Captured by Her |WLW|

CHAPTER : SEVEN

Vera

I never wanted to take a life, but that very sentiment was on the brink of getting shattered as I looked at the door, hearing my assistant annoying voice,

I looked at talia, she was so close, so dangerously close to surrendering herself to this desire, to me.

Her eyelids lowered, a silent plea etching on her face, urging for me to close the distance, waiting for me to kiss her.

And I bet my life and everything I own, she would have let me.

But of course the person who wrote my fate has other idea. Just as our lips were about to meet, my ever-oblivious assistant swing open the door, a harsh intrusion to this moment of stolen intimacy.

And no, they didn't find us in this compromising position, I mean I don't mind her in my lap, but this would undoubtedly invite judgemental whispers and crude gossip.

I don't want that for her,

I won't let anyone hurt her.

So I allowed her to slip away, again.

My patience, my self-restraint all dangerously wearing thin.

I mean, I didn't like how close that wolf-cut girl was with her in the studio and I definitely don't like how close she was dancing with her right now.

The way she was invading Talia's personal space is setting me on edge.

I'm not stalking or anything, but I couldn't take my eyes off her.

After the way we left things, how the hell could everything be normal?

She had this presence that sucked me in, clouding my judgment. That's why I'm in this club, on this dance floor. She can't see me, but she's all I see.

Every part of me wanted to go to her, pull her close, and just soak up her presence.

And her clinging to her friends is making it worse.

Once she moved away from them, and her friends disappeared into the club's heart, I couldn't resist it, I gave in.

The club buzzed with energy, the music throbbing in the background, neon lights casting an glow on her made everything electric.

Like moth drawn to flame, I followed her through the crowd, my gaze locked on to her figure, the dress, clinging to her is killing me, it was pure torture.

And as oblivious as ways, she entered the restroom, unaware of the fact that someone is following her.

Soft lights, a stark contrast to the chaos outside beyond its door.

With a deceptive nonchalance, she approached the sink, her own reflection dancing in the foggy mirror like a sultry seductress.

Closing the distance, I could feel the beat of the music in my chest. timed with the sultry beat of the club. The room itself seamed to hold its breath, aware of the palpable tension between us.

She splashed her face, and when she saw my reflection on the mirror, a sharp, breathless gasp escaped her lips. She looked startled.

Okay, I didn't mean to scare her, I understand if you saw a shadowy, hooded figure in a dimly lit restroom's reflection, anyone would be scared.

It isn't entirely my fault either, I just don't want to be recognized, that'll complicate things.

I quickly removed my hoodie, revealing my face,

Her eyes told a story of surprise, a trace of recognition and unmistakable shades of desire,

"What are you doing here?" she breathed out, voice all raspy.