Purple (Cole Stewert x Oc)

Chapter 7

Elizabeth's P. O. V
I pressed my face against the crack between the door and wall, watching his every move.
This was really creepy in a way. But I didn't really care.
After what seemed like ages he climbed back onto his feet and approached the dresser beside the bed. He opened the drawer, looking for something.
He had a bottle of wine in his hand. He shook the bottle, and let out an unsatisfied grunt before tossing the empty bottle to the side. I winced as the bottle shattered and shards bounced off the floor.
Cole kept looking for a bottle. Why was he looking for wine so desperately? It's not even that important.
He finally retrieved a full bottle and unscrewed the cap impatiently, before raising it to his lips and taking a long drink.
I cringed at how easily he drank that, full of purpose and full of dependency. He deoends on whiskey to drown out his problems. Why does that remind me of something from my old life?
I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to remember. But every memory slipped through my fingers like liquid, as if they weren't supposed to be there in the first place.
I don't know why I wanted to know more about myself. I don't even know why I care when my parents eventually gave up their imperfect child in the end.
Did they even try?
Do I even have parents?
I frowned at the thought, and tried to ignore the disturbing feeling sparking in my stomach.
Do I?
Maybe when all of this is over, I can try find them. Maybe- if this mess ever ends- they'll want me back.
Of course I know they probably won't...
But that doesn't really mean anything to me. My whole life I've been alone. Maybe I had a family once, but I can't picture myself being smothered in hugs and kisses. From the first day the truth of my powers started to ruin my life and tint my identity, kids were looking up to me for support. They depended on me for comfort and support and not once did they realise I had no one like that.
But now I do.
And I think that person is Cole, the idiotic Red who depends on alcohol to wash away his memory and help him start fresh. Does he know there are other ways to help him?
Does he know that I want to be there for him, so he doesn't have to face things by himself.
Does he know that he can talk to me?
Jeez, where did all that come from? I've never been so sentimental inside my head since..
I can't remember.
I. CAN'T. REMEMBER.
Why can't I remember?
I didn't realise I was crying until something hot slapped my hand hand. A tear.
I touched my face disbelievingly. I'm crying.
I'm crying for a reason that's unknown confusion.
I turned on to my back and leaned my head against the wall.

Cole's P. O. V
I stopped drinking the second I heard a sob ring out from the bathroom. Was she... Was she...?
I scrubbed my lips clean of the bitter taste and set the green glass bottle to the side, as in on a table.
I suspiciously approached the bathroom door, measuring my steps cautiously.
Not because I was scared she'd hit me if she knew I was spying.
Ok, maybe for that exact reason. Just because I'm a red and she's a blue doesn't mean anything.
Another pained sob rang out. She was crying.
Elizabeth was crying.
Why?
I wanted to open the door and take her into my arms and tell her everything will be okay. I wanted to stroke her hair and rock her back and forth.
Why the hell did I want to do that? Trust me, I have no idea.
Something was restraining me from doing all those things. I happy that something was doing so, but I wasn't so sure that I like the fact that that something was a feeling.
A feeling that I didn't recognise.
The door flew open and I stumbled back.
Her eyes were tinged red and her hair was messier than usual.
"Are you-"
"Okay? Yeah, I'm fine" she snapped. I watched as she stormed out the door.
"Where are you going?" I yelled.
"I need fresh air. I'll be back before you know it" she growled.
"Sunshine-"
"Don't call me that, dammit!"
The door slammed closed. What did I do wrong? Did I say something?
It's not like I care.
I don't care about the fact that I want to follow her.
Screw it. I do care.
I care about the fact that she has been treated like sh*t by the PSF's. Even though she hasn't told me, she has the scars that aren't afraid to talk.
I care that she's been crying and I have no idea why.
I care because...
I don't know. I just care because I care.
Somehow I'm not satisfied with those words though.

Sorry this chapter is short. I have a serious case of jet lag and I hope you can forgive me.
Comment what you think.
Special announcement:
Since I feel incredibly guilty for not updating, you have the chance to decide what the next chapter will be about.
If I choose yours, and not the other user's ideas, you will get a special mention.
That's it. Later Gator.