Lockwood City: The Tale of Eloise

Fourteen

The Plot in You- Enemy

Eloise:

Irish Goodbye is playing from the speakers Blitz has installed all over the house. Elias and I played rock paper scissors for the study. We tied up twelve times and I agreed to give him half the study. Today, I am setting up my computer. He's on the other side of the room setting up his own setup. He has a white and silver color scheme. Mine is black and orange.

"Umm- do you have TVs?" I ask him. He looks up at me.

"How the f**k did you finish building your desk so fast?" he asked almost annoyed. I laugh, looking over at the instruction sheet he put down on the other side of the room. "No. I just have the two monitors,"

"Mind if I use the middle space for mine? I play console sometimes," I point at the empty wall space about the giant window.

"You have a TV for a console?"

"I have two. One for my PS5 and one for my Xbox,"

"Why do you have both?" he shakes his head.

"Elena gave me the PS5 and Blitz got me the Xbox. I mostly watch the news and live stock anyway,"

"Which one is better?"

"Neither, I have a PC,"

"You're saying your PC is superior to both of these?"

"Yes, sir. I am," I smirk looking back at the box with all my stuff in it.

He chose some of the furniture for the living room. As much as we told Victoria no, she's out there fixing everything for us. Jax is with her. He's a really funny guy. Very outspoken like his mother but also a lot more respectful than her, like his dad.

"Sir?" he scoffs.

"Sorry, I-" no, I can't tell him I said that because that's what I call my father when he's asking me annoying questions about my toys. I rather it be flattering than weird. "It slipped,"

"Let's not go there," he goes back to building his desk.

"Because I followed the instructions," I answer his first question. He leaned back letting his head drop forward before he looked at me with a glare. "Your instruction sheet is on the shelf over there,"

"Thank you," he grins menacingly and turns back to his desk.

"Oh, my god you have not changed at all," I laugh. "You've always been hella hard-headed,"

"Me? What about you? You did a burnout in the L.C. Tower's lobby to prove a point to your father," he shoots back defensively.

"I will never stop making my father want to strangle me," because he's the alpha and I am his favorite kid. Pushing the boundaries of what I am allowed to get away with is kind of a hobby of mine. And my siblings.

"That's a kink," he snorts.

"What?" I burst into laughter and shake my head. "Oh, no! Why did you say that? Now I have to stop," we're both laughing now. "I walked right into that,"

"What the f**k?" he sighs and turns away.

He seems frustrated. He feels a lot all the time. It's a little hard to keep up, the only constant is the hot anger inside of him. I'm beginning to like it. His warmth. I have a better understanding of it than I do my own but I still want to know more.

"You okay?"

"How is this even possible?" he asks and sits on the floor almost under his half-built desk. I crouch down and sit on the floor under my desk. My head is slightly slanted, but I can't raise the desk right now, I haven't plugged it into the wall. "I haven't seen you in almost twenty years and it feels like you've always been there. I feel like I'm home. I'm relaxed. That's not something I'm used to. I don't let my guard down like this for anyone,"

I see. He doesn't like feeling vulnerable. That's kind of a luxury, I guess. He's never had it stripped away. I remember the day I was dragged into that cell. I was pulling, scratching, biting, kicking, to try and get away. I refused to believe that I had been snatched from my own home. I fought every step of the way. I took those hits and returned them as best I could. I never stopped fighting.

It's heartbreaking when you realize, you aren't strong enough. When you realize that this time, you're not going to be able to save yourself from what comes next. There's no talking your way out of it. It's even worse when you give into that helplessness to leave it in the hands of someone else. Holding on is the hardest thing to do. I remember trying to find anything to hold onto my faith in my parents.

By the time it was over, there was nothing left but the idea of darkness. I had brushed up against it repeatedly and I hated that I couldn't quite reach it. That they brought me back every time.

"I'm flattered," I admit. I scoot a little closer and stay still a few inches from the comfort of my desk. "I feel the same way. I feel like we're back in your room and I want to tell you everything. But, it's a little different now. I'm scared to tell you everything,"

"You can. You know that right? You can tell me everything. It's not going to change a single thing," he inches a little closer to me as well. I feel like a little kid. My god, I haven't felt like a kid in so long.

"Will you tell me everything?" I ask.

"Whatever you want to know," he nods.

"Tell me about your mom. Why would you hide that? From me of all people,"

He looks away with a little smile spread across his lips. It's an odd sensation to want to comfort someone. Especially when I've rejected all forms of it. It's strange enough to have my body shaking slightly. It's a nervous tremble. Not one of fear.

"I was a kid and you were super f*****g perfect. I was embarrassed. I still am. My mother didn't want to be with her mate because he was a beta," he doesn't look up at me. His attention or rather his distant look is fixated on the window. I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around my knees. "I didn't think you'd understand. I didn't want you to feel bad for me,"

"Kind of like you don't feel bad about what those guys did to me?" I whisper. The heat in my chest intensifies. It's anger. "I think I would have been angry at her too. I am actually. I'm mad at her now. She used to be one of my favorite adults,"

"She was? Why?" he's looking at me now.

"She was a really good beta female. They named us together. We're Elias, Eloise, Elliot, and Elena because of her. She gave me you. And now I'm mad at her for hurting you. For betraying us," I look down at the stitching of my jeans and back up a little under the desk. "Something good came out of it, though,"

"What?" he scoffed.

"You have a brother," I look up meeting his apple-green eyes. The light from the window is shining on him making his eyes look like they're glowing. My heart is racing. "Don't move a muscle," I say sliding all the way back to get my camera.

"What are you doing?" he laughs.

"Don't move," I say turning it on and adjusting the lens. "Look straight ahead,"

"Okay," he smiles.

"Come on serious face,"

He licks his lips and does as I ask. I snap his picture from different angles and go sit next to him to show him. The song that's playing is called Evergreen by Omar Apollo. It feels weird to have someone in the room with me while that song plays. Particularly him.

"The light was shining on me," he smirks.

"Look at the way your eyes glow. You have little specs of silver in there. That's so cool," I zoom in on his face.

"Your eyes are literally silver," he shakes his head.

"No, my eyes are blue with dark hues of gray. My sister swears they're made of snowflakes. My brother's too. Well, one of them. You have romance novel boy eyes,"

"You're f*****g with me again aren't you?" he shakes his head with a smirk stretching on the right side of his lips. It has to be criminal for him to be this handsome. I don't remember him being this cute when we were kids.

"No," I laugh. "I am dead serious right now. Dead ass if you will,"

"Who taught you how to flirt like that?" he asks with a huge grin on his face.

The way he smiles is pretty. It lights up the room. I bet it's not something that happens often. He's way too serious to smile like this for anyone. There's a slight wrinkle between his eyebrows from his constant scowling. Not very deep but it's there. I get up to put my camera away.

"Is that what's happening? I thought were hanging out," flirting? Is that why I'm nervous? Why my hands are clammy? I, Eloise Lockwood, am flirting? Am I good at it?

"You flirt-you flirt like your sister," he says. What? My sister? Not what I wanted to hear.

"Has she ever flirted with you?" I look back at him.

"No," he laughs. "But I've seen her do it. It's Ivy League top test scores chick flirting. Like you know you're the clear option and no one else matters because no one else is better,"

"I am an Ivy League top test scores chick," I remind him. "You do know that I didn't go outside but I do know people. Classmates, professors, coworkers, gamer friends, etcetera,"

"Why didn't you just leave?" he asks. "It seems, to me at least, like you wanted to run away,"

"I did. I do," I admit. "Do you remember when you taught me how to skateboard?"

"I do. Biggest mistake. You broke your arm the next day,"

"Do you remember how my body would shake the first couple of times I put both my feet on the board?" he nods. "It feels like that but instead of you holding me steady, my dad was pushing me. It felt like I was standing on the edge and he was trying to shove me over. I know he means well, but he's an asshole. My mom isn't any better. The more therapists they brought in, the worse it got. I wasn't the only one that changed.

"Elliot became the way he did because he wanted to help me carry the weight. He wanted to show me that he was there and I don't know why he thought I was perfect. His OCD is insane. His eyebrows are micro-bladed so they never look out of shape. His chains are always organized from longest to shortest. He has this little clip thing that holds them in the order on the back of his neck.

"Elena just pulled away from everyone. She said f**k it you guys deal with this s**t. She renounced her Lockwood titles and stayed away from us as much as she could. My parents fight all the time. They rarely ever sleep in the same place.

"I felt like I had done enough to them. I did whatever they wanted. Anything to stop the guilt. A lot of people died because of me. Even if I had left, I couldn't outrun it. I can see and hear everything around me but I'm still there. In that cell. It's all over me. When I first got back I wanted to get it off. I would scratch at myself and I had to be restrained.

"I've tried so f*****g hard to forget. To distract myself but nothing works. If anything things are worse than ever. I'm just tired of getting the same result. This is my final attempt. You were the first person I wanted to see. At school, I mean. I wanted to look for you. I wanted to meet Tiffany. Your friends. I also want to meet Savage and Emo but I think I have to drive or get on a plane for them. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"No, I mean yeah but it's fine. I understand," he's standing right in front of my desk now. The table is the only thing between us. "I used to ask your parents to let me see you every day for six years,"

"I know. Elena would tell me. She said your dad made you stop when your beta duties dwindled,"

"Did you ask?" he whispers placing his hands on my desk. His scent is all over now. The more of it I take in, the more I feel like I'm shattering. I was able to sleep with him in the same room last night.

"No," I shake my head. I know that hurt him. "Elena would just tell me about you. I never asked. I didn't want her to tell you about me. I guess you can say that I was embarrassed,"

"Embarrassed? Of what?" he shakes his head.

"Because I gave up," hot tears fill my eyes. They slide down my face, a cruel reminder of my weakness. "How do you tell your best friend you rather be dead than ever look him in the eyes again?" I wipe the tears away and push the ache in my chest away with a growl. "f**k. You're really good at this,"

"At what?" he asks. His body is trembling.

I go around the table to stand in front of him. I'm going to regret this all day, and well into the night. I know it but I think we both need this. I step into him and wrap my arms around his waist. He stiffens up a little but then returns it. I hold my breath to keep myself from crying again.

"I missed you," I whisper against his chest and back away unable to look up at him.

"I missed you too," he says.

"I'm-" I sigh feeling angry at myself. "I'm going to go shower. I can't-"

"It's okay. Go ahead,"

I just storm out of the room feeling like the weight of the world is pressing down on me. It's crushing me. As soon as I'm in the bathroom I start the cold water and step under it. I can't even take my clothes off. I drop to my knees under the spray needing the anxiety to turn into cold ripples. I need it all to go away. I need to be numb again. It's too hot. Way too hot. I can't have him this close. I can't. It's too much.