The Puppet Master

*Emilie's POV*

I pulled at the bottom of my top as I rushed downstairs to answer the door.
A tall and slightly pudgy boy stood on the threshold with another, taller, blond haired boy. I embraced them both.
"Evan!" I exclaimed, hugging the pudgy boy and ruffling his light brown hair.
"Dear sweet little Princess Emilie!" he said enthusiastically, returning my hug!
"Drew!" I turned to the taller boy. He hugged me nervously. I moved for them to go in.
Evan rushed over to Clarence excitedly whilst Drew hung back shyly.
I liked Evan and Drew, they had been friends with Clarence for a forever. Evan was always chipper and bumbling, but oddly smart. Drew was just, I don't know, Drew I guess.
The boys started on beer and Drew took over the sound system, he decided on Led Zeppelin. Good boy, Drew!
Within the hour, all my brother's friends were at my house and the alcohol was flowing.
I'd managed to get my hands on some tequila, salt and lemon. Somehow me and Drew ended up in a shoot drinking contest, my brother pouring. Drew lost.
I escaped the kitchen and my brother's watchful eye, claiming the shots had left me with a headache, and sat on the front lawn with a glass of wine. Everything was a bit blurry but I wasn't totally trashed. Still, I was hammered enough to have zero emotional control. I thought about Stuart. Why hadn't he come? Did he hate me? Was his phone broken and he just hadn't got my messages? Did he not care? Was I totally insignificant?
I started to cry. Pathetic, sobbing, drunk underage on my front lawn, because of a boy!
A gentle hand brushed my shoulder.
I rolled to look up. His shocking blue eyes were the same as always. He flashed me that shy smile. He didn't even say a word, and I didn't give him chance - I wrapped my arms around him, puling him down. He gasped in shock.
"Umm, Hi Em." He laughed.
I didn't answer. Instead I watched his mouth, leaning up to meet his mouth with mine. He didn't lean into the kiss so I began to pull away, but he placed his hand on the back of my head, keeping my face near his. It was an awkward position, but I didn't care.
"I've been waiting forever for you to do that." he murmured.
"Then why didn't you make the first move?" I asked.
"You know I'm shy!" He nibbled his lower lip..
"That's no excuse for the emotional trauma you put me through. " i said, turning my head away. "You ignore me for weeks, act like you don't know me, you never show up to places we agree to meet at-" He cut me off mid-sentence.
"But I'm here now! I'm here because I'm ready to be here," He looked away from me this time, like he couldn't bare to face up to me. "I wasn't ready for a serious relationship with a girl like you, but now I am." He whispered, like a sinner confessing to the priest.
"Oh, Stuart." he looked back at me, his blue eyes glassy as he leaned down and kissed me gently. His lip ring dug into me, he was so damn gentle : maybe it was just the alcohol, but I did not want him treating me like porcelain.
I pulled away in the middle of the kiss.
He looked shocked. "What?" he asked.
"Just open your mouth," I said "Or better yet:, take me out of here."
"You're drunk Em."
"Yeah, I'm drunk whenever I'm with you." I whispered. He smiled.
He got off me, he wasn't heavy, but having his weight off me was a relief. He extended a hand but I tried to get up on my own, falling in the mud and getting even worse. He laughed, a sweet and melodic sound, before pulling me up.

We got to his house. I knew it well. Even in the dark, completely trashed I could (and had in the past) find that place without a problem. I'd been going there with Clarence since I was little, but Stuart always got on better with me. I'd give anything to be that little innocent girl with the perfect clean skin again: that little girl who didn't know what self-harm was, who couldn't pronounce 'psychiatrist'.
He unlocked the door, answering my unanswered question. "Nobody's home. Mum has the night shift and Dad is still deployed."
He threw the key and his phone on the table in the hallway. I followed him to the kitchen.
"Do you want drink?" he asked, his slight Irish lilt making the words melt through my brain.
"No." I whispered, standing close to him. He smiled, leaning all too slowly down to kiss me. Ugh. I grabbed the back of his hair and pulled him in, looking him straight in the eye. "Just bloody well kiss me." and he did.
I took his hand and ran through the hall as fast as I could without falling and dragged him upstairs. He ducked under my arm and pulled me into his room, wrapping his arms around my waist and opening my mouth with his own. I kicked the door shut and he stepped backwards towards the bed, sitting down and bringing me with him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pushed him down, his hands ran up the back of my top underneath. I felt like his hands were leaving a trail of fire where they ran, a fire entirely different to the searing fire of a razor blade.
He grabbed the bottom of my top ant pulled it up over my head. That's when he saw all the cuts.

Even in the dark, they were quite visible. He pulled away, stopping kissing me. His blue eyes burned judgement and I knew what all the souls of the dead felt like when they reached the gates of heaven. But how should I be judged? Will he accept and forgive, or cast me aside for Lucifer?
With trembling hands he ran his fingers down the inside of my wrist, ancient scars like braille telling the story of my existence, but only the heartbreaks.
"Who did this to you?" He breathed.
"I did." my voice shook with fear.
"I, um, I need some air for a moment." He sniffed then left without waiting on my response.
Great, he hates me.
I began searching for my top, but it was dark, I had no idea where he'd put it, and 90% of his own clothes were black. Eventually I gave up and crawled under the covers to keep warm. He came back in within around 5 minutes, placing his phone on the desk. He didn't turn on the lights.
He crept over silently, looking to see if I'd fallen asleep.
"Stand up." He said.
I crawled out of his bed and stood in front of him. He sat down, the moonlight filtering though the slightly open blinds, throwing the scars into sharp relief.
He looked at my body, his eyes filling with tears.
I don't know how long we stayed like that until he reached for me. He took my left wrist first, running his fingers up the inside of my forearm. The same on my right. then he noticed my stomach. He placed his palm in the centre of my chest and ran it down slowly, touching every scar gently. I trembled, the silence was agonizing. His fingers rested on my jeans button. he didn't look at my face, only the cuts.
With one hand he undid my jeans. They practically fell off, but he helped them at the bottom by my calves. When he looked up at my thighs and hips he gasped.
"There's so many" his voice shook. "How could you go through this and not tell me?"
I wanted to answer that he was part of why I went trough it, but I just couldn't burden him like that. the guilt would consume him. He was so settled into his life, content and sure, I couldn't destroy that beauty, that innocence. Instead I simply said, "I'd like to taker you up on that offer of a drink now, if you don't mind."
He looked like I'd woken him from a dream, and perhaps I had. "Yeah, sparkling water?"
"Yeah please."

He left the room and I heard his phone vibrate. I reached for it and opened the message. It was Evan.

Evan: just ditch her m8 thats gross.

Ditch who? What's gross? I scrolled back through the convo.

Stuart: M8 i need ur help idk wot i shud do cos i just bought home dis girl nd shes covered in self harm scars.
Evan: eww dump her & get some1 who aint screwed up in the head
Stuart: but i really like her nd weve been 2gether 4 a while
Evan: nahh m8 tell her to off herself nd c if she does it
Stuart: I cnt do dat im gonna try talking 2 her nd c how bad it is i cn get her like scar remover nd stuff shes pretty wifout dem cuts just deyre so ugly
Evan: just ditch her m8 thats gross

I shook my head and grabbed my top, pulling it on inside out. I wriggled into my jeans and scrawled a note to Stuart:

What hope can we have together if we aren't even honest?
XO from your now ex-girlfriend and her "ugly" cuts.

I threw his phone against the wall, it didn't break (but it was a Nokia), it just made a loud noise that brought him running back upstairs.
"Emilie?!" he called bursting into the room, but I had already crawled out the window.

I considered going home and crying to my brother about it, but that w***** Evan was with him. God, it's crazy how you think you know a guy but then he turns out to be a shallow p****. Evan can comment about self harm being gross, the morbidly obese c***.
God, I was so angry, but thankful for it, it was better than crying in the gutter.
I stumbled into a Costa by the hospital, numbly realizing I was headed for Doctor West's Office. Damn, I need friends my own age who aren't my psychiatrist and don't live in Germany.
I ordered a hot chocolate and a brownie. it was quiet in there, there was only me and the staff. I sat down with my drink and sipped it slowly before I started to cry.
The girl who had served me looked up from the glass she was wiping and walked over to me. She sat across from me and placed a hand on my shoulder. i looked up, she was beautiful with scarlet hair and green eyes.
"Are you okay?" she asked with a slight French accent.
"No." I choked.
"Tell me about it?" she asked.
So I told her everything. When i finished she looked at me with sympathy.
"I will wait here with you until you can go home." she said.
"Thank you," I checked her name tag. "Genieve."
She smiled and someone else came in. Whilst she served them I logged on to Black Veil Brides fanfiction and messaged Jenny, knowing she probably wouldn't answer because it was 1 am there.

It was 4 am when Clarence texted me that the party had finished and everyone had left and asked where I was.
True to her word, Genieve hadn't left me, but she had fallen asleep. I left her £30 (which I kept for emergencies) for her trouble and scrawled her a note of thanks. I gave her a poke as I left the shop to make sure she woke up locked the door. i left without a word because I suck at goodbyes.

I came home around 4:30 and Clarence started grilling me. I told him the truth, I couldn't be bothered with lies. He went ballistic. I wouldn't want to be Evan when Clarence finds him. I let my brother scream an rant downstairs, blaming most of this on Stuart.
I just slept dreamlessly, for the first and last time in a long while.

Notes

-TheBunnyRegimeQueen.

sorry, quite a long chapter. May be another one from me later to make up for how long I took to do this. I had writer's block -.-

And comment which one you want to punch the most, Evan or Stuart? (Who ever gets the most comments wins a punch in the face from Emilie.) ^.^