secrets // h.s.

chapter nine.

I was an absolute mess.

I hadn't even stayed at Sebastian's office to complete the interview with the woman who was actually meant to be asking me questions. I had let out a fearful apology as I gathered my things from the room, slinging my bag over my shoulder and rushing from the room.

Upon heading into the stairwell - because I wouldn't risk taking the elevator to find him there - I let out a choked breath, leaning against the railing. It had been him. He had been here, in my office.

The Masked Man.

After spending about twenty minutes spazzing in the ninth floor stairwell, I went home. I didn't take a taxi, I didn't take the train, I walked.

"Oh my god," I let out with a shake of my head, running a hand through my hair, still attempting to cope. Of course, I had told him that I was an intern with NYT, so he would've known where I worked. But to have actually dared to come in, to pose as someone else?

I should've known it was him, I should've. The fake blonde in his hair didn't match his dark eyebrows, his green gaze was hidden behind glasses, and he had failed miserable at masking his unique English accent. It was him, there was no doubt. He had followed me, and had found me.

The buzzing in my back pocket nearly caused me to stumble and fall with how my body jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. I pulled the phone out of my pocket, my breath coming unsteadily as I answered, without reading the Caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Belle, what the hell happened?"

Sebastian.

"Cassandra called me just now, said some man was inside my office with you, then he ran out and you ran out after? Who was it, Belle, are you okay?" He rushed out before I could even get out my own response.

"It was him, Sebastian, he- he was there."

There was silence on the other end of the line, as Sebastian sat in thought, before there was an exhale of breath.

"The Masked Man?"

It was my turn to be quiet now. God, I felt like breaking down on the sidewalk, crying. He hadn't hurt me, my life wasn't threatened, but this- this was like something out of an overly-dramatic soap.

But I should've known it wouldn't be the last of him when I drove away from him after getting my photo.

"Belle, where are you? I don't have any more meetings or appointments for the day, or for tonight either. I'm staying with you," Sebastian told me adamantly, and I let out a small breath, not arguing. It would make me feel a lot better. I had already planned on telling Rory to make Mikey stay over for a night.

"I'm going back to campus, to my dorm room."

"Which one? Which building?"

He was going to stay at my dorm with me? How awkward would that be.

"No, sir- you don't have to stay in my dorm with me. There'd be no room anyhow, we don't have a sofa. Only a bed each and a kitchen and bathroom," I informed him, turning a corner, campus up ahead.

"Then you're staying with me, Belle. I'm not leaving you alone, I- I feel somewhat responsible," he mumbled, and I could picture his brows furrowed above his eyes in worry as they had been the day prior.

Jesus, I'd only been working for NYT for a few meager days, and already this had happened.

"You mean at your home? Sebastian, I couldn't ask you to-"