𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

44 || All Mine

I pull open the door, prepared to slit the throat of whoever's on the other side, but the second I open the door and catch sight of those soft brown Bambi eyes, I cant find it in me to do so.

It was pathetic.

I continue blinking at her, and judging from the way she keeps shifting, the stone cold look on my face makes her uncomfortable.

"Hey," She breathes. I don't bother to respond and it only causes her shoulders to bunch up, her posture beyond awkward. Like she's completely out of her element. I'd find it cute if I weren't so fucking pissed at her. "They're hosting a dinner down in one of the banquet halls-"

"Got it," I respond, my tone clipped as I proceed to shut the door in her face.

It's a shitty thing to do. But in order for me to actually succeed in avoiding her, I needed to scare her off.

I was borderline obsessed when she was around, so I highly doubted I could stay away from her on my own.

Another knock sounds on the door and I grit my teeth.

I wasn't going to open it.

"What." I snap once I open the door and narrow my eyes at her, impatiently as though I had much better things to do than be in her presence.

I didn't.

"Could you please zip up my dress for dinner?" She asks softly, blinking up at me.

I glance down to see her clutching the front of her dress to her chest and my narrowed gaze zeros in on the tight fucking dress. I didn't know what the fuck they called these dresses, but the fact that it had no sleeves and was so tight was really pissing me off.

"Ask someone else to do it."

Her shoulders drop an inch. "I'll ask Father Kade..." She reluctantly nods, turning around and I have to grind my teeth to stop myself from speaking up.

She continues down the hall and I eye her exposed back from the open zipper. And judging from the hints of red peeking out from her bra and underwear, I know she's in the replacement set I'd ordered from the time where I'd ripped the lingerie.

The lingerie she'd bought for me.

I fully intend to close the door.

My hand even tightens around the handle, so hard that I'm a squeeze away from breaking it.

I'm going to do it.

But the thought of someone else - much less a slimly old fucking prick having his hands anywhere near her makes me want to burn every last inch of this place to the fucking ground. "Come here-"

"Okay." She cuts me off, wasting no time in spinning around and dashing past me and into my room.

Tension racks through my body as I close the door and turn to see her standing in-front of the large four poster bed in the center of the room, her back to me.

I work quick. Stepping towards her and moving her hair to one side - forcing away the urge to bury my hands in it and use it to tug her body back until she's molded to me - before reaching down to zip up the dress. I don't let my fingers linger nor do I let them brush the bare skin of her lower back.