SIX

IT WAS harrowing waking up in the colorless bedroom once again. Its walls mock how weak and pathetic I am, reminding me that I will never reach anything farther than this room.

Yet, I'm still laying in bed despite being awake since last night. The bedroom door was left wide open all night and I could've easily walked out, but I didn't. I couldn't. It's like there's this weight of emotions that are tying me down to the point that it's controlling over me. I can't explain it, but what I can is that Sebastian took away the last thing that belonged to me.

I want to burn this damn house down with him in it. I want to take everything that belongs to him in the most deleterious way possible. With rage shadowing my thoughts, I start screaming raving words that tear though my throat. Anger oozing out every sound, I kick my legs like a real lunatic and thump my head with the palm of my hand.

Underneath all the uproar I'm making, I'm able to hear the drum of bare feet running down the hall. Sebastian bursts through the door, his eyes glassy and broad, and his face pinched with lips agape.

"What-"

"Fuck you!" I spit in his direction as I repeatedly yell my hate towards him. Sebastian steps closer to the bed and I continue to spit until droplets of saliva coat his cheek. He pierces down at me before he wipes his cheek with the pad of his fingertips. He dries his fingers on the thigh of his jeans and extends his hand out to me, placing it down on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me." I growl, throwing his hand off me and scattering off the bed onto the opposite side before he can get another hold on me.

I push my matted hair back from my face and wipe the salvia on my lips with my thumb. I cross my arms over my stomach expecting to feel the fabric of a T-shirt, but instead my arms gaze over expose skin.

In alarm, I uncross my arms and look down at the clothing on me. I'm wearing a black tank top that fits a bit small on me that it sits just above my bellybutton, and grey, loose-fitting sweatpants cover my legs. The bottoms have no pockets.

I'm nauseous and mortified as I walk backwards, attempting to keep the most distance possible from Sebastian. I press my back to the wall and feel an unsecured nail dig into the muscle of my back shoulder. "You changed me."

He practically saw me naked.

Sebastian's silence confirms the statement. For a brief second, he looks horrified at how my reaction, but quickly composes himself. I glare at him while pushing my weight off the wall and take a couple steps towards him.

"You're sick. You've taken everything from me," I furiously wipe the tear rolling down before he can see. Millions of thoughts run through me, mostly what he could've done with a naked and unconscious me. "You're sick, so fucking sick!"

I fist at Sebastian's chest as I shout over and over. He doesn't do anything, but stare at me with an unreadable expression. I shove him to get him to say anything, and he stumbles back into the wall, but before he falls, he presses his palms flat on the wall and pushes himself back up again.

"I didn't do anything to you." There's sadness in his words as his eyes frost, like he can't believe I would even think that.

Instead of responding, I let out a wail, not caring about him seeing me vulnerable. There's so much anger and dejection inside of me that I can't hold it anymore longer. I smack my hand repeatedly against the wall, imagining it's him, as I sob in his face. I hit the wall harder when I see Sebastian trying to grab my hand.

"Stop it, you're going to hurt yourself." He tries to keep his voice calm, but there's an undertone of panic and agony to it. "Vanessa, por favor."

Sebastian manages to snatch my hand away and grabs the other one to hold both wrists in his hands. He bores his eyes into me and through teary eyes, I can see him attempting to keep himself together as his nose crinkles.

"I'm going to let go of your hands but if you start hurting yourself I won't have a choice but to tie them up." His tone is apologetic towards the end as he slowly releases my hands. I let my hands drop to my sides, continuing to stare both angry and confused, yet somewhat disgusted.

Sebastian pulls his sleeve over his thumb and takes his hand to my cheek, swabbing the tears there with the material of his shirt. He moves is hand to do the same with the other cheek but I turn my head away.

Who does he think he is?

"Okay," Sebastian brings his hand to my hair, but I flinch before his touch sits. He removes his hand and runs it through his hair instead. "I'm going to be in the kitchen."

He turns his back at me, not waiting for a response, and walks out of the room. I release the breath of air I didn't realize I was holding in, and tug at the drawstring of the sweatpants until it comes off. I gather my hair in my hands and pull it into a high ponytail, wrapping the drawstring around it a couple times until it's secure enough. I then fold the waistband of the sweatpants and wipe the sweat behind and alongside my neck with hand, finally feeling the humidity of the island.

I walk over to the door, but don't go out. I don't want to stay in this room any longer, but I also don't want to be in another room with him. Trying not to overthink, I step out of the room and walk down the hall into the living room.

Like he said where he would be, Sebastian is in the kitchen in front of the stove. I gaze over to the bowl that's sitting on the countertop with what looks to be batter coating the rim, and stare at it, momentarily, before walking any further.

The wood groans below me as I plod to the couch. The sound catches Sebastian's attention and his head twists over to me. I note that he's wearing a white T-shirt and light wash jeans instead of his usual dark clothing. His hair is clean and the small scratches on his face almost look like they're healing.

Sebastian is tight-lipped and doleful as his eyes circle my face, searching for something. I look away and level my stare at the door as I sit down. I hear a cluster of plates clink as they're being taken out of the cabinet and set on the table.

From the corner of my eye, Sebastian's bare feet walk over to my direction. His feet stop at the other end of the coffee table and places a plate of pancakes with a fork there. He carefully slides the dish over to me and walks back into the kitchen.

I peer at the food on the plate before reaching out for it and setting it on my lap. I cut the pancakes in pieces and spear a small chunk with the point of the fork. I bring the fork close to my mouth and eat the piece off it without thinking twice. I'm attentive as I chew, but no flavor seems out of place so I eat the rest.

I look up from my plate when I hear Sebastian set his plate on the table and sit down. His brows are dent and his gaze broods over his plate of food. He tugs his bottom lips in between his thumb and pointer finger while bouncing his left leg. Before he can find me staring at his anxious state, I take my eyes back to my plate.

A keen ring gathers my attention and I look back up at Sebastian. He has tossed his fork against the glass of the coffee table and shoved his plate aside. He stands up and momentarily stands there, motionless, as he clenches and unclenches his hands. With a heavy exhale, Sebastian starts pacing back and forth.

"Why? I don't understand," His voice is distress and indignant as he gestures his fingers to his head. "I never imagined you were trying to hurt yourself but then I found those rocks in your pockets..." Sebastian trails off and runs his hands down his face, his pacing coming to a halt.

I roughly place my plate on the floor and cross my legs beneath me. "Fuck you." I repeat my words from ealier while watching him take a step closer to me.

"You don't understand." Sebastian humorlessly chuckles and shakes his head like it's the most absurd thing that I don't get what's going on.

"I do, that's why I did what I did."

"Stop talking like that." He scowls at me before shaking his head again. After a few seconds, his glare drops and his features soothe. "Is being here that bad?"

I bury my eyes into his so he can know what I'm about to say is nothing but the truth. "Yes."

Sebastian steps back from me before I can entirely scan his expression and rubs his eyes, snuffling a bit while doing so. He crosses his arms and looks at the ground with a fixed stare. "It doesn't always have to be like this, Vane."

"What did you just call me?"

His eyes swiftly dart over to me and back to the ground. "Vane," A Spanish accent rolls off his tongue as he says the word slower.

I wince at the nickname, loathing the idea of Sebastian calling me by an unfamiliar nickname, and curl my upper lip in disgust. "Vanessa. My name is Vanessa."

"You're the only one who's making your life miserable. This island has so much to offer."

I shake my head, "You're the one that doesn't understand."

"Then tell me, what can I do?" Sebastian eyes beg for an answer.

"Let me go."

━━━━━━

The nickname Vane is pronounced like vah-neh.