Steel Princess: Chapter 4
On her way out, Reed’s quizzical gaze bounces between me and Elsa like a ping pong ball.
I tune her out.
I tune everyone out except for Elsa.
And the new boy. Elsa’s saviour.
Her knight in shining fucking armour.
What’s the easiest way to break a knight and crush him to pieces?
Actually, I’ll use the hardest way to burn him and watch as he turns to ashes.
He gives Elsa one last sickeningly sweet smile on his way to the door.
My head tilts to the side, studying his body language and searching for a tell — or a weakness.
He’s too put together, but I’ll find something.
I always do.
When I face Elsa, my left eye twitches.
Elsa is called Frozen for a reason. She’s not sociable — at all. Even when people talk to her, her smiles are awkward at best. Inside, she’s wishing for them to vanish and stop disturbing her introverted bubble.
But now, she’s smiling.
No.
She’s not only smiling, but she also has that slight twitch in her nose and dreamy fucking eyes.
The smile she gives me after sex.
Or when she sleeps tangled all around me.
That smile is exclusive to me.
Why the fuck is she offering it to the new boy?
I continue staring at his back even after the door closes.
Did I say I’ll watch him burn?
Change of plans. That’s too lenient.
After schooling my expression, I fall on the chair opposite Elsa’s hospital bed.
Her light blonde hair has lost its shining streak and falls on either side of her pale face. It’s even paler than the natural complexion of her skin.
The hospital robe appears three sizes too big, giving nothing away.
She still looks edible.
It’s not about her physical appearance, it’s about her entire aura.
Like a lighthouse in the middle of a dark sea.
A needle punctures her porcelain skin and lodges in her veins. The reddening flesh is like a bloody red rose.
I stare at it longer than needed.
It’s almost similar to the hickeys I left around her scar.
Imperfection in little things.
My gaze slides back to hers.
She’s watching my hands which are hanging nonchalantly over my knees.
I’m tempted to start shit about the new boy, but that’s not for today.
She almost drowned.
She was floating in the pool, and I wasn’t there.
The thought that I could’ve lost her after I’ve finally had her brings a gloomy feeling.
Like the one I felt when Alicia was gone.
If it weren’t for the new boy, Elsa wouldn’t be sitting here.
Hmm. Maybe I won’t torture the new boy for long before crushing him to pieces.
Elsa’s electric blue eyes focus back on my face. Only there’s nothing electric about them.
They’re dark and dead like the bottom of the ocean.
She’s looking at me, but she’s not seeing me. It’s like she’s lost in a world of her own making and no one is allowed inside.
Fuck that.
She doesn’t get to hide from me. Not now.
“What happened?” I ask.
“It was cold,” she says with a detached tone, her face emotionless. “Do you know how cold it gets when you’re drowning? When you’re suffocating? When you’re gasping for air but all you get is water?”
“No.”
She scoffs without humour. “Of course. You don’t feel.”
“Do you have a purpose behind this?”
She stares at me for a beat. Silent.
I stare back, keeping up with her silence game.
This is one of the methods Jonathan taught me and Lev. Silence can be used to your benefit.
People are usually burdened by long, awkward silence, and would be compelled to fill it or give you the answer you need.
Elsa better not be using that tactic on me because it takes more than the silent treatment to crack me.
I try studying her for a tell, but she remains as blank as a board.
Hmm. Interesting.
Since when did she become unreadable?
When I learnt about the drowning, I called Jonathan. He said he never spoke with Elsa at RES. Besides, the whole thing is supposed to be in my hands. Jonathan wouldn’t interfere.
However, the intuition I had since practice refuses to disappear.
“Has it been fun all this time?” she finally asks.
“What?”
“The whole deal about destroying me for what my parents did.”
My head tilts to the side.
She’s not supposed to know that.
Jonathan doesn’t lie. If he said he didn’t talk to her, then he didn’t. Besides, he likes taking his victims by surprise. It’s not in his best interest if she learns that piece of information.
“How did you know that?” I keep my voice light.
“I have my ways.”
I narrow my eyes at the tone she said it with. She’s challenging me, and the beast inside me is clawing to rise up to it.
Easy, boy. Not now.
“I asked you a question,” she continues.
“What question?”
“You know, I didn’t want to believe it, but it makes complete sense now. After all, you said you’ll destroy me upon first meeting. Did you know my background since then?”
Silence.
“You won’t answer that? How about this one?” She pauses. “Didn’t your mother commit suicide or something? How could my parents kill her from Birmingham?”
Just how much does she know?
How far?
Wait.
Did she get her memories back?
“Are you going to keep your promise?” I ask.
Her brows furrow. “What promise?”
So she doesn’t remember. Makes sense. After all, Alicia shouldn’t belong in her memories.
“I want to break up.” She shakes her head with a bitter laugh. “Actually, no. We were never dating in the first place, so I want to end whatever we have right now.”
My left eye twitches, but I remain silent. If I talk, I’ll go straight to action. I’ll pin her against the bed and fuck that idea out of her head.
But that’ll alert her guardians who could or could not be eavesdropping as we speak.
Besides, she needs to rest.
Instead, I force a smile. “Try again, sweetheart.”
She crosses those pale arms over her chest.
It’s stupid, really.
She should’ve learnt by now that nothing — absolutely nothing — will keep me away from her.
Elsa can wear armour, and I’ll stab straight through it. Hell, she can hide behind a fort, and I’ll bring the whole fucking thing down.
“If you don’t let me go,” she deadpans. “I’ll tell everyone you pushed me into the pool.”
“What’s your proof?”
“I don’t need one. It’s a victim’s testimony.”
“Hmmm. It’ll be your word against mine, sweetheart, and I happen to have the entire football team and the coaches as my alibi.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. The entire school will think I’m not going out with someone I accused of pushing me.”
“You think I give a fuck about what everyone thinks?”
“You will.” Her emotionless tone grates at my fucking nerves. “Because this time, it’ll be a fight to the death, King.”
King.
She’s calling me King.
I told her to call me that when I was on the mission to destroy her, but now it feels like a stab straight to the back.
“You think you can take me, sweetheart?” I stand up and stalk towards her with slow predatory steps.
Pity, she doesn’t smell of that coconut shit today. Instead, she’s all covered with the hospital smell.
The old Elsa would’ve watched me with a wild gaze. She would’ve had a battle in those electric blue eyes about whether to fight or to save her energy.
Not this Elsa.
She doesn’t flinch. She just remains as immovable as a statue.
A cold, frigid statue.
This isn’t my Elsa.
And if I have to break the statue to bring her out, then so be it.
She stares up at me with dim eyes. “We’re enemies, aren’t we?”
“Maybe.”
“Then we’re over,” she says with more strength than needed.
I push a stray blonde strand behind her ear, taking my time to feel the warmth of her skin against mine.
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” I murmur near her mouth, “Being enemies doesn’t change the fact that you’re fucking mine.”