Untouched || Popov Safehouse #33

Ashleen's eyes danced from shadow to shadow, as she sat perfectly straight on the center of her neatly made bed. It was dusk, the time of day she hated the most.

The time of day when the shadows lengthened and darkness fell once more.

Her wand shook in her hand, and she had a whole slew of other weapons within reach - all things she owned or had collected from around the house. No one would notice any of them gone. Members were always taking weapons with them as they went. They couldn't possibly keep track of who had which ones.

Besides....

She needed these. What if, what if....

She swallowed and bit her lip, clenching her shaking hands around a pillow which she had picked up from behind her.

She swallowed hard and looked at the door worriedly. It was locked - she had made sure of that; no one would be getting in. Not without her-her-her....

The young girl had been getting better for a bit... but then... then...

It had all gone screwy in her head, and she jumped even more, and couldn't even-even...

She had been slowly pushing even Tre away in the last few weeks, and when she had gotten back from Durmstrang she had hidden herself away in her room. She hadn't even let Heaven into the room. The dog had long since given up scratching and was just patiently sitting outside of the door; keeping gaurd for the mistress who wouldn't even let her in.

Her breath hitched as her body conintued to shake. She pulled the pillow closer to herself, and closed her eyes.

She just wanted it all to go away.

Tre frowned and looked out the window at the end of the hallway. From his place against the wall across from Ash's door, he watched the shadows lengthen. She would be half way into a panic attack by now. His worried golden gaze met the warm brown eyes of Heaven, then he was at the door, his forehead resting gently against the wood and his fist wrapping around the doorknob.

He knew her well enough to know it was locked.

He closed his eyes and began to sing, softly, through the door. He paused after a moment, a soft golden glow shooting from his hand and unlocking the door.

Slowly, he pushed it open, and looked in, blinking and taking in the darkness. Why wasn't her light on?

He reached over and clicked on a lamp, illuminating himself for the first time. Prior to thus, he'd been a silhoutte in the hall light.

"Ash?"

Spoiler:

She had known he'd be out there too. Even if she hadn't been listening to every movement outside of her door, she'd know he'd be sitting there, waiting...

She knew Tre; even with her mind so far lost in its own little world, she knew him - she'd always know him.

Still, it didn't stop her from, tensing as she heard movement from behind the door - voices... melodic... music...

She heard them and knew exactly who they were coming from.

But it didn't matter.

She was already too far gone, that was the problem, she was lost in her head, in a world of fear and suspicion that just didn't leave room for...

Ashleen all but flew from her seat, flinching so violently as the door open that she almost knocked herself off the bed. Even as it was she scrambled away from the shadowy figure who stood in her door.

"S-stay away," she muttered her hand shaking on her wand, "I-I have..."

Her light flicked on, and she flinched again, Tre's familar face coming into focus. It calmed her only slightly. She still couldn't.... couldn't...

"Please... don't-don't... just-just stay... stay...." she frowned and looked down at her lap, her shaking legs, "don't... come closer.... please."

"Ash..." He whispered, his voice soothing, calm. "It's just me." he took a carefully measured step forward, then another. "Leenie? It's only Angel." He came to a stop at the edge of her bed, deaf to the sound of Heaven whimpering in warning. He wasn't going to leave her this...this...

Broken.

His golden eyes glinsened slightly as he saw just how frightened she was. "Ash..." He didn't know what possessed him to do it - Love, Fear, Desperation, Pure Idiocy - but he reached out a hand, and caressed her cheek. "It's only-"

His words washed over her in a wave of nothing. She heard him, but it was like listening through a wall of goop, or trying to pick out a noise in a crowd. There was simply nothing there that came through to her, no meaning, no tone, instinctual knowledge that this voice was-was...

It was nothing, washing over her like the wind, there but barely making a dent.

Her gaze was glued to him as he stepped foward, her breath began to hitch and she could feel her pulse racing even more. She had told him to stay back, to not-not... She couldn't, couldn't.... he needed to stay away. Everyone needed to just stay away.

She was hardly aware of what followed. Her head swam as her vision seemed to blur. She could barely see his actions, hear his words. She certainly wasn't aware of herself, of the way her breath was coming out in such short quick gasps that it was barely coming out at all.

She was focused on one thing and one thing only. The soft feeling of skin on skin, the gentle tender feeling of caring hands, concerned fingers tracing the line of her cheek.

There was...

He was...

Someone was...

touching her. He was touching her.

She flinched back violently, her eyes wided with panic and her voice shrill and screaching with hystaria as she finally spoke.

"Don't. Touch. Me!"

It felt like hours to Ash as she sat there hyper focused on the one fact, that he was, somoene was... no one was going to touch her. Not ever again.

And yet Tre had barely made contact at all before.

Unaware of any action except for the need for the touching to stop. She needed him to - no one was going to- they couldn't think, they couldn't think they could just...

Her hand swung out, away from her body as she forceibly moved herself away from the offending touch, and right towards the boy she loved.

The force of it was enough to slam his head to the side. His cheek became red almost instantly, his hair falling into his eyes and throwing his face in shadow. The pain was sharp, like the sound that filled the room. It was hard to comprehend. Something in him didn't want to believe it, but here was proof. Here was...

Pain.

Slowly, without moving his head, he looked at her, the only eye that showed through the shadow of his hair a blinding gold.

Then he was gone, as far away from her as physically possible, out of the Safehouse in what seemed like a blur. He disappeared into the lengthening shadows of the familiar Russian alleyways, taking solance in the darkness of the falling night.

If she didn't want him to touch her, then he wouldn't.

Ashleen froze for a moment, her breathing stopped, and her eyes widened in horrification as she realized what she had done. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed through out the room, through out out her head which now felt empty except for that one sound, and her hand stung, burned.

She shook as she leaned forward.

No. No. No. She didn't just.... couldn't have just...

"Tre..." she leaned foward to grab for him, to apologize, to explain, to do anything but he was already gone.

Gone.

She slipped forward, her momentum and state of shock too much to stop her and she slipped pitifully of her bed, laying there for a long moment, still trying to comprehend what had just....

No. No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening, he couldn't have just.... she needed him. Didn't he understand that? Didn't she understand that.

"Tre!" she pulled herself up to her knees shakily, and then finally to her feet, running to the door, "Tre!!"

She was out in the hall, spinning, turning... she needed to - he couldn't have just.... just....

"He's already gone."

She heard the words from the random member as if they were from a great distances. She didn't even bother to look at who it was, if she knew them or not...

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

As if in a daze she wandered back to her room, her mind too blank to let what just happened in.

She couldn't have.... he couldn't have....

She had hit him...

And he had left.

Already gone.

And it was-was....

Her fault.

Her hand suddenly shook with a rage she couldn't explain. How could he! How could she.... she- she- she-


The young girl grabbed a framed photo off her desk, throwing it across the room were it dented the wall and then hit the ground with a smash, glass spilling everywhere. She didn't stop there thought. It was like a damn had broken and months of stuff were funnelling through her, hyper focused on one fact.

He left.

The pillow made it across the room next, the sound a lot less impressive, then it was everthng in site, spell books, her wand, the contents of her dresser. Drawer, after draw was opened and the contents spilled across the room.

Her hand closed around something cold, and it to was gone. Only for the girl to realize what it was.

One of Tre's sculptures. She ran after it, trying to catch it, and physically wincing as violently as if she had been shot as the shatter came and ice covered the ground.

Her knees gave out then, and she sunk to the ground, tears which had been running down her face broke out into sobs.

How could he have just.... just...

What was she supposed to do now. She couldn't just, just, just.....

She picked up one ice shard, looking at it as if it was the answer to the world.... when really it was just....

A Peice of broken ice.

That was what she had reduced his gift to.... that's what she had reduced themselves to.

Because she had slapped him.

And he had left.

She fell to the ground then, pulling her knees up to her chest. One soft word chocking out through her sobs.

"Tre."