Unhelpful Answers

Chapter Six

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me away from the tall room, whenever he touched me he left a tingling sensation on my skin which raised goosebumps and made my heart race. I tried to ignore the persistent longing to kiss him; it was strange this boy was an enemy but I felt a bizarre draw to him. He led me out the room back into a modern hall, the floor was a bright white and the walls were zebra print, the chairs were black and there were green ferns in black pots. He didn’t say anything as he sat me down and then placed himself opposite me on another chair; he sat back, folded his arms and smiled a crooked smile which sent my heart racing again.

“Welcome to my small abode,” he gestured to the house, “or should I say, welcome to the home of the Fallen.”

“What do you want with me?” I asked, “What does anybody want from me?”

“We just want your company, for now,” he hinted and grinned again, “Can I just say again how please I am that we find ourselves together again,”

“Again?” I asked, he winked,

“I trust you do not remember our last meeting,”

“It’s the only thing I do remember from before,” I challenged,

“You don’t remember any of the rest of it?” Zac asked utterly surprised, I shook my head and let out a long breath, “No wonder you’re acting weird,” he laughed it off,

“You talk as if you know me,” I said, he nodded,

“We used to be quite good friends,” he answered distracted. I watched as he thought about something, I observed his dark curls, black eyes and tanned skin. His muscles were evident even through his shirt and shorts; he looked slightly holy with a beautiful smile and one discrete dimple. I looked away when I our eyes met and I began to try and piece all the information I had together, I knew that Zac and Oliver were not the greatest friends, more like mortal enemies. They were both…angels. It felt weird to say ‘angels’, I had been pulled into a world of the supernatural but the odd thing was that I felt at home here. I knew Zac was from the Fallen and they had ‘marked’ me with a scar which meant they were somehow in control of my movements and thoughts. I knew the Guardian angels were the good side and the Fallen were the bad, but I didn’t know why, Zac seemed perfectly nice, almost human. He was still quiet as I pondered over whether Oliver and Ben were looking for me, and I wondered what was going to happen next to me. I had no idea of what lay in store for my future, I felt trapped in the present as I could only remember a week back, a sudden thought hit me. If I had lost my memory then why could I remember other things like the equation to a quadratic formula, how did I know that a haploid cell had only half the number of chromosomes? How did I remember anything? Surely if I had lost my memory I would have forgotten everything, not just my life. I couldn’t remember how or when I learnt the formula, but I knew I knew it. I was about to speak but Zac beat me to it,

“Let me see your wrist,” he asked, I automatically pulled my sleeve over my scar,

“Why?” I asked, he rolled his eyes,

“You know…” he probed; I played dumb even though his bottomless eyes could evidently see into my soul,

“No,” I replied firmly. My hand suddenly extended away from me, my palm facing the ceiling, I grabbed it with my other hand and tried to pull it back, Zac smiled,

“I see,” he said gazing at my wrist and the bright red scar of a broken heart on it, suddenly my arm dropped and landed on my leg and then I had control of it again. I rubbed it and hid the scar again, “I am guessing that the memory loss is a sort of side effect of our marking,” he smiled, “and I suppose your friend Oliver managed to explain to you about our little fight,”

“He mentioned it briefly,” I muttered still awestruck by his ability to move my arm,

“Good.” Zac stood up and offered me a hand, I ignored it and stood up myself,

“Please can you just take me back?” I asked exasperated, pain flickered across Zac’s face and he took my hand comfortingly,

“I am so sorry Isabella,” he said sincerely, I jerked away from his touch as a shock of static rose up my arm, he looked hurt and my heart yearned to comfort him, but I didn’t, he was a stranger to me. He sighed and looked me straight in the eye; his black eyes swam with an emotion. “I’m going to be the good guy here; I’m going to tell you everything.”

The End

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