2. So Fragile

Oceane's Pov

Heaving in short and fast breaths, I lean against a wall, my fingers digging into my chest. It hurts so bad. My head, my chest, my legs–every part of me is in dire pain. 

I think I lost him. Finally.

I’ve been running for so long– too long that I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’ve been running for so long that even the night has caught up with me.

“Just a little bit longer.” I encourage myself. Shutting my eyes tightly, I drag in a long breath, exhaling shakily. I spin on my heels to begin walking when I bump into something rigid. Something hard. Something with a heartbeat. Something with a pulse.

Realization hit me. It’s not a something, but a someone.

“Did you have a swell time?” He questions, his cold eyes trained intently on me, his lips stretched into a grin.

My bones wobble.

I almost scream out a series of curse words but force myself to silently take whatever life throws at me. I know it in the back of my head how much I’ve tested this man’s patience, but here I am, still breathing.

Alive and unwell. Still, alive.

He leans his shoulder against the wall, his eyes, narrowed, glistening with mischievous excitement looking down at me. “I would never have guessed these tiny legs would turn out to be this fast.” He jests, chuckling through each word. 

“Do you want to go again? I had so much fun chasing you through the woods. And I must say, I’ve never felt so alive in such a long time.”

“How are you not even tired?” I ask through heavy breaths. 

“Easy. I’ve worked so hard on building my stamina. My hard work is finally paying off, don’t you think?”

I roll my eyes, proclaiming. “I’ll kill you one day.” It’s my way of expressing my hatred towards the brooding young man. 

Does he care that I hate him? The look of amusement that mar his features is all the answer I need. Angioletto’s response to my soft spoken threat, is a snorted laugh. “So? What do you say we keep going?”

“You’ll give me a head start?” I quirk a questioning brow at him and he nods.

“Mmhmm.”

I nod. “Count to ten.” My tone of voice is commanding. The brooding man surprisingly obeys, scoffing before turning around to begin the countdown.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four. . .”

I quietly dash towards the opposite direction, making sure my breathing is at a controlled pace and my feet patters light against the ground.

I almost silence my own self in order to get away from this monster.

My chest hurts, my throat is dry, my feet are aching, burning from the several scratches, but I don’t stop running.

I run as though my life depends on how fast my legs move. I run with one purpose and one purpose only. To get away from Angioletto.

Fear eats at my soul, but I run.

I feel his shadow catching up to me, but I run even faster.

This act, as painful as it is, provides me with the calmness my soul craves.

By the time I make my way out of the jungle and into the road, I decide against running anymore. This is no longer fun. 

Cold chills course through my bones when I take in my surroundings. It’s dark, eerily quiet, without a single breathing soul in sight.

Tears sting at the corners of my eyes.

He’s nowhere to be seen, the man who hunts me but I feel him in my soul. I can feel him lurking in the shadows. I almost scream at him to come out and put me out of my misery. But I don’t.

Again, this is no fun.

I’m tired, hungry, and my feet hurt.

Leaning my back against a wall, I shut my eyes and calm myself, allowing the nightly breeze cascade through my skin while I enjoy my freedom.

My short lived freedom.

It’s not until five minutes later that I hear the deep rumble of his voice, his breathing calm and sharp, his hum soothing, and his chuckle taunting.

He found you. My head voice singsongs, causing my lips to stretch into a smile.

I had hoped he’d find me.

I don’t open my eyes nor acknowledge his presence. I stay silent and unmoving. 

I’m almost at the verge of sleep when I feel him lift me off the ground fireman style. “So fragile.” 

I hear the deep rumble of his voice and that is all I remember before I drift into the realm of unconsciousness.