfully brought a paper map. We ended up running out of food, cause his inhumane appetite only got us through two days. Luckily, we found a family hiking the same trail as us, and turns out we were walking in circles the whole time and got nowhere.” A chuckle leaves her lips and my heart flutters slightly.
“I can picture you doing that, you seem happy talking about him.” I smile slightly, yeah, I guess I am.
“Yeah, his name is Victor, and he’s one of the most important people in my life.” She nods and lets her hair down from its ponytail. For being in this whole mess, her hair still looks perfect and settles over her shoulders in neat waves.
“When do you think we’ll be outta here?” She asks as if I would magically have the answer, I don’t.
“How am I ‘spose to know? The man’s a psycho.” Sloane snorts slightly, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. I rub a hand on the back of my neck, feeling my eyes heavy with sleep. How the hell could I sleep at a time like this? People are getting murdered out there and here I am thinking about a pretty girl and sleep? Jeez, that really shows what type of person I am.
“Get some sleep.” She says, and I quirk my brow but lean my head against the wood-paneled wall.
“Try not to watch me sleep.” Sloane rolls her eyes and pointedly stares at me, her face expressionless. I wonder what she is really thinking, maybe about food. At the thought of food, my stomach grumbles loudly, and she chuckles. My face flushes a shade of crimson as I press a hand to my belly.
“I wonder when he’ll feed us.” her eyes are wide, and she’s looking at me as if I’m stupid. Maybe I am. 148Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPJsHRQ7mKT
“We are being held hostage by a crazy man, and you’re thinking about food?” I shrug and smirk at her, patting my stomach.
“I’m a growing boy, I need food.” Sloane shakes her head in mild amusement. I let out a breath, knowing I need to sleep. My eyes stray to the door again, and I wonder what is happening outside it. Is everyone dead? What is Sir doing to them?
“Sleep,” Sloane says, and I roll my eyes but force them closed nonetheless. I want to look at her more, memorize every inch of her face, find out what are real smiles and fake ones. I want to know why she hides her badass part of her, or which side of her is the real one. Or maybe they are both real, I’m not sure. She’s got to be the most confusing person I have ever met.
“I can hear you thinking from here,” Sloane says, and I keep my eyes closed even when I long to keep them open. I just need some sleep.
“Night, Sloane.” I slur, my voice heavy with sleep and exhaustion. My nose hurts as I scratch it, and she leans her back against the wall, staring at the door intently.
“Sleep well, Esmond.”
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