Page 93 of Downfall

He smiles. “Henry Theroux’s a nice bloke but he’s not your type.”

“And what’s my type?” I ask feeling my heckles rise. He’s so familiar with me now. It’s as if we share some intangible level of intimacy, only we don’t.

He runs his eyes over me and for a second I think I’m mistaken. That it must be the alcohol. Or the light. Or something.

“Not him.” He says.

I look away unsure how to reply. This entire evening has been worse than I imagined. Longer too. A part of me wants to simply walk out, go home, and curl up with Bella.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” He says.

“About what?” I ask.

“Roman.”

I look up meeting his eyes wanting to say something, only it’s not exactly his fault is it? Though he didn’t help, it wasn’t necessarily his place to do anything anyway.

“There are things going on above your head.” He says. “A situation. I’m managing it as best I can but I need you to trust me.”

I frown, scanning his face. His words echo the same thing Paris said months ago. My spine reacts as if someone’s just walked on my grave. What exactly is he trying to say right now?

“I said it before Rose, I will protect you but I need you to let me.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need you to.”

“I know you think that.” He persists taking the minutest of steps towards me, closing the distance between us further. “But you’re wrong. Something is happening in Verona right now.”

“What?”

He glances around like he doesn’t trust anyone to not be eavesdropping. “I can’t say. Just, let me take care of you.” His hands wrap around me again. That intimacy that he’s trying to build between us feels like a new cage, a bigger one. One with spikes, and locks that I’ll never escape.

“No.” I reply stepping back. I’m not going to do this again. I’m not going to let someone else take charge, railroad me into a situation I don’t want, when I’m so close to finally escaping all of this.

“Rose please.”

I shake my head enough to make a point without being obvious to everyone who’s got eyes on us and then I make my exit.

This night has been long enough. I’ve done what my father wanted, I showed my face, I put on a good enough performance.

I’m ready to go home, to shut the door, and stop playing the part everyone expects of me.

Roman

I’m a fool to do it.

Reckless too.

Just like I used to be, just like I was six years ago, before I knew better.

And yet I’m here, stood outside her house, staring in, as if I’m possessed. As if something has bound my soul and tied it to hers.

No lights are on. It’s completely pitch black.

And yet somehow I know she isn’t asleep. That’s she’s just as awake in this moment as I am.

I creep quietly up to the same door I slipped through yesterday jimmying the lock until it gives way with a click. Inside it’s silent and yet I can feel it, it’s like everything is on tenterhooks. That the very house is waiting for something.

I take a step. Then another.

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