He put me gently down on the soft mohagany bed in his room. And I just sat there, unresponsive, unable to take in anything or anyone around me. He was crouching in front of me. I could see his mouth move, but I heard no sound. He vanished from my diminished view. The matress dipped down beside me, arms grabbed on to me and pulled me back down into the matress, and I just let them. I was lying on my side, my head on his arm, my back to his front. I was held captive by his other hand that was nestled around my waist, so high up that the bottom of my breasts rested against it, only the thin fabric of the t-shirt separating us. I did not care at all, I knew somewhere deep inside that I should care, should rage, but that inner voice was buried so deep down underneath it all, drowning. We lay there for hours, just existing in our own missery, staring into nothingness. My eyes started to feel heavy, I let them glide shut, not bothering to fight to keep them open.
"I hate you" The sound barely made its way past my dry lips. I felt him tense behind me, his breath caught at the harsh statement.
"I know" There was something new blended in with the silky tones of his voice, regret.
Darkness embraced me, luring me in untill I was softly snoring beside him, as grotesque nightmares played around with my mind.
My hurting bladder stabbed at me, dragged me out of sleep, releasing me from the nightsmares hellish grasp. The t-shirt I was wearing was soked in sweat, my body burning from tossing around all night. I crawled out of bed, making my way to the blinding white bathroom to relieve myself. The monster was nowhere in sight, he must have gotten up earlier, leaving me to my night terrors.
I washed my hands, and stared at the pale broken girl in the sparkling mirror. Her eyes where puffy, sore from crying, the once playful blue sparkle in her eyes had turned dull. Her chestnut hair was tussled, and she reached her hand up, trying desperatly to fix it. But it was of no use. I dropped my hand down against my side again, combing through the bushy mess with my fingers would not fix it, only a shower would. A shower would also wash away the stench of sweat that clung to me like a second skin, maybe even wash away the smell of him.
I turned on my heel, away from the pitiful stranger in the mirror, and soon found myself searching for something to wear in the huge obsidian wall to wall closet located in the bedroom. I did not want to go scavenging for something to wear fresh out of the shower, hidden only by a mere towel, like last time. The slight creak of a door behind me announsed his arrival. I stopped my hunt, frozen in place, yesterdays events still fresh in my mind.
"Your clothes are in here" He said, his voice neutral. "I cleaned out the top two drawers and added your clothes." I turned around and looked at the dark mahogony dresser, matching the bed, which he had indicated with his hand. He leaned back against the cream colored wall beside it, waiting for me to move. Giving me space. I bit my lip and tok a tentative step in his direction. Bracing myself for an unwelcome ambush with every small step I took. My eyes plastered to his still form scouting for any sign of movement, ready to bolt at the drop of a pin. But he stood still, deathly still, almost as if he was trying to observe an easily startled doe, not wanting to scare it away.
My eyes refocused to the dresser, and I reached out touching the smooth wooden handle, all too aware of his close proximity. I could feel his gaze against my skin as his eyes roamed over my distressed form. I shut my eyes for a second, consentrating on my shallow breathing, shutting him out. Trying my damnest not to panic. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe o...
"I will be downstairs in the livingroom, join me when you finnish washing up." His velvet tones broke through the silence. He was standing closer to me, his voice a whisper away from my ear. A chill went through every bone in my body, the hairs on my arms standing up. I had not even heard him move, heard him come closer. Unshed tears threatened beneath my eyelids, I refused to let them fall, but I could not stop the pained whimper from leaving my lips as I let go of the breath that I had been holding.
YOU ARE READING
When Death takes noticeRomance
The book is finished, to be edited... ¤ The muscles in his arms flexed a bit as he pushed himself away from the wall, striding towards me with confidence. I took an invoulantary step back. He was somehow more intimidating now. A knowing smirk crosse...