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Leave? Why do they keep trying to fucking leave!

Izel hops down, gritting her teeth. I move forward to help her when she smacks my hand away. “Don’t.”

“Izel…”

“No, I’m not any of your business,” she spits, limping around me. I’m motionless as I hear Gabriel helping her upstairs.

One step forward, two steps back.

12

Zion

Istandagainstherdresser, watching Izel as she sleeps. Her mouth hangs open as she scrunches her nose. Her hands fist the blanket for dear life as if she’s having some sort of nightmare. Her brows furrow moments before she lets out a gasp and sits up straight in bed. Izel’s hand grips the shirt against her chest, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to slow her breathing down.

“Izel,” I say as softly as I can. Only she squeezes her eyes even tighter as if she’s still stuck inside her nightmare.

She doesn’t say anything, shaking her head slightly. “He was hurting Gabriel,” she whispers. “They both were hurting him, and I couldn’t let them. I couldn’t let them do what they were going to do.” Her eyes finally open and look up at me. “They were going to sell him; he doesn’t know that. But they were going to sell him.”

That’s why they were running. Why she was protecting him, it all made sense. “You’re not leaving,” I blurt out.

“We shouldn’t stay in one place for too long,” she mutters, clutching the blanket against her chest.

“No one will find you here, Izel.”

“Why don’t you ever take your mask off?” she asks, changing the subject.

“I told you,” I mutter, my hands gripping the side of the dresser for dear life. Stopping myself from reaching her.

“Yeah, hide yourself from others, you’ve told me. But why can’t you take it off around us?”

I didn’t have an answer for her.

“Great, alright. So, we’re supposed to just stay here with some masked man who we know nothing about? How is that fair?” Izel questions, throwing the blanket off her before standing up. “Take the mask off.”

“No.”

I really sound like an asshole; I know I do. I have no excuse for not taking my mask off. The fear she might not like what she sees. Not only is my body covered in scars, but so is my face. My face is probably the worst of all.

“Zion…” she whispers, stepping towards me.

“No,” I growl. Having enough, I throw the door open and leave. I don’t need her asking why I won’t show my face. I don’t need her questioning me. I especially don’t need her trying to be sweet when I need to let them leave. They both just need to go, that way I can get back to my life.

I just reach my bedroom when Izel grabs my arm stopping me.

“You don’t get to just run off when I’m speaking to you,” Izel hisses.

I sigh, hanging my head. Ma ought to beat my ass from the way I’m treating her. There's no explanation for my actions, I’m well aware. But being around her makes my brain just shut off and nothing but her exists in it.

“Zion, you will listen to me!” she growls, yanking on my arm.

“I don’t want to listen to you.” I swing around stepping forward. Izel stops in her tracks, eyes blown wide and taking a large step back.

“Fine, then we’re leaving!”

“No.” Why can’t I just let her go? I want to rip my hair out. I can’t even explain to her what I want. I want her to go but I can’t let her. I need her to be near me to breathe.I want to make it impossible to breathe without me, but it appears I’m the one who can’t breathe. I need her.

“Oh my god, you’re so, so, so infuriating,” Izel screams, fisting her hands. Her face flushes red as her eyes turn to slits.