Aubrey’s smile is so bright that it could light up the entire room, clearly showing how content and in love they are. Even if I don’t believe in true love. They continue to kiss each other while the ash-blonde girl clings to Grey behind Aubrey. She holds him close, her arm wrapped around his as if she wants her skin to meld with his.
It’s pathetic, truly.
She whispers words of adoration, yet his eyes stay trained on me. Every time his eyes meet mine, I feel something strange, an unfamiliar and yet unwanted emotion fluttering inside my chest.
Just as I’m about to leave again with Ray, I feel his presence extremely close to me. My breath catches in my throat as I pause, the stillness surrounding me as I wait for what comes next. The familiar scent of dark floral mixed with something earthy wafts through my nostrils, sending me into a spiral of hope and pleasure. He’s close enough that I feel his breath on me, a blend of mint and melon from his chewing gum; it’s refreshing.
Without saying a word, he grabs my hand and pulls me away from Ray and the others. Ray stares at me, and Grey barks at him, a command or something, but I can’t hear him behind the pounding in my ears. Blood rushes in my ears as I stare at him, lips parted and a gaze showcasing my disbelief. I am stuck in a trance as he stands before me, pressing me against the wall with such force it could have hurt me had he not kept his other hand on the back of my head.
We are completely alone in the corridor that is far from the reception where no rooms exist. There seems to be something wrong with the electricity because the lights blink from time to time, leaving us in the dark. I see his chest rise, anger racing through his veins as he holds me, never once breaking eye contact or releasing his grip on me. Slowly but surely, he places his other hand on my hip. Holding me against the wall, our clothes softly rustling against each other, we remain there while not uttering a single word. The only noise filling the air is our breaths and I feel our chests expanding and contracting with each breath in a rhythmical pattern. My eyes try to ignore his gaze as he stares at me. We stand like that in staccato, neither of us breaking contact, electricity seeping and vibrating between us. If someone touched one of us right now, they would be hit by a shock. That’s how tangible it is.
A wave of unwelcome anticipation sweeps through me, gathering my stomach as he holds me down with his gaze, and I feel something warm rushing down my insides, from the top of my chest down to the bottom of my stomach.
A calming sensation spread through him from a single glance between us. He relaxes, but he doesn’t let go of me, and his touch burns my skin, threatening to ignite the flames inside me like gasoline. I squirm under his gaze, not trusting my body enough to be close to him. He gives me a knowing smile and those perfect, kissable lips curling slightly inwards. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, calming myself down as I return to our reality, where everything is messed up, and no one is right in their minds. Why am I even standing here with him? I cannot comprehend why I let him pull me along this mysterious corridor as if I’m a puppet he can manipulate in any way he wishes.
When I try to break free from his grip, he refuses to let me go, his hand gripping the flesh on my thigh as his other hand–the one behind my head–slowly glides down to my cheek, brushing away a hair strand. Reacting without thinking, I run my fingers through the luxurious, crimson-red hair strand hanging over his one eye. Despite the stark contrast between his deep red-black hair and bright blue eyes, his unique look is a surprisingly attractive combination that many women find irresistible.
Not me. Definitely not me.
I try to push him away from me one more time, and the look I see in his eyes is the kind of devastation a child would give when abandoned by their parents. His gaze breaks my heart, and I feel his desperation. He feels the need to be close to someone; I know because I have felt it before. It pains me to watch his eyes when I inspect him, as they remind me of myself. I almost feel like he has cast a spell on me, controlling and keeping me still. His gaze captures me, and my body no longer resists him.
But in the next second, that vulnerable look disappears and is replaced by one I don’t want to be near. As I watch him control himself, his eyes darken, and the muscles in his face clench, though it isn’t enough. I see the way the rage thrums through him, and he leans closer to my ear as his breath burns against my skin.
“You cannot fucking tell anyone what we saw.”
I hesitate for a moment, not knowing what he’s saying, but then it all comes together in my head as if the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle have come together.
“Are you kidding me? Of course, we have to tell someone. It’s fucking murder!”
His hand covers mine, causing my stomach to flutter before I can grasp reality again. In a state of panic, he looks around to ensure no one is near.
“Shh, you can’t talk that loudly! You don’t understand. You can’t tell anyone. Not a single soul. Do you understand me, Naya?”
I understand him, but I am momentarily frozen as my name falls from his lips, and it feels like a call from the heavens. He is a fallen angel calling my name, luring me to heaven’s gate before taking me down to the crestfallen.
His grip on my hip hardens, and I’m afraid he will draw blood from me. “Do you understand?”
All I can do is nod, paralyzed by his impact on me and how my body reacts. But then he utters something that leaves me in a state of total disarray and confusion.
“You’re a little doll, aren’t you?”
His gaze as he looks at me is not one of hostility or aggression but rather one of curiosity and wonder.
“E-excuse me?”
My heart rate rises as the corridor spins around me, my mind racing with his nickname for me. A nickname that only comes from one place. How does he know about it?
But then it all makes sense. Grey must know the master, which means he has come to take me away. He’s fooled me this entire time. Something crashing inside me makes me wonder whether to laugh or cry at that realization.
“Relax,doll.”
He observes my reaction, waiting for me to crumble beneath his touch, and I know he won’t be the one to catch me. Grey must have come here to taunt me, and then it’s suddenly the master from Grimhill Manor I see in front of me, with that all too wide smile plastered on his lips, and a sob tears my chest apart.
“Why are you doing this to me?” In a fit of rage and desperation, I scream out, my cheeks stained with tears.
I find myself looking at Grey again, his thumb wiping away my tears before he licks them off, and I’m so confused that all I can do is stare.
“So perfectly beautiful and tainted,” he whispers. “I heard the nickname from the staff while you were out, wanted to see your reaction. Stop being so weak, darling. You’re crumbling apart.”
