𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

34

As I look outside the dome with my palm against the glass, separating me from the thick, deep snow, I try to remember what it feels like; try to play the sound of it crunching under my boots in my head. I imagine the little flakes melting against my skin, cooling me. Strange, I know, but there are so many things that I miss about life before.

The seasons are one of them; Summer, when my freckles blow up during the one week of heat Scotland gets. Spring, where there is not much difference from Summer, but more rain. Then there's Autumn, where the world becomes pretty and aesthetic, but still baltic. And now Winter, though it's a lot different from what reality used to be... The snow globe is reversed, and we're all trapped.

However, the view I have is beautiful. The white sheet, like tiny pieces of shattered glass twinkling in the sunlight, sits outside untouched, not flattened down by footprints or bird trails. There are no snowmen or kids screaming as they play. Although I cannot hear what's on the outside, I know there is only silence. Peaceful silence.

I remember when I was around ten, Dad was working, as usual, and Mum had taken me and our dog for a walk. She might be the grumpy parent ever since she found out about Eric and I, but back then, she was my best friend, my idol, and I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

We'd had a snowball fight, ran around like crazy and ended up shaking with how cold we were, but the two of us didn't stop until we tumbled onto the frozen grass and stared at the sky. We counted the stars, laughed at the dog rolling around, then she told me that no matter what, we would always have each other, that her goal in life was for me to be happy.

She turned twenty-seven the day after, refused a party, all she wanted was for her, Dad, and me to go back to the park and play together in the snow. While we were getting dressed, he got a business call and vanished for nearly four weeks to land a multi-million-pound deal that, ultimately, set the family up for life.

But we never did go back to that park.

Don't get me wrong, my mum is still my hero, still someone that I look up to, but I wish I could talk to her about Eric. To gloat about how I feel. To tell her that I'm finally at that stage where Robbie is behind me, and I can see the next day. But I can't, and that breaks my heart.

Over the past three weeks, I've honestly contemplated sitting her down and explaining how much he means to me. That no matter how dangerous she deems him, I feel safe with Eric by my side. That on numerous occasions when I've felt myself falling apart, he was the one to hold me until I stopped crying, until I fell asleep, made me laugh while hyperventilating because of a goddamn shower cubicle.

I want her to share my happiness, not break it. I want her to cuddle me when I feel overwhelmed with emotions, that it's normal to feel this way about a boy, and to tell me that she's proud of me.

But she will never be proud of me, or happy, or anything for as long as Eric is the cause.

Belinda had come into my room that day to wash the windows, while he held me under the falling water. Thankfully, he wasn't taking me up against the shower wall or she would've heard how loud I could moan his name at different octaves. Then we would have really been screwed.

She isn't fond of Eric.

I had admitted to him exactly what Robbie had said in a whisper so she wouldn't hear us, explained that he read his file, that someone on the inside shouldn't be trusted. But Eric just snorted and told me he'd deal with it while his hand slipped between my legs, curling his fingers inside of me, and covering my mouth while he made me unravel from his touch.

With training cancelled and no opportunities for us to meet up, it's been torture. The camping idea had been shut down because Eric didn't feel comfortable with it, knowing that there may be a snake. Gareth has taken over, but his place is too small to set down the flooring or to even swing a cat in, so we had to go to the sports facility that's newly opened in VIP. I don't think he was too happy when I flipped him over my hip and pinned him to the mats in front of a small group.