He snatched it back, out of her grasp, embarrassed that she was the one to find it before he had. "What-- How?!" he shouted, scandalized that the book had chosen she, who knew little of the world it carried within its pages. It should have been himself to find it. He was the one who had devoted his life to the science of cryptography, after all.
"I-I, um..." She tittered, afraid to speak her mind suddenly, due to the unexpected nature of his response to her offering. "Well, It's a gift!" She sang, with all the warm innocence of a child befitting her age.
"Of course it is! What I'm asking is how you managed to find it when I couldn't?! It was supposed to be my great moment, and you ruined it!"
She shrank against his reproach, with confusion and worry etched on his features. When he talked so brightly about the book, she assumed that he would be in a colorful mood, for the first time since she could remember. It would be the perfect time for her to unveil her deepest secret. That one phrase that had been burning on the edge of her lips until that last evening where he visited her on her death bed.
It was with that goal in mind that she desired to achieve the book before anyone else, in that moment; and as if to answer her silent prayer, the book appeared on the table in front of her, on the other side of the tent that he had just entered. So, it was in response to her passion and fervor that the book responded; proving that even as powerful as Derek's zeal was, her devotion was greater still.
She collected the book, and secreted it away, making sure to not draw his attention as she escaped—an easy task, since he hardly desired her presence there in the first place. Leaving him there with the mountain of books in his way, she returned to find him frantically wringing his head in grief for losing the book.
From there, she only had to wait for the perfect moment to strike. The surprise and relief in his face would be so pure and wonderful, that he would surely be gracious to hear out any request of hers! It was a situation so unlike reality, that she almost became consumed with despair.
"I noticed you there with your eyes closed, and I thought it would be the ideal time to surprise you... I already bought it! N-no need to pay me back, or anything." she murmured. It seemed that maybe that was the reason he was upset? She didn't understand how this had backfired so tremendously. "I only didn't expect you to grab it out of my hands while your eyes were still closed. That was really creepy, Derek. How did you do that?"
"Never mind that," he exclaimed, turning away from her with a fire in his eyes. His grin spread wide, and he stared salaciously at the front cover. "I finally have you, my love..." He whispered under his breath, to no one in particular.
"Uh, I don't like the way you're looking at that book..." she said, scowling at the pitiable situation she was quickly finding herself within. He'd never looked at her that way, after all. "How can you be so focused on a piece of literature when you've got a cute girl standing right here in front of you?! Like, helloooo? Shouldn't I be due a little bit of gratitude?"
Honestly, this boy was impossible. He looked over his shoulder, with a sneer, and derided. "Are you still here?"
Her fists clenched. Her teeth gritted against one another. The sclera of her eyes bulged with veins, and her stance grew into one of one teetering on the edge of a bloodthirsty rampage, but Derek continued to pay her little mind, for he knew what followed. It was the first time he had witnessed it with eyes enough to see the totality of her prison.
An aura of violent burning plasma extended in a halo above her head, and far into the shadow looming in the sky above. Her eyes shone with the passionate fury, as she appeared ready to lunge headlong into his torso, and rip his head off his shoulders for this complete disregard of common decency. He turned his third eye toward her and marveled at the intense malice and hatred that he had inspired within her.
He couldn't believe the amount of torment she had built inside of her, and for a moment he feared that the weight of it was too great for her body to contain. Just as he was about to apologize for his callousness, the column of glowing energy vanished entirely, as it was drawn up into the shadow that hung in the dead of space, overhead.
She opened her mouth to speak, and all that came out was the typical cheery voice that he had unfortunately grown all too accustomed to hearing. "Aww, cutie. You don't mean that at all, heehee! Where else would I go, when you're here?!" She smiled lovingly, and attempted to go in for a sensual embrace.
He side-stepped her advances, and shook his head. "I warned you, you're not allowed to touch me. You are never allowed to touch me, alright?! Keep this up and I'll stop letting you into my room." He had to hold her arms out of range with one of his own as she spoke. It wasn't until he threatened her with the reduction of her rights that she cowed before him.
"I-I'll behave..." she said, folding her arms behind her back, politely. Still her eyes burned with a lurid ferocity that troubled him. So, this is what they've done to her... They use her anger almost like a bottomless aliicidal battery. Once all that rage and anguish was gone from her, all that remained would be the meager feeling of camaraderie that he gave to her, growing up.
He understood how a regular feeling of little more than care and nostalgia could eventually grow into more with time. She could come to imagine herself in love, if the notion repeated itself over such an extended period.
He felt vindicated for repeatedly spurning her apparent advances. This was proof that the real her was buried inside of this figment, and trying to escape every time he pushed her buttons—but there was no hope for her now, that the Nightmare God had her. Its hold was as unbreakable as the tethers of gravity, now that it had been secured. She would never again escape its notice.
He pitied her, for her talent was too great to have been ignored for long. Was she truly so prodigious in her psychopathy that the god of malice chose her at such a vulnerable age?
The girl before him was a shell, left behind as a voracious beast regularly knelt down from the heavens to scoop out her insides. It explained why he always felt so disgusted to be around her. Every single piece of her attitude was fake. She was a crop regularly harvested by the god that loved nothing but pain. Pain which he regularly exacted upon her. All that Derek was, is fertilizer.
He shook his head, and grabbed her hand, tugging her rapidly down the road, to that secret place where he could be alone. "D-Derek!" She cried, emblazoned by his sudden advance.
"Seriously, shut up okay?! I'm not going to molest you or anything. Have a even little faith in me." He ran fast, ignoring the subtle golden light emanating from her core. It seemed that the truth of the situation continued to be that her true self hated this intimate contact. She clutched his fingers tighter, and the glow continued to steadily increase until they arrived in a shed in the middle of the woods. "Listen, you're going to have to trust me, alright?"
He was conflicted before, but now he was absolutely sure. He had to use his new knowledge to release his friend. He didn't know how, and he didn't know when, but he couldn't ignore her suffering now that he knew the full extent of it. Maybe she might hate him afterward, but at least she would be free. At least she would be herself. They stepped inside.