𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒

𝐯 𝐢 𝐠 𝐢 𝐧 𝐭 𝐢 𝐪 𝐮 𝐚 𝐭 𝐭 𝐮 𝐨 𝐫

I R E N I C
(adj.) promoting peace

• • •

Taking in a harsh breath, I snapped my head up that was dropped down. Opening my eyes to see nothing but the darkness still, it made me panic internally. He really covered my eyes, who is this son of a bitch?

My hands were tied, behind me may I add, but they didn't have anything around my mouth.

I didn't fail to notice the strong scent of a cologne present with me, it reeked of power with a little hint of whiskey — where the hell are we?

Well, wherever we are, I can feel a presence right in front of me. Weirdly, it intimidated me, which rarely happens. Even though I'm blindfolded, I can feel his gaze burning into me. I wonder how long this sicko's been staring at me.

"Who are you?" Who is this bitchass?

I heard a him let out a small breath, his presence intimidating me even more. "Amara Torres—"

"That's my name, I asked for yours." I interrupted him. However, the depth in his voice brought goosebumps to erupt over my skin.

He went silent. That's not a good sign. "Now's not the time to be funny, don't you think, Torres?" He mocked me, sarcasm laced in his voice; words rolling off his tongue like velvet as he had a hint of a british accent; even in Italy, huh?

"I wasn't trying to be, but nice to know at least someone finds me funny." I retorted and I heard him snigger.

"Do I not scare you?" I felt him move forward, his knee grazing against mine with a small eruption of shock going down my leg. "Intimidate you at least?" I felt his presence closer to me, and yes, I do feel the intimidation and I don't like it. So I say this in the kindest way possible, back the fuck up.

"Nothing scares me, or intimidates me but you know what I do feel?" I asked him with a sarcastically polite voice to which he hummed questioningly. "Uncomfortable." I said with a serious tone, moving my knee away and pushing myself back into the leather seat even more — we're in a car.

Now it makes sense. The hint of whiskey in the air, him so close to me and the feeling of suffocation, plus we're obviously moving. I'm a genius.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable there, Torres." I heard him shuffle back, his knee now not in my personal bubble. "Are you mistaking intimidation with uncomfortableness, by any chance?" He cockily asked and if I could, I'd roll my eyes so hard.

"I'm not a child, I'm capable of understanding my emotions." I retorted, answering back to his cockiness.

"Of course you're not, Torres," He spoke casually, the smell of his cologne lingering in the air so heavily. "But let me ask you a question." Is this why's he's called me here? To ask fucking questions?

"Go ahead, not like I can say no." I jerked my brow, waiting for him to talk.

"You have quite the attitude there, don't you, Torres?" He lowly chuckled under his breath, and that weirdly made my stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Is that your question?" I sarcastically asked. "If so, yes, now my turn." My attitude will be the death of me, but seems like he doesn't mind it. Unless he actually does and without any warning he kills me... he won't do that — right?