Destiny

Chapter 3: Amelia

Amelia

God, my head hurts. I lift from my bed, groggily rubbing at my temples. My eyes stay closed. Not one part of my body wants to wake up and see the sun that I know is spearing through my bedroom window.

I must have drank too much again.

I mentally prepare myself before opening my eyes. Honestly, I don't want to feel so alone in my empty bed. I don't want to pass by the unused nursery. I don't want to see whatever mess I made in the living room or kitchen.

Finally, after a few long minutes, I opened my eyes.

I scramble out of the bed, realizing that this isn't actually my bed. Eyes wide, I span the expanse of the room. Dark wood encapsulates me, as if I am in some antique box. Large window panes climb up the wall, reaching the ceiling at a point. Lush forest trees replace the usual landscape of towering skyscrapers and suggestive billboards outside of the window.

This is not my house.

My head falls in my hands, and I have the urge to smack myself in the face. "What the hell happened?" I asked myself.

But I was met with the black void of a mind filled with no memories, no recollection of how the hell I got into what seems to be a cabin and not my sky  rise apartment building. The last thing I remember is saying goodbye to Sophie and leaving the office to go home.

A whine climbs up my throat as fear trickles into my system. I slowly peer through my fingers, as if some monster would come out at any minute and maul me.

The room seems lived in and gentle. In front of the bed, which was layered in fur blankets, sat floor to ceiling bookshelves. Literature of all genres were stacked within the cavities of the shelf, with bright colored annotation tabs sticking out of some of the pages.

A fireplace was nestled in the middle of the room, a fresh fire already stoked and candles that were placed in an antique looking chandelier looked as if they were just recently blown out.

Another surge of fear runs through me. I look down to make sure that I am still in the same clothing, and a sigh of relief escapes my lips when I see the same black button up top and dark washed jeans.

Okay, time to figure out where you are, Amelia.

My feet pad on the lush fur carpet as I make my way around the bed. I go past dark wooden dressers and ornate wood carvings. I quietly make my way to a door with a golden doorknob that winks at me in the morning sunlight. With a shaky hand, I turn the doorknob.

The smell of waffles and fresh fruit wafts into my nose as I enter the open concept living room of whatever house I have gotten myself stuck into. Now that I think about it, I have never been a crazy drunk. I didn't stand on kitchen tables or end up in random rooms with lampshades on my head. I definitely never got myself in someone else's house from drinking in the comfort of my own living room.

How did I get here?

The question makes the headache I woke up with bloom back in temples, but I try my best to ignore my brain pounding at my skull.

As I gingerly make my way through the foreign house, I question my sanity. Even as the sweeping living room comes into vision, with more fur rugs decorating the rustic wooden floors, and smoke tendrils whirling up from blown out candles, I slightly believe that this is all a dream and I have drank myself into a coma.

I pinch myself as I pass the coffee table, which is a work of art in itself, with wooden doves sealed in resin acting as the glass which is held up by ornamented wood carved in a way that makes it look like the sky. The pain erupts in my arm, and I realize that this experience is very real, and somehow, I've messed up really bad.

Following the smell of freshly baked goods and seared meats, I find myself peeking behind the archway that connects the living space to a kitchen truly meant for a Michelin chef.

The kitchen far exceeds the cabin-y vibe that you get from the rest of the house. The old, rustic charm has been shifted into a newer, more modern, rustic chic, filling the kitchen with stoves that look as if they cost more than my salary (and I make a generous salary, if I do say so myself), gray counters with beautifully crafted counter tops, and a large, wooden table fit to seat at least twelve people.

But the kitchen wasn't what surprised me the most. My eyes widened, not at the expensive looking pans that hang artfully over the stove, but the person standing in front of the deep apron sink.

His back faced me and my cheeks heated at the sight. I don't know how the hell I ended up in this man's house. He was out of my league for a one night stand and I knew for certain I had never met him before in my life. If I had, I would know without a doubt.

The lustful part of myself begged to keep drinking in the sight of him. Even though I couldn't see his face, I knew that he had to be handsome. His muscles weren't carved from excessive exercise in the gym, but something more natural, more rugged, more...

But the reasonable part of me, the one that strives to keep me alive rather than dead, screamed at me to run or fight. It kicked adrenaline in my veins and shouted the questions I had avoided acknowledging into my head. If you didn't drink yourself here, how did you get here? It asked. Did you come here by your own intentions?

I gasped at the thought, and the man must've heard me, because he turned around slowly, expectantly.

"Oh, you're awake. We have a lot to talk about." His voice flows into my head, so melodically. His deep, warm voice did things to my mind, jumbling up the flowing thoughts that had previously flowed so neatly.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I stumbled backwards, "Don't touch me. Who the hell are you?" My voice shook, but I tried my best to appear strong. To be seen as something unbreakable. Even though that was simply a facade. I'm not strong. I am certainly breakable. But he doesn't need to know that.

"The name's Dean," he said calmly, turning back to look out of the window. "Look, whatever you're thinking isn't right. I'm not here to hurt you. But we do have a lot to talk about, so please, take a seat and we can talk this out over breakfast."

I shook my head, because despite the calmness of his voice, despite the reassurance it gave me, I still couldn't believe it. Hell, how am I supposed to? I wake up, in the middle of what seems to be a forest with no recollection of where I am and how I got here, what else am I supposed to think other than the worst?

I took another step back, glancing at the front door as I did so. I looked back at the mystery man, prepared to run.

His blue eyes meet mine, and immediately recognition flashes through them. "I wouldn't run if I were you."

But I was already out of the door by the time he finished his sentence.

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Hi!!! <3 This is a shorter chapter. I am back in University and taking more classes to make up for not taking summer classes, so I am a bit busy. BUT I got this done!!! I am loving this story. It is honestly such a breath of fresh air for me and I hope that it is for whoever reads it as well.

Alsoooo...I really want to make this into a paperback edition and self publish Destiny...eventually. <3 So please, if anyone has any constructive criticism, don't hesitate to comment. 

Until next time, mwahs!