Chris watched the sun as it rose, from the small window above her head. Slowly the sun fought back the moon and reclaimed her rightful place in the sky. But Chris's mind was still stuck in that night. The cumulation of all the previous events had compounded, threatening to destroy the beautiful moments that were also created. She hated herself for daring to think that Zeven wasn't the monster she always thought him to be.
For the last week, there were times when she would look at Zeven and feel her resolve soften. The smile that was carefree and happy had tricked her, drawing her further and further into him.
Even more than she cursed him, she cursed her own weakness. Upon reflection, Chris realised that there was no way she would have been able to rescue herself. Without Zeven…
Her shoulder throbbed with a greater intensity than usual. Without thinking her hand moved to the injury, hovering just above it. A little lower down, she could clearly see the four small bruises on the front of her arm. There were bruises all over her, mostly from training with Zeven, but there were some from last night that he had not caused. She refused to look at them, fearful that they would only confirm her failure.
She began to head downstairs; it was early enough that Gunter would be awake, but after spending a few weeks in this household, she felt fairly confident that Zeven wouldn't be.
The long walk down from her room gave her time to push all thoughts from her mind. She moved robotically, each step calculated and precise.
Gunter was already pouring her a cup of coffee before she could even sit down at the bar stool. He didn't say anything as he passed her the mug, which she was grateful for. Her gaze did not waiver as she swiveled in her chair and grabbed a pen and notepad off the table, and began solving the impossible puzzle.
Zeven came downstairs shortly after, the bruising under his eyes beginning to fade. He was already dressed and was wide awake. The bottom of his shirt was tucked neatly into his trousers in all but one spot, there were other subtle things that were off the more you looked at him. His usual attention to detail was gone and replaced with haggard awareness.
Gunter had a cup ready for him as well, but Zeven didn't bother to sit down at the bar beside Chris. Instead he grabbed the cup and downed it where he stood, not even flinching at its bitterness.
With a dull clink he sat the cup back on the bar, and left the kitchen. The front door opened and shut and Zeven was completely gone.
"Did you want to discuss what happened?" Gunter asked, making her look up from her notes.
"I didn't think there was much to say."
"From the way that you both are behaving this morning, I would disagree."
She pursed her lips as she looked back down.
"I'm not saying that what he did was right, but I am confident that he was only trying to help."
"You weren't there, how could you know."
"I may not have seen it, but I do know Zeven very well. He is a lot softer than he seems."
"I was humiliated."
"From what it sounded like, without Zeven you would have experienced worse."
"You don't know what you are talking about." Chris's eyes burned as they tore into the counter, her hands scraping against her pants and she brought them into fists.
Gunter gave a small nod of his head, "Forgive me then." He then sat down the towel he had been holding and walked away.
As Gunter left the kitchen, Chris focused back on her notes. But it was no use, try as she could, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. Gunter wasn't wrong, despite knowing that she couldn't accept it. Her pride prevented her from seeing any fault that might belong to her.
She was looking down at the paper, but all she could see was Zeven. From the moment she met him he was audacious, reckless and bold and everything she was not. He was cruel, deliberately humiliating her in front of others and trying to manipulate her. But there were also good things about him, he cared for his people, he had a strong resolve that he was willing to sacrifice anything for. Something to kill for, something to die for, and something to live for.
In the moments his mask slipped she could see the man in him. The kind person who felt remorse and grieved things that he had done. He wasn't the perfect prince he portrayed, just like herself, he was burdened with the weight.
But there was something that he had that she was missing, she was sure that if she could just get her hands on the last piece of the puzzle she could be just as good as him. Then she wouldn't need anyone ever again.
Her thoughts consumed her, filling the pages of the notebook like coins in a wishing well, until the page had been completely covered.