The man who carried me, or more like dragged me, into the room the night before leaned down to my eye level. His emerald eyes settled on my brown ones. A small part of me, the part that acknowledged the beauty of the man in front of me, sighed and melted like butter on a hot summer day. His straight nose and strong jaw were crafted with the intent to disarm.
But women don't crumble in the face of adversity, even if this particular adversity was in the form of a six foot something, mouth watering man. I steeled my stomach against the fluttering, no, twitching, of butterfly wings that seemed to come alive as the man leaned forward the slightest bit. We were sharing the same oxygen with how close we were. Our breaths mingling as my brown eyes clashed with his green ones.
We hadn't spoken much since a few choice words were exchanged between us when he dragged me back to this cursed room last night. Okay okay, I'll admit, I did most of the talking.
There was a lot of creative name calling on my part combined with a lot of biting and squirming. He retaliated with nothing but silence. A silence so still and cold that it seemed to fill the small room with a presence of its own.
I leaned forward as far as my bound hands would allow. I would match him, toe to toe if I had to. I would not falter. I wouldn't whimper or simper or any of the other things that this man wanted me to do. I was strong and I had to show it.
His eyebrows lowered, casting his features into the slightest of shadows. There was hardly a breath of air between us, yet we were locked in a battle of wills. And I wasn't planning on submitting. His nose flared and his lips twitched. I haven't known this man long. Shoot, I didn't even know his name, but I was quickly picking up on how his emotions flickered over his face more than his words would ever reveal.
I let a Cheshire-sized grin take over my face. I was raised in an orphanage, he was going to have to do a lot more than stare me down to intimidate me. Most people grew up with a few siblings, but I had around forty brothers and sisters at all times. I was a trained veteran and I would not retreat.
I inched forward, issuing my challenge. My eyes studied the swirling depths of his and then slowly traced the curve of his straight nose. My eyes painted a canvas as they slowly crept from his nose and followed the outline of his lips to his jawline and high cheekbones. His hair was messy today, left untied as it stopped just above his shoulders. It was a tidy mess.
His tongue swiped over his lips, "What's your name?" His voice flowed like honey, his English accent adding to his image of sophistication. He was dressed similar to last night, but slightly less fancy. Even so, it was better than anybody ever dressed in my small New Jersey town.
"What's yours?" I was not going to give this man my name. There was a very high chance of him being a serial killer. I mean, I'm tied to a chair in the middle of nowhere with a man who forcefully dragged me here. I don't think I was over exaggerating.
Both of his eyebrows twitched and he leaned back. Good, I could breath now. "You don't know who I am?"
I snorted and looked away from the absurd man. Know who he is? "Why would I know who you are? We've never met before." I wiggled my fingers as they started to tingle with the effects of numbness. Great, now I was going to have numb fingers in addition to a numb ass.
He leveled me with his eyes again. I could feel them drilling into my head as I refused to look up. I was currently examining my rope cuffs, trying to find a way to loosen them.
"Everybody knows who I am whether they meet me or not." I could hear the pride woven through his words.
"Whelp,"I briefly glanced up, "not me." I reached down and tried using my teeth to find a weak link.
YOU ARE READING
A Captive of TimeHumor
Blue Doe is an independent, modern day women. She doesn't take no for an answer and gives the world the middle finger whenever it gets in her way. So, what happens when this self-made woman is thrown through time to a period where men hold all the c...