Elijah eyes narrowed further, studying my resolve. "I’m not here for you Phoebe. I’m here for Annabelle." The dismissal in his tone felt like a blow, and for a moment, I felt lost again.
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I felt the weight of Liam stare, a warmth that belied the chill of the room. Everything inside me screamed to stay quiet, to remain a ghost in this tense moment, yet a flicker of courage bubbled to the surface.
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Phoebe looking to the bed and goes, what? She pointed a finger at Elijah and I, you should have told me Elijah is your kind of man.
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Drop it, nothing happened between us, Elijah spoke hurriedly like he was afraid i will say something that doesn't add up. I looked at him warily, searching for a lie in his words and asking myself if he meant it or was he just shielding me from finding the truth.
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"Elijah wouldn’t lie to me!" I insisted, half pleading and half praying its true. Usually, every time we had a conversation, his words was always pirouetting into my consciousness with perfect clarity.
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Now, I felt more like a confused extra, standing in a scene where everyone else knew their lines, and I somehow ended up with a banana.
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“Of course he wouldn’t!” my sister mocked, rolling her eyes, as if we were on a bizarre talk show where absurdity was the main course. “He’s practically a saint she said crossing her arms as if declaring victory in a debate. The wind howled again, and I wondered if it had something to do with her dramatic flair.
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“Maybe he’s just trying to be… uh, nice?” I stammered, thoroughly not enjoying the back and forth game.
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"Of cause, dear sister. The kind of kindness that leaves a red mark on your neck.
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