Taken

chapter three

THAT NIGHT, AURELIA WAKES UP SCREAMING.

She'd dreamed of him, his hands roaming down her body, leaving behind a trail of whimpers and pleads for him to stop. She'd dreamed of the way he'd kissed her, so urgently, and yet it wasn't the kind of kiss in which he'd been dying to taste her; it was a rushed kiss, an explosion of tongues and teeth, in which he couldn't wait any longer to destroy her.

"Aurelia."

She whimpers from her spot curled up on the bed, her knees tucked tightly to her chest as if she's afraid to allow herself to breathe. Her eyelashes flutter above closed lids, and she'd be lying if she'd said she wasn't afraid of opening her eyes.

"Look at me, Aurelia. Open your eyes."

She swallows tightly, then turns slightly, her eyes fluttering open to find Sawyer kneeling by her bedside, his eyebrows scrunched in worry and his hair tousled, as if he'd run his fingers through the strands one too many times. However, it's the look in his eyes that entrances Aurelia—the knowing sadness that he tries to hide, shielding himself with another, safer emotion.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly.

Aurelia swallows, tears glistening on her eyelashes. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

Sawyer's gaze shutters. "Don't be sorry for something that wasn't your fault," he says, his voice rough at the edges. "Whoever hurt you enough in order for me to be here right now does not deserve your apologies."

Her throat tightens, and for a brief moment, she debates telling him what happened. Somehow, in his quiet, steady presence, she feels as if he'll listen to anything she'll say with a passion, and still keep her secret stored in the depths of his shuttered gaze.

"Go back to sleep, Aurelia," Sawyer says softly. "You need to rest. I'll wake you in the morning."

She closes her eyes, a small sound escaping her. "I don't want to go back to sleep, Sawyer," she says quietly. She swallows, then finally admits in a whisper, "Sleep scares me."

He hesitates, but finally, his eyes soften, and he stands, offering her a hand.

"What're we doing?" she asks, a note of confusion laced into her voice.

He smiles, amused. "Not sleeping."

━━━━━━━

THEY END UP WATCHING OCEAN'S 8—a comfort movie, and one that Aurelia finds herself being immersed in often. It's simple, allowing herself to sink into the depths of a mastermind's plan; simpler, to watch familiar scenes play out across the screen.

However, what's more difficult is being curled up on her couch with Sawyer standing against her kitchen counter, simply observing. It'd always been her and her movies, even back when she'd lived with her grandmother for a couple of years, back when her parents were still figuring things out between the two of them. Sitting on her couch now, though, a myriad of questions trickles through her mind—questions like whether or not things will always be like this now, simply having someone there all the time.

"Aurelia."

She startles, her gaze finding Sawyer's in the near darkness. The vast windows on one side of the apartment were covered by curtains before, but Sawyer had drawn them so the view of London and the stars shone through.