Eclipse of the Moon Ch. 07

There was a long silence that was nothing short of torturous. It hung between them, the things unsaid thick enough to steal the breath from her lungs. And yet she couldn't move. She couldn't find the will in her limbs to push past him the way that she needed too. She couldn't even find her voice. It had dissipated the moment his had become present. The moment it had spoken her name, just as it used too, but carrying so much more.

"Lior..."

His voice was heavy. It was trying so hard not to be broken, but Angel could hear the way that it splintered as it carried over the air.

Her knee jerk reaction was to comfort. To soothe. But she couldn't. Not anymore. That voice, as familiar as it was, had changed. It was infected by the past... a past where he had asked her to trust him, and she had, and he had- he had-

"...I can't talk to you."

"Lior, please-" Aaron made to move forward and she instantly, sharply, took a step back. It was as if she had physically slapped him. Because as soon as he saw her retreat, as soon as he saw her afraid and unwilling, he was jarred to a complete stop. His breath tremored as he stood there, silent, but the quiet was doing more damage than the noise ever could.

They had always been able to talk to each other. When the world was going to shit around them, when there was nothing more to be said, there had been comfort in knowing that there would always be a safe port at home.

And now... now that didn't exist.

The safe port was now just another extension of hell. The worst part of it. The part where the person she loved the most in the entire world was now also the person who had caused her the most excruciating pain. And when she looked at him... she couldn't stop herself from remembering it. Every. Single. Moment. The way he had kissed her, and the way his hands had settled on her hips, and the way he had left the room only to come back and-

"-I can't" Lior repeated, breaking the train of thought, "Please, Aaron... just go". She couldn't stand being here. Shame filled her so thickly that there didn't seem to be room enough for anything else. And if Daemon saw that they were talking...

She shuddered. She didn't want to think about what twisted game he would have them play next... and she couldn't take being hurt that way again. Not ever. What he had killed inside her that day was something she knew she'd never get back, and sewn in its place was something, a grotesque and irreparable feeling, that she knew she'd never be rid of. She would willingly sentence her soul to an eternity of being with Daemon if it meant that there would be no more of that specific brand of hurt...

She didn't have to look at Aaron to know that he was barely holding himself together. That something in him had broken that night. Something that couldn't be repaired, only managed. He was looking at her in a way that he never had before, even when she had been in the hospital all those years...

...he looked at her with guilt. And regret. And fear.

He was afraid.

So was she.

Because what did they do now that they were so broken? What did they do with the knowledge that things were never going to be able to go back to the way they were? How did they look at each other anymore without seeing what had happened? And what if... what if it never stopped hurting so goddamn much?

Silent tears ran down her cheeks, the weight of the thoughts making her feel even smaller... even more isolated... even more hopeless...

"Don't do this alone".

Her fingers tightened down by her sides.

Aaron didn't move any closer but he also didn't show any signs of moving away. He seemed to be picking up on her thoughts almost seamlessly... and she wondered, for a moment, if that was because they might have been a mimic of her own.

"I'm not going to let you do this alone".

She bit into the side of her cheek as the feelings swelled under her skin, making it feel too tight. As her lips parted, a stuttered breath escaped them. Words wanted to pass. They did. But she couldn't make them come. She couldn't make them assemble in a way that would express how trapped her felt... or how his offer of help terrified her when she knew how manipulative Daemon could be. And how easily manipulated they both were when it came to each other...

...even now.

"Aaron... just... just stop" came her voice, broken, a slip of a thing that matched exactly how she felt on the outside, "You'll only make it worse. So... so please..." Eyes moved up briefly, barely able to keep steady with the ones that were so desperately trying not to fall apart. It killed her to see him like this. Her Aaron. Her fount of strength since they were just kids. It broke what was left of her into pieces to see him hurt in this way... and to know she couldn't offer anything to help him through it. Because what could she offer when she was just so... so cold on the inside... "please... I'm begging you. Just..." her breathe flickered across her lips, "just stay away from me."

Aaron looked like he had just taken a shot to the gut. But not even the hurt could stop him from pressing forward again, "I can't".

"You have too".

"I won't".

"You have too" Lior replied, more insistent this time, although her gaze kept flickering off to the side to check for any signs that Daemon was arriving.

"Lior, I-"

She didn't let him get any further. She couldn't. And because she couldn't, her voice became a hard snap, "Stop it now. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you."

Aaron pursed his lips.

It was a tone she had never taken with him. Her passiveness had always denied it, even when frustration or anger felt like it was truly unmanageable. But this... this was something else entirely. She understood where the desire to help was coming from. She did. And had it been any other situation other than this one, she would have let his insistence slide... but not now. Not this moment. Fear was too high. It overwhelmed her to think of what could happen if something went wrong. In this moment she was sure that if Aaron succeeded in anything, it would only to be ignite Daemon's thirst to play sadistic games... and that wasn't something that they needed to encourage when it was already something so close to the surface.

She looked to him, feeling wetness against her cheeks that she knew must have been coming from her eyes. His face, thick with hurt, only made the horrible pit in her stomach deepen. She wiped at her eyes quickly with the back of her hands. She didn't want him to feel worse. She didn't want to hurt him more with her tears... and even though she had every right to cry, old habits were hard to break, "...I have to go".

Angel pushed passed him, expecting him to try and stop her... but he didn't. He stood rooted to the spot... something that caused her an incredible amount of relief and an unbearable amount of agony.

Maybe he was giving up on her.

He needed to give up on her.

But, god, she didn't want him too. As much as she knew that pushing him away was the right thing to do, she was terrified of being left alone in a world with only Daemon at its epicenter. The things that she needed to do were not the things that she wanted to do.

He had hurt her more than she could stand. She could barely take looking at him without getting forcibly brought back to that night, and half the time she couldn't bear to be in the same room with him because the memories caused her so much pain. It was goddamn unbearable...

But...

...but she still needed him.

She needed him more than she needed to breathe. She needed her brother despite everything. Needed him to be their even if he couldn't be right beside her anymore. Needed to know that he was there even when she was pushing him away, telling him to go. She needed so badly to know that someone was there, that someone cared, that someone loved her despite how completely broken she was... even if that someone had aided in the breaking.

Because as she slid down the closed door to her room, tears rolling down her eyes and silent sobs wracking her body, she had never felt so unbearably alone.

So incredibly... and utterly... alone.

-----------

"I'm done" Lior murmured, inching a still very full plate of lasagna and caesar salad away from her as she tried not to shift uncontrollably in her seat.

The weight of her parents gaze came down on her with crushing intensity and it wasn't long before familiar words were filling up the space between them.

"You're not done. You've barely touched anything."

"I'm full".

"You haven't eaten enough to be full" her father snapped, his usual calmness quickly replaced by agitation as a very monotonous conversation started to unfold, "You've barely taken two mouthfuls."

She struggled to withhold the flinch that came from his annoyance.

Every night it was the same thing.

Every night they served up food and every night Lior pushed it around her plate, belly churning at the thought. She didn't want it. Everything put on her plate looked grey and unappealing, something that she knew couldn't have been the truth considering how much she had used to like the foods being served up before. But it was definitely the truth now.

She was too exhausted for food. Too depleted. She knew that not eating only played further into that, but... she just couldn't. She couldn't bring the fork up to her mouth another time. Couldn't will herself to chew through a whole plate of food when all she wanted was to throw it against a wall in frustration.

Her fingers curled around the loose fitting material of her shirt, eyes staring through the plate of pasta in front of her.

She wondered if Daemon knew he was killing her...

Angel pushed through the thought, narrowly avoiding the trail of broken thoughts, "I'm not... I'm not feeling good."

"Probably because you haven't been eating" came the impatient response from her dad, although she noticed something flicker behind the angry eyes of her dad. Worry. Concern. Things that only made her stomach tighten more, making her even less hungry and less willing to eat no matter how much she may have wanted to ease the feeling. His gaze never wavered, "I want you to eat at least half of that."

Angel's fingers tightened, "I'm not going to eat if I'm not hungry". She didn't want to do this right now. God, she just wanted to be left alone... that's all she wanted... just a moment of peace... before... before...

She pushed up from the table.

"Angel Stewart, you sit down this instant" her dad boomed, "you haven't been excused-"

"I'm excusing myself" she whispered, slipping away from table, wishing she could have been as invisible at this moment as the ghost she felt like.

She was...angry. Angry that she kept messing up, angry that she had to keep pushing them away, making them upset and worried. But... she was also angry that they didn't understand. Despite knowing that they'd never be able to unless she told them, she still couldn't shake the feeling. All they did was want from her all the time. They wanted their daughter, they wanted things to be the way they were, they wanted their little girl back... she shouldn't have been angry with them for that. She knew she shouldn't. But... but she was.

They didn't understand that she was giving up everything for them... everything.

She didn't have anything else to offer them. If she did, she would have. She couldn't offer them what they wanted because that person, that girl, didn't exist anymore. Angel had tried so many times, so many goddamn times, to convince herself that there was something left... but it felt so much like a lie now. A blatant, unforgiveable lie.

She could only be what she was... and she just didn't know what that was right now.

Her parents called out to her. Followed her. Yelled at her. Threatened things left, right, and center.

It was all white noise that faded out with the passing of time. All she could really recall of it was that the sun had been out when they had started. It wasn't now. And they had gone, finished with their verbal onslaught and probably unsatisfied with the result. She had probably been grounded before they left to go to whatever social obligation they had planned for the night.

It didn't mean anything to her, though. Daemon had made it more than clear that he was the sole proprietor of her time these days...

Blue eyes stared out the window across from her as she lay curled up on her bed. The hairs on the back of her neck alerted her that she was longer alone, although the hand that slipped across her hip and up under her sweater was a much less subtle clue. Angel shivered but didn't move, letting that familiar hand feel across her stomach and up towards her sternum. When his body slid in behind her, she bit into her cheek to stop the loud exhale of her breath.

It was like even thinking his name had summoned him here...

"What are you doing, Angel?"

Her entire body froze on point, as did her voice which struggled to find any kind of power behind it. Her mouth opened, but her voice still didn't sound. When it finally did find its place, it was a quiet whisper that could only be heard because of the absolute quietness of the room, "N-nothing."

He was angry. He only called her by her name when he was annoyed with her... or when he wanted to play one of his twisted games...

"Nothing?"

Lior felt the ice travel down her spine at the guttural tone.

Oh god. God, what had she done now? She hadn't been seeing Aaron. She hadn't even talked to Julian in weeks. Nobody knew what was going on and she had been more then careful when it came to following all his rules to avoid exactly this. His wrath. His anger. His presence... which was now unavoidable.

Daemon turned her onto her back, pressing the full weight of his body against hers and staring down into little lamb eyes that had nowhere to look but right back at him, "I think you're lying to me".

Her chest tightened. She was finding it hard to breath, the heaviness of his body nowhere near as crushing as the weight of eyes that damned her. Her mind raced as she shook her head, failing to keep herself from trembling under his touch, "I'm not. I-I swear I'm not". What did he think she had done? What did he think she was lying about?

Daemon skewered her with his gaze.

Any other words that she might have been getting ready to say froze in her throat at that moment. It was purely self-preservation, knowing from experience that speaking any more would only get her into more trouble. Still, she didn't know what she had done wrong... and because she didn't know, there was no containing the anxiety that was building in her chest, making it impossible to breathe.

"That's what you tell mummy and daddy too, isn't it?" His hand slipped upwards, creating a loose noose around her throat, "You think I don't know when you're lying to me, whore?" He leaned down, so close that she should have been able to feel breath... but there was none, "You think I don't know when you're trying to disappear?"

Lior felt the pressure on her throat... and she was sure he felt her heart beating rapidly against his hand. Disappear? What was he talking about? She was right here -- she was always right here. She hadn't gone anywhere that she wasn't supposed to go...

"Please, Daemon... I-I haven't... I swear I haven't..." she tried not to squirm when his other hand, the one that wasn't pressing down threateningly against her throat, slid under her shirt and across her stomach. Fighting would make it worse... it always made it worse... but it wasn't fair! God, she hadn't done anything! She was being punished for something that she knew she hadn't done...

"Stop. Fidgeting."

His voice steeled her body, froze it on the spot. Lips pursed together tightly, afraid that even a slight quiver of them might be the thing to set him off completely.

"You haven't been eating, Angel" his hand slid across her non-existent belly... the planes of her stomach that were noticeably more concave then they once were. It still trembled the same way though when she took that quick breath in. She was still that same terrified little girl that had moved into this place, still the same weak wisp of a thing that traded in her own flesh for people that didn't even know they were killing her. He cocked his head slightly, "It's written... all over you".

Lior didn't know what to say... or what to do... so she stayed exactly as she was: quiet and still.

Because how was she supposed to react to that? How was she supposed to confront a monster about the side effects of what he was doing to her? How was she supposed to pretend to believe that he actually cared? Or that her physical state actually mattered to him when he made a point of tearing her down at every turn?

This was a conversation that she had with her parents, people who actually gave a damn about her. It was not something that she wanted to entertain with Daemon... and the thought of trying...

...it made her angry.

She tightened.

"Oh, did I upset you now?" he murmured lowly, tauntingly, leaning down lower, "You're slipping, kid. That didn't take long at all, now, did it?"

He was right. Having been underfed and under slept, her emotional control was cracking. Feelings were coming up so fast and she just didn't have the reserves to hold them back like she once did. She could feel his words grating at the back of her mind... eating at her... and now clawing their way forward, dangerously close to prompting a reaction.

She hated how strong he was. Hated that he has to exert no effort in order to have her pinned here. Hated how patronizing he was all the while.

"No matter how small you get... no matter how hard you try to disappear..." Daemon curled his fingers against her stomach, brushing over marks that had now healed and turned into scars, "all of you will always belong to me".

Without warning, Angel twisted harshly. She pushed the little weight she had up against him, driving him back enough for her to slip out from under him, "No!" And there it was -- her resolve crumbling before her very eyes, her efforts to keep her family safe becoming meaningless. A moment, this moment, had snapped something within her... and with it, she could feel all she had done become meaningless in an instant.

"Stupid move, whore".

In an instant, Daemon had grabbed onto the collar of her shirt. And with one powerful, harsh pull he snapped her back from the door and sent her crashing onto the ground. The force took her off her feet completely. She crumpled onto the floor, hissing as her body made contact with the hardwood. Her teeth bit into her tongue and her mouth instantly filled with the taste of copper... but it wasn't enough for her to stop. She had to move. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't-she couldn't-

Aaron... Aaron, please help-

Angel pushed herself up, scooching back until her back hit the wall as her eyes caught sight of Daemon's approach. His eyes were cruel misery. His form seemed to grow in front of her, impossibly strong and daunting. And with nowhere to go, with no exit in front of her... everything tasted like regret.

She froze as he closed the distance completely, inches away from her now. And when he kneeled down, bringing himself to her level, Angel couldn't move her terrified eyes away from his. They begged for fear induced forgiveness. They were full of recognition... the recognition that she had just made an incredibly stupid choice.

"Now tell me" he started, his mouth twisting into a cruel smirk, "was that worth it?"

"No" she whimpered immediately, voice trembling, retreating all too quickly back into submission. The rest of her shook just as much as he dragged his thumb down across her lips slowly, tracing them for a moment, creating an icy trail against the soft flesh.