The Boy With The Silver Lighter **ON HIATUS**

**Sequel to 'The Boy With The Red Sunglasses'.** It has been a week since the funeral of Evelyn James, a funeral that shouldn't have happened. Because Evelyn is not dead, although she might as well be. With the order to stay away from her friends, family and the boy she loves, Evelyn has no choice but to go back to the boy who caused her death - the boy with the silver lighter.


7. Fresh Pancakes

Again she woke in the middle of the night screaming his name. It hurts. I love her. I'm the one who's there for her now. Surely, she can see that the X-Man wasn't any good for her in the first place. He held her down, made her feel small. I'm not like that. I understand how she's feeling. Why won't she love me? If she can fall for goggle boy, why can't she fall for me?
I slip from the bed gently, careful not to wake her. She looks so beautiful and peaceful. The sight of her in my bed gives me butterflies. Ugh. I sound so weak. What is she doing to me?
Tugging on some casual, ripped jeans, I make my way down the stairs, before pushing back the curtains to reveal the early morning light. I place my hand on the window and look out over the New York skyline. Living on the top floor sucks sometimes - having to walk up and down the stairs so much when the elevator breaks - but the view is definitely worth it. In my dreams, I have seen myself looking out of this window with Evelyn wrapped in my arms, a loving smile on her lips. She'd kiss me, and tell me she loved me. But then I wake up, and everything's back to how it was.
I close my eyes for a second, sighing heavily, before heading to the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, I search for the reason - any reason - why Evelyn doesn't want me. Maybe it's my clothes, I mean; the jeans are a bit tacky.
I let my eyes glide upwards over my body's reflection. Maybe it's my figure. I squeeze and tug at the skin over my lower abdomen to determine how much excess weight I'm carrying. I've actually lost more weight than ever these past weeks. After I learnt of Evelyn's death, I refused to eat. What was the point of eating anyway?
As my eyes move up my reflection, I soon reach the moment when I am locking eyes with myself. Maybe she just doesn't like me. I'm hardly the nicest guy on earth, but I do what I must to get by. Still, I wouldn't blame her if she hated me. Hell, sometimes even I hate me.
But then again, maybe it's my looks. The cheesy, Aussie blond hair, the dull blue eyes - I look like some bad cliché. I'm not 'hot' or 'sexy'. And I'm definitely not the kind of pretty boy you could take home to your parents. Maybe I'm just not attractive enough.
"You're very attractive, John." I turn with a start to see her stood in the door way behind me.
"Evelyn." I gasp. "I thought you were still in bed."
"I was." She smiles, approaching me slowly. "But then I heard your thoughts."
"You did?" Oh god. No. This is embarrassing.
"Oh." Is the only word I can find to respond with.
"Why do you think you're not attractive enough?" She whispers, coming closer.
"I don't." I lie.
"Don't lie to me." She places her hands on my waist.
"I'm not." Another lie.
"John." She warns.
"Why won't you love me?" I blurt out, immediately regretting it. I'm supposed to be strong!
"That's what this is about?" Confusion consumes her expression.
"No!" I lie again, before sighing heavily. She's going to find out somehow. "Yes."
"John, I've had feelings for you for a long time, but every time I come close to loving you, you give me a reason not to." I notice that she knots her fingers nervously.
"But I love you." I beg, as if it's going to do anything.
"Think of all the shit you've done to me over the past few months. You've really screwed me over. And, more importantly, you've really hurt me. Can't you see that?" I can. Now more than ever. But it seems that every time I look into her eyes since her return, I've seen nothing but pain - pain I've caused. And now, as I look down at her, and I'm begging her to love me, I realize. Why would she? She's right. The things I've done to her are unforgivable.
"Do you hate me?" I ask, my voice unrecognizably weak.
"No, John." She forces a smile. "After what the professor did to me, I've learnt what deserves to be hated. You do not."
"But you don't like me, right?" I brace myself for the inevitable answer. Why was I so naive to think that she would want me after everything I've done to her?
"I forgive you."
"What?" How could she forgive me?
"I forgive you." She repeats. "Yes, some of this is your fault, but I need you. I have no one else. And you're so special to me. I can't just let you go."
"But everything I did..." My disbelief is evident. "I ruined your life... Twice!"
"Yes, but if it wasn't for you, I'd still be waking up alone in a crummy motel." I shudder at the thought of what would have happened had she not come to me. "Instead, I'm waking up in a comfy bed with a caring, fun and extremely attractive boy."
"Evelyn, I'm really so sorry. You have to see how much I hate myself for the shit I put you through." I whisper.
"It's okay. Like I said, I forgive you. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to fall in love again. Especially with you." Ouch. "No offense." She adds quickly.
"I want you to know," I use our telepathic connection for my confession, too fearful to actually speak the words aloud. "I'll wait forever for you, Evelyn Hannah James. And I will love you, always."
"Thank you." She whispers, before a cheeky smile claims her lips. "Now, I'm going back to bed. I'll be awaiting my fresh pancakes."
"Fresh pancakes?" I raise my eyebrows at her subtle demand.
"Uh huh. I want breakfast in bed." She smirks.
"Is the sight of me topless not delicious enough for you, sweetcheeks?" I wink at her.
"I can't deny that it's kind of..." She pauses, looking me up and down and biting her lip. "Appealing. But nothing beats pancakes and maple syrup in bed."
"Wait, I don't have any maple syrup." I call after her as she leaves the room.
"Well, go buy me some, then." She orders cheekily.
This girl is unbelievable!

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