Mischievous Secret | J. Potter | R. Black

C H A P T E R | T H I R T Y - O N E

I wonder if I could go to the upcoming gala with him. Even when he straightened me out, I was positive that I wouldn't remain as submissive as he would prefer me to be. I would not just let him boss me around, but I would still do my best to project a respectable image and be courteous.

My mind would not shut up, even though I wanted to get some sleep. It simply wants me to think excessively about matters over which I had no control.

I was still watching the events unfold in my perspective with my eyes firmly shut, leaving poisoned scars across my entire body.

With my eyes closed, I suddenly spotted how luminous the blackness had become. The basement door was cracked open by someone. I waited for Dorey to say anything since I knew she would address me by my title in this house, but instead of that, tranquility descended and shrouded me in an unknown presence. It suggests a sense of familiarity and anticipation of recognition.

I was taunted by it and found it impossible to resist seeing my uncle's expression, although what it painted was fairly abstract.

Bluish eyes.

It was promising distinctive and exceptionally lovely in the middle of the night.

He grinned, pleasure gleaming in his eyes, "To think that you would welcome me with such a spectacle."

It was not the same as before, when all I could do was imagine his presence in the distance or hear the sound of his voice. It was like he had just materialised out of my thoughts during our first exchange. When I looked at the door, I saw that it was closed. The light I'd spotted before emerged from out of the isolation, where I could have previously produced the chamber's entrance.

My sense of reason held firm despite the peculiarity of the circumstances.

"Get the fuck out."

His smile grows even wider as he studies my appearance. He likely believes I'm the worst person alive.

"You look divine, darling."

He chuckles heartily at my display, so I guess I looked perturbed by his remarks. Only crazy people like this monster with the blue eyes would, of course, enjoy viewing me like this.

"Trust me, I could envision a more desirable position for you," he replied. I became even more enraged upon realising what he had done.

"Stop invading my mind."

Then he drew nearer to me until I was able to taste him, the scent of chaos at its center and the dark forest becoming moist over the storming night, violently fragrant but without scent. It was death in all its vibrant glory.

"I'm afraid I have little oversight over that. I couldn't even if I attempted not to hear it. It was so resounding that what you're thinking rebounds off that pretty head of yours," he said as he spoke to me, "I wasn't reading your mind, girl. It was reverberating out to me, extending the cruelty from your perspective of me."

That was excellent. It meant that regardless of whether he was stuck someplace inside my thoughts, he couldn't actually read anything if he chose to. It felt more like my thoughts were vibrating with such intensity that they could be heard where he is hidden.

We have this understanding despite the vagueness of my question, "How did you get out?"

"You called out to me, darling." I experienced a flood of overwhelming emotions that ranged from pain to dread. I was overcome with the miserable sensation that I was going to have terrible days.

With clenched teeth, I said, "You could have overlooked it."

My hate-love relationship with his deep blue eyes was at the forefront of my gaze that had been fixed on the floor, more precisely on his polished shoes.