Violet Detours (BOOK 2) : Badly, Madly, Deeply

The Wrong Half

The next thing she knew, something warm pressed against her lips, gentle but expressing value and respect and affection Lesley had never felt from anyone before that it tug something in her gut and she received his kiss, and started responding to it, slowly at first, but gradually turning certain and welcoming by the second.

She could taste Granger's breath in her mouth as they started running out of breath, one of his hands curling at her back as the other cupped her face, his force pushing her against the headboard of the bed.

But it didn't hurt. She didn't understand what she was feeling at all.

All she knew was his lips tasted good in her mouth, and she doubted if she could ever do something this free ever again.

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Gusion found himself restless the next night.

He couldn't get the thought of Guinevere leaving that night out of his head.

The whole day he kept his eyes on her, making sure she was around the room. And when she was out of sight, he would feel a bit of panic and he would go around, secretly looking for her, which was pretty easy, considering how she was always in her room.

It at night he'd gone worse.

While inside his room, he was so sensitive to the sound of footsteps and voices, always thinking if they were Guinevere's and Dyrroth's. But it always ended up someone else's.

Why was he being paranoid anyway? Why was he being so concerned about some other girl?

He knew he should only be thinking of Lesley. But no matter how hard he tried to get Guinevere out of his mind, he just didn't have the ability to do so.

When the night went deep, he even resorted to sitting outside of his door, feeling stupid as he stared at the dark wall across him but determined to stop the lady from leaving when he catches her coming out.

But hours passed and there were still no sign of movement from Guinevere's room. He'd gotten up a couple of times, pressed his ear against the door in the hopes of hearing voices. But there was just silence inside.

Once, he panicked that she must have already left through the window. So he ended up silently opening the door in the slightest opening and peering inside. Relief washed through him like a giant wave when he saw her curled up in bed.

So he went back to his position by the door, not taking chances.

Just when he was already dozing off, he almost jumped when he heard the door open.

He sprung to his feet when he saw her coming out, a dark cloak covering her all the way down her ankles.

She looked surprised when she saw him, but still closed the door behind her and walked down the corridor.

"Why are you outside?" She asked.

"Couldn't sleep." He answered, feeling stupid right after.

Who stays outside his room when he couldn't sleep?

He couldn't understand why he was nervous and why his fingers started trembling that he had to clench his hands into fist to stop them.

"Going somewhere?" He asked.

How was he going to stop her from leaving?

She looked up at him, stared for about three seconds before looking straight ahead. "Just...somewhere."