Chereads / My Psycho Stepson and me / Chapter 52 - 52. Journey to Hell (Jude's POV)

Chapter 52 - 52. Journey to Hell (Jude's POV)

After having received my punishment, I walked back into my room, finally getting rid of the fabric that stuck to my wounds.

Falling on the bed, I asked myself what the little crow was doing when my eyes surprisingly fell on her. 

The small bird had hidden itself, still gripping its treasures. Instead of flying back into her nest, she was here, in my room, under my desk, behind my chair.

The little crow's feathers were in disarray, her eyes big as it sought protection, not in its own nest, but here with me. Did that mean she felt safe by my side? Bringing even her treasures with her?

I tried to lure the bird to me; she even laid her goods to the side, and hesitantly, she flew to my side. Even going so far as placing her wings inside my palm, so easily held, so easily broken. How come the little crow is so docile today?

Had she followed and heard me receive my punishment? Were her feathers ruffled by the harsh sounds, so she searched for a place where she felt safe—where she waited for me?

Lesly's soft palms and her petite fingers enclosed in my palm, without taking on the false identity of the cat, she came to me, just to me. And all I had to do is to call for her.

Had it always been that easy?

I watched on her as she took a seat before my bed, the ocean so close that I felt the pull again, pulling me to her, and so I moved, let myself pull, pulled closer and closer, and when we were a hair's breadth away, it was still not enough.

My eyes wandered from the blue to pink, and if under a spell, I moistened my dry lips, feeling parched for the bright blue water that would douse my fire, that she displayed so willingly right before me, as if I weren't a man dying of thirst.

When she backed up suddenly, and fled into the bathroom, I could still not snap out of it. With my hand empty and my water having vaporized, the bird had flown away without leaving me something behind.

At least I could still feel the little sparks on my skin, on the spots where we shared the contact.

I let my wounds be disinfected, turning away and trying to get the agitation under control she had again presented me with. But instead of letting me recover, she touched my skin, the fire taking over and I had to clench my fists as not to either push her away or pull her closer.

And then she asked me directly, amusing me. That was indeed a clever move. Telling her what I knew, having her hand in my hair, and I was again feeling thirsty, which only aggravated after she spotted my little movement of licking my lips.

As I told her what I knew, I saw the compassion in her eyes; it was how one looked at an injured little animal, at a child, turning my agitation to something else.

The fascination overtook again, and I asked myself if this was indeed the curse of the Lennister-men—to get entrapped by the ocean, constantly getting pulled in—it either ending with obsession or in drowning.

I pulled on her as she was constantly pulling me, and when I had her under me, I asked myself if my father had her in this position as well, was he looking down on her, hovering over the body that was far too young for him?

Had he the 'Original' in this position as well? Was this view what had made him crazy, leading me on the same path as well?

Was this really the curse of the Lennister-men, and was I able, was I willing to fight against it?

The ensemble of her features, of the light colors, it was really deadly beautiful, at least explaining a part of the curse, but was this shell all it would take to bring men and their families down, driving people literally into lunacy?

However, it seemed she saw through my darkest thoughts, and finally, she called me out, hitting me more violently than I had ever thought, stunning me into silence and immobility. When she spoke in an attempt to help me, only two words stuck in my head: 'as well'. 

'....or you flee from this place as well.'

She would try it again, to flee. What if she was caught by my father, or more important, what if she changed her appearance once more and was brought back to him? And the most important, what if she was not caught?

The little crow was even so polite to leave me a fund for starting a new life.

I stood up, and showered the blood away, before sitting on my window sill, smoking. Taking a long drag, I looked into the dark night. It seemed the nights would get longer again, now that I was asked to stop coming by.

Yes. Why not stop this dangerous journey?

************

Thomas POV

I came by after my school day to lie on your chest as you read books for me. Then we would go to get her, and when you either had to get your treatments, or when it was your turn to learn, I was alone with her again. Again and again she would abuse me.

And while she hurt me, I could see that she enjoyed it; she loved to see pain. Did she do the same with you? 

Would my time come to protect you?

The decision was made on this special evening; on which she didn't come to the school gate. 

I followed you as you took me to her classroom.

There we saw her kissing someone. You put your hand over my mouth so that I wouldn't make a sound, we were so close as you carried me away. 

Having you so near, the only contact besides holding hands and putting my head on your chest, or when you tended to my wounds, I felt as if I were flying.

When I now think back to this point, this brief moment of solace was my last, before I descended into hell later that day, and since then, have never come out.

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