A Second Excerpt from DWBSN Reworked

Give a year of merry thanks for new Christmas, all~

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e_e

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Anyway, I'm back with another excerpt from my DWBSN reworked story, only, this one, I think will probably make it into my book.

(***SORT OF SPOILERS***)
In the old version of DWBSN, Skain was forced to a sort of "gang initiation" when he joined a government rebel group (and, yes, I used a "government rebel group" instead of a straight-up bloody "gang" because everything that I wrote when I was twelve was a rip-off of the Hunger Games, wooo~ so much fangirling~!  >.<).  Throughout the whole ordeal, he was obligated to fake affection for a girl named Iris in order to save the life of his older sister and the girl he really liked (the latter of whom he was ordered to kill in his initiation, the former of whom would be killed if he failed his initiation).  However, 1.) the threat that forced him to make such a bizarre plan was really plot-holish and 2.) I didn't really flesh out the agony that he went through because I only wrote from Silvia's perspective.  ...so...in this reworked version, I wanted to do both.
(***END SORT OF SPOILERS***)

Oh, also, for those of you into MBTI who are looking at Silvia in the below and thinking, "What even, Clove, that's totally not ISTP behavior."  Yes, you're absolutely right.  After trying desperately to get Silvia ISTP and Skain ENTJ to behave, they overruled me and made Silvia into a hot-headed ENFP, which, for all intents and purposes, works better for the sake of normality and is still compatible.  (Plus, I'm pretty sure no one wants to read about how a non-emotional ISTP and a heartless ENTJ interact romantically, even if I find that particular type pairing as entertaining as a Chinese circus, which is to say: a wordy lot.)

...so, without further ado, please enjoy my new writing from Skain's perspective~  ^_^

~ ~ ~

     I shouldn’t move her.
     I shouldn’t wake her up.

     After all, even though we’re safe and alone for once, she’s sleeping remarkably lightly in my lap, her head cradled against my shoulder.  But I’m tired too, and, if I drift off, I’ll release her and probably startle her awake in the process.  Smiling weakly, I lean my face against her hair, inhale her scent, and caress her breath with my lips.  I’ve always wanted to hold her like this, and I hate myself for feeling so exhausted, but it’s been weeks since I’ve had proper rest, and that lack has started to show.
     After nearly dropping off for the nth time, I cautiously push my legs under the covers of our bed and gently lower myself to a lying position, letting Silvia slide onto the mattress next to me, the arch of her neck over my arm.  She stirs at the movement, and I turn to her warily, hoping for her own good that she stays asleep, but, much to my personal angst, her eyes flutter open after another second.
     With a massive yawn, she glances at me - and then at the clock next to me - and gives a little start.  “Oh, Skain, I’m sorry; I must’ve fallen asleep when we were talking…”
     I close my eyes and pull her closer to me.  “No, it was my mistake for gabbing for so long…”  A few seconds of peaceful silence blankets us before I add, “You’re so…fascinating to me, Silvia; I could talk to you for days and forget to eat just to hear your voice…”
     She laughs and swats me playfully.  “My voice is so great now, is it?  Don’t try to throw that one over me, silly; you’re still just a silver-tongued, rich-kid playboy.”
     “Playboy?”  I open an eye.  “You know, it’s not flattery if it’s true.”
      Smirking mischievously at her, I find myself caught between the numbing grip of sleep deprivation and the stimulating fingers of beauty.  Silvia leans over me, her hand on my sternum and in my hair, and I gaze back up at her with overwhelming affection as she tilts her chin forward and positions her mouth over mine.

     Too soon, she pulls away, and I close my eyes, drained completely of energy, as our breathing rates slow together.  Right before I drift off, though, it suddenly seems so important for me to tell her that I love her, that I love her more than I’ve ever loved a human, and that I need her.  It seems vital - I can’t lose her - and yet I can’t find the strength or will to say so before I’ve fallen asleep.

- - -

     …and, before I can dream, I’m awake.

     Warmth has spread through my whole body over the night, and, for once, I don’t feel an endless chain of exhaustion winding around me and binding me.  I’m happy here, I realize, and happiness is rare, so I savor it, reaching out slowly for Silvia.  Concerned when my hand finds only air though, I open my eyes and feel my forehead tighten when I realize the other side of my bed is made.  Quickly, I observe my surroundings: the late afternoon sun, my phone with new, emotionally abusive texts from Ice, and…

     Iris?!

     Reality crushes me swiftly.

     I turn so that she doesn’t see me and grip my mouth tightly with both hands, nauseous from grief and frustration, both of which hit me exponentially harder when stemmed from my dreams.  Sensing that something’s wrong, Iris puts down the schoolbook she was reading and walks over to me.

     “Are you all right, Skain?”

     My arm hides my tears, and I reply evenly in a muffled voice, “Yeah.  I’m fine.”
     “Okay.  It’s almost five o’clock.  Do you want to leave soon?”

     Leave soon.
     To dinner.
     On a date.

     Because I’m trying to save Silvia.
     Because I love her, and, right now, she thinks that I’m heartless…
     …and, to an extent, certainly I have to be to do this to her.

     Iris sits at the edge of my bed and runs her fingers over my back; I struggle to not lash out at her or shove her away from me, but there’s nothing I want more than that.  Instead, I take a deep, shaking breath and reply, “Yeah…” My head is still down, and I wipe the dampness away from my eyes as I get up, my body still sore from all the work I’ve done recently.  “Let me get cleaned up really quick, and then we can go.”
     Iris nods, and I smile weakly at her, grabbing my phone and heading to the relative privacy of the bathroom.

     As soon as I lock the door and throw on the sink water, I’m back on the ground, gripping the toilet and trying desperately to conquer the waves of sickness that keep sweeping me.  Only sheer willpower keeps me from heaving, and, when the urge has left, I lean back with sweat soaking my shirt and glance at my phone, quickly reading through the texts from Ice:

     Sent 4:15 P.M.: What a heartbreaker you are.  Already taking on a new girl?
     Sent 4:16 P.M.: I guess this means Silvia didn’t teach you a THING about love if you’re still relying on romance as an emotional crutch.
     Sent 4:16 P.M.: Dad will be so disappointed, little bro.
     Sent 4:16 P.M.: …but that’s your life, isn’t it?  Just don’t do anything you’ll regret later.

     The messages end there, and I let the phone drop out of my trembling hands.

     Somehow, I’m going to do this.
     Somehow, I’m going to get through today.

     I just don’t see how when my legs won’t even support me.

     Grabbing the countertop for support, I throw off my shirt - my bruises are still visible, so Silvia’s must be too - and wash my face and neck with cold water, trying to stop sweating.  Eventually, my body returns to a normal temperature - though the marks of true, extended fatigue are still present - and I grab a towel, wiping myself off and opening the door.  Iris starts at the sight of me, and I get a new shirt out of the dresser next to my bed with decided neutrality.

     “All right.”  I duck into my new shirt, and Iris’ face morphs from light pink to dark red when I grab her hand and kiss her lightly on the cheek.  “Shall we go, beautiful?”

     Shall we go and convince Ice that you’re my sacrificial lamb?

~ ~ ~

Write on!
Clove