@LightxShadow I love ur comments. Keep being amazing (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡
Random fact: The Chesire cat's first appearance in literature was in the 18th century, in a classical dictionary of the vulgar tongue (1788) by Francis Grose. The phrase 'Chesire grin' is a really old and common one.
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"It..."
I stared at his enticing lips as they moved. Oh what I'll give to feel them on mine again.
No Lilly! You're a staunch feminist and you do not want this chauvanist to kiss you.
"Is it very hard to speak her name?" I mumbled, transfixed on his timeless visage.
You do not want this chauvanist to kiss you!
He wet his lips again. "Yes."
I tucked my head down and snuggled into his chest. "Then will it be easier if you describe her?" His arms, one around my shoulder and the other on my waist, tightened involuntarily, immediately enveloping me in a blanket of warmth and security.
The once blaring vociferation in my mine faded gradually, certain words disappearing in the course of its speech. Want this chauvinist to kiss you.
Yes I indeed wanted him to kiss me.
Mr Ambrose cleared his throat softly and his fingers unconsciously came up to fiddle with strands of my dark hair. "She has brown hair."
The voice in my head continued to die down to become a tranquil whisper. Want him to kiss me.
"How long is it?"
"Shoulder length."
Want him to kiss me.
"I see."
He cleared his throat again.
"Do you have a cough, sir?" I asked, genuinely concerned. It would be quite troublesome for him to fall sick wouldn't it? He would not be able to earn his precious money if he were to be ill.
"No I'm fine."
I brushed it off. His health wasn't really my problem. I was his secretary, not private babysitter.
"What colour are her eyes?" I queried. Perculiarly, I no longer felt the vicious green beast in my tummy. It was instead replaced by an orb of warmth and honey.
I tilted my head up in his direction. My eyes fluttered shut when he ran a thumb over my lids. "They're the colour of melted chocolate with flecks of gold. It occasionally gives the illusion of inner flames."
"They sound pretty." Solid chocolate was my favourite food, and its liquid version came in a close second.
"They are."
I couldn't believe that the man hugging me was none other than Mr Ambrose. He was utilising superfluous words to describe this woman, something that he commonly classified as a waste of time. He must love her a lot.
"What about her skin?"
He ran a slender index finger down the side of my cheek, making me shiver. "It's soft,"
"Like a baby's butt?" I asked.
His lips pulled up by by an inch and his body reverberated. Mr Ambrose was laughing?
The vibration stopped after a while but the small smile didn't. "If that's how you'll like to call it, Miss Linton."
Yes! He has finally recognised me as female! I mentally fist pumped the air.
YOU ARE READING
After the Storm
Fanfiction*After the Storm* After the perilous journey to retrieve a file of paramount importance, and a trip to the desert to hunt down bandits, Lilly Linton believed that the turmoil had come to an end. But what happens when the ghosts of Mr Rikkard Ambrose...
