I circled the contents of my dinner around my plate restlessly with my fork. My appetite was nonexistence, much like the conversation throughout the whole of dinner. My mother sat uncomfortably watching the glares that were being tossed across the table by myself and my father, the tension in the room palpable. I shifted my attention toward the outside; the dark had already begun to seep into the daylight, with the days becoming shorter as we neared closer into winter. I could make out a few silhouettes circling the perimeter of the garden, their attention focused solemnly on the task at hand, despite the harsh wind that lacerated at their exposed skin. Subconsciously, I found myself searching for the ruffled head of curls that I had grown so accustomed to, having not been certain of his whereabouts since this afternoon.
As if being aware of my train of thought, my mother attempted to break the silence, "Where's Luke this evening Adelaide?"
My response was cut short by my father's suggestive tone, "Yeah, where is he? He doesn't usually have a problem staying away."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I defended aggressively.
"What I mean is that boy needs to know his place in this organisation-"
"Philip," my mother hopelessly warned.
"No Julie, this needs to be said. He needs to keep himself to himself and stop poisoning Adelaide's mind with matters that don't concern him."
"I don't care if you think that they don't concern him directly, because they bloody well concern me. At least he has the guts to be honest with me, instead of lying through his teeth," I seethed, slamming my hands onto the table in front of me.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again Adelaide, he had no right."
"And I suppose that you had the right to hide Bennett's death from me? Hmm?" My anger was uncontrollable at this stage and my voice reflected this, bouncing from wall to wall at an ear-splitting volume.
My father sighed. "Don't over exaggerate this Adelaide."
"Over exaggerate?" I scoffed in disbelief. "You know what forget it. I'm done with this. I'm done listening to your excuses dad. This is your fault so stop trying to palm it onto Luke."
I heaved my body up, striding toward the door in a haste but my feet were soon driven to an abrupt stop at the continuation of my father's voice, "He's just like Bennett you know, and we all saw how that ended, Adelaide."
The haze of pure animosity that surged throughout my mind at his words acted as a prevention from thinking twice about slamming the side of my fist into the wall closest to me.
The room fell instantly silent but I refused to lift my gaze from my hand, which I had left to fall limply against my side. My knuckles were torn from the impact, blood dispensing from numerous places but the pain that emitted from the area was forgotten behind the fury that encased my thoughts.
"How dare you," my voice was barely audible, only a sinister whisper, yet I was certain that with the lack of sound that circled the room, it would have been heard.
I hadn't anticipated a response so instead I turned to fully face the wall before savagely plunging my fist toward it. I fought back the instinct to wince at the impact, being grateful for the release it had given me. Taking another breath, I gave myself little to no time to comprehend what I was doing before striking my fist repeatedly into the wall.
A chorus of shouts swirled around my ears, none of which were accepted into my mind, with my thoughts being focused solemnly onto the pent up anger. A signal from my father led to numerous guards attempting to retain my movements, but I wasn't going to stop: I needed to do this.
I ripped myself from their grip, watching the blood from my hands as it drained the wall. A small dent had begun forming, my repetitive actions taking a toll onto the surface.
The voices began to increase in volume, each battling for more influence than the other as they begged for me to stop. However, only one was dominant within my mind. "Keep your elbow straight Adelaide."
I deviated my eye line toward the door upon hearing his voice. Luke stood with his side leant against the door frame; his arms flung over his chest as he watched me.
"It'll have a bigger impact," he stated softly, flittering his eyes momentarily around the now silent room. My parents along with the guards watched in utter disbelief, before Luke landed his gaze back on me. He flicked his head over toward the wall in front of me, motioning for me to strike again.
Taking note of his advice, I slung my arm back before forcefully hurling my knuckles through the plaster board of the wall.
I shook off the pain in my wrist, taking a moment or two to recollect both myself and my breathing. I then proceeded to stalk out of the room, refusing to look back as I brushed past Luke in the doorway, catching him by surprise as I took hold of his hand in the process.
We made our way out from the room, following the corridors in the direction of the snug room, though I knew that wasn't where we were heading. Instead, Luke turned toward the door opposite this room, leading into a reasonably sized bathroom.
Without saying a word, I heaved myself onto the counter, knowing exactly what Luke needed to do. He'd stood by as I inflicted pain upon myself, but he certainly wasn't going to let my wounds remain unattended to.
He searched through the cupboards until he found a first aid kit, tipping the contents onto the counter space next to me. I watched him intently as he ripped open a pack of anaesthetic wipes before reaching for my right hand, caressing his thumb over my swollen knuckles.
"You didn't need to stick up for me Adelaide," he mumbled, his attention focused onto my wounds.
"I wasn't going to just stand by and let my father talk about you like that Luke," I defended, my voice coarse and tired.
"What he said was right in some respects," Luke countered. "I influence you too much, I see it every day with the things you do. It certainly wouldn't do you any harm to take some time away from me."
"What?" I asked in disbelief. "You can't be serious right now? You're the only person around here that actually understands me, to hell you understand me more that I do most of the time. I'm not letting go of that."
"Are you okay?" he requested gently, ignoring my comment as he finally met my gaze. I nodded, not willing to let my emotions out.
He continued to clean my knuckles, cleansing them from blood to reveal the deep purple that had already begun to infest upon my skin. "To hell, of course you aren't."
A single tear fled along my cheek, Luke's finger catching it as he placed his hands either side of my face, bending his knees slightly so that he was my height. "I'll be fine Luke."
"It's okay to let it out sometimes Adelaide, that might be what you need."
"I think I did just let it all out," I laughed lightly, forcing Luke to break out into a small grin.
"I didn't see the point in asking you to stop. I knew that you weren't going to," he admitted.
"I had no intention of, until you spoke up but even then I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I heard what you'd said."
"Well can we go with laugh because there's nothing I hate more than seeing you cry?" he smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
