The Calling (Aro x Marcus x Caius)

κεφάλαιο βιβλίου • 10

The room was silent, except for the the steady clinking of silverware against glass. It was painfully loud in such a quiet state, but I knew that anymore noise to balance it out would end up becoming easily and quickly overwhelming. 

"I'm not hungry."

Marcus frowned, setting the spoon back down in the bowl of soup that Esme had made for me. In any other circumstance, I would have been thrilled at being offered free, hot and ready food for my full consumption. Now I just wanted to throw a fit because I had to eat it.

"You need to gain your strength, Stellina." Marcus spoke, voice as soft as ever. It made me angry to hear, to know he was treating me like I'd break any second, but I knew that I might. I knew I couldn't tolerate anything other than his soft whisper. "My vocal cords are torn, Marcus, I'm not injured or broken-" a cough interrupted me, and Marcus reached out to carefully steady my shoulder as I covered my mouth. It hurt to cough, it hurt to speak, but even more, it hurt to exist.

I was trying desperately not to remember the sight of blood, of torn ligaments strewn over shattered wood. Focusing on soup as if it was my greatest enemy was all I had in the moment. "Here." Looking up with pained eyes, I focused on the cup Marcus was holding. ".. thanks." Reaching out, I took the glass from him, glancing into the cup.

Apple juice.

I hated apple juice.

I preferred grape juice, but I knew that if that's what I had seen glancing into the cup, I probably would have burst into tears. So I quickly lifted the cup to my lips, trying not cough into the cup as I drank. Trying to speak so much had destroyed my already torn vocal cords, and anything I successfully managed to say was rewarded by coughs that made me want to slam my head against the wall.

Movement caught my eye, but by the time I looked over at the doorway, whatever had been there was gone. I knew the Cullens were probably lurking outside the kitchen, listening to everything that was said and done. Lowering the glass, I scowled, earning Marcus's sigh. "They're just worried about you." Fastening my eyes on him, I glared, Marcus ignoring the look as he took my cup.

"Eat."

Before I could protest or glare at him again, Marcus rose from his seat, walking out of the kitchen so gracefully it was like he was gliding. The cloak probably added to the effect. Focusing back on the soup, a frown tugged at my lips. I wasn't hungry. I knew I needed to eat- logically I did- but any appetite I'd ever had seemed to vanish. I almost wished it would come back, just so I could focus on something as trivial as eating.

"Here."

I jolted as the bowl of soup vanished, Rosalie right in front of me as she slammed a plate onto the table. "What the fuck, Rosalie-" I cursed, holding my heart which I was sure had picked up speed from the sudden appearance. I knew I must have zoned out for her to just randomly appear like that, and the realisation made my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. This was like falling asleep in math class and having the teacher slam a book on your desk- embarrassing in every way possible.

"If you're not going to eat the soup, eat something else." Rosalie glared at me, and I couldn't help but return the action. Rosalie was as bitter as ever, but at the same time.. seemed softer. Stupid pity. Slowly lowering my gaze, I observed the plate she practically destroyed by putting down, my brow raising at the sight. "These are fruits." "Brilliant observation, Holmes." I couldn't help but snort.

"Don't mock me, don't you know I'm suffering post traumatic stress disorder? I'm delicate." I spoke sarcastically, glancing up at Rosalie. "Aren't we all, princess. Now eat the fruit before I force feed you." Rosalie released the plate, carrying the soup over to the sink. I couldn't help but flinch as she practically threw it in, the crash of the glass against the metal sink hurting my soul.