The Hurt Game

❧ twenty-seven

"I'm not going anywhere till I know you're okay." His voice was gentle and it was laced with worry. His shoulder bumped against mine as he sat down next to me. His arm was wrapped around my shoulder as his fingers tangled in my hair, messaging my scalp.

I didn't say anything, but I let my head drop on his shoulder. I curled into him as tears were thick in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. It was difficult to breathe, too.

"Do you trust me?" Royden whispered after a few moments and I had calmed down. Nothing swayed anymore, but I was still hiding. I didn't want him to see me like this, not now and not ever.

"Of course," I said, my voice as low as his. He didn't reply, but he shifted so I had to lift my head. My face was covered by my hair and I stayed staring at my converses.

Delicately his fingers brushed along my cheek and tugged my hair behind my ears. I turned my head away from him, but the bags under my eyes were visible and he had seen them.

"You look exhausted. What happened?" he questioned again. I shook my head, refusing to speak about what happened or to look at him. His hand slid underneath my chin, gripped it with two fingers and pulled my head towards him. I was too weak to struggle against him and instead closed my eyes.

Silence. Complete and utter silence. Only a little hitch coming from him reached my ears. Carefully and so lightly I barely felt it, his thumb brushed against my skin, the place where it was bruised and red. My father had left a good mark behind.

My eyes fluttered open. Never in my entire time of knowing Royden, had I ever seen his eyes so dark. His jaw was set. His features were the sharpest I'd ever seen. His lips were in a thin line. I had never seen him this furious.

His eyes met mine and somehow the dark gaze wrapped around my heart and warmed me, like it awakened a friendly fire within me. There were so many emotions swimming in his eyes―concern, pain, anger, worry, adoration, revenge.

"Who hit you?" Royden asked. His voice was low, dangerous and I knew he was going to make someone pay. That someone was my father.

I shook my head a little. Tears welled in my eyes again. Fear gripped at my neck, yanking me down, suffocating me.

"Please..." I trailed off. I didn't want to tell him.

"Waverly, who laid their hand on you?" His voice was stern yet still gentle, like they could break me. Words could. "I need to know."

"It's... It doesn't matter."

"Like hell!" he shouted. I winced as his voice bounced around in my head. My eyes squeezed shut and I grabbed my head with my hands, curling in on myself. I whimpered in pain.

Royden sighed and tugged my hands away from my head. He was gentle, much different than his voice had been. They intertwined with my fingers. I met his dark brown eyes.

"You matter, okay? You matter so much to me, so please... please tell me who hurt you," he murmured.

I shook my head as my throat closed and tears threatened to spill. "I can't..." I whispered. My eyes averted away from him, back to my shoes.

His eyes remained on me, staring at me as if he could look inside my head. Maybe he could. He could read me better than anyone, even better than Daniela. He cared.

Sharply he inhaled and I looked back at him. He shook his head as his eyes glistened. "Don't tell me it is your father," he said. He had figured it out.

I swallowed thickly and looked away again. There were no words to explain what had happened. It was my fault anyway. I shouldn't have provoked him. I should have eaten my plate clean, or at last I shouldn't have talked back.