Devour You

48

Victoria

Standing before the mirror in the tiled bathroom, I wipe the tear that succeeded in escaping down my cheek. Taking in a consoling breath, I rest either palm on the sink, and flutter my glossy brown eyes shut.

I'm not crying because I'm a current mess, or the fact that I am trapped inside this... elegant dump. But only because of the possible scenarios that have been flashing in my mind of what Rio could be doing right now.

Has he started searching, yet?

Has he... lost it?

I sniffle, running a tiresome hand through my disheveled brown waves, and huff out a shaky breath. When suddenly, there's a knock on the bathroom door. Frustration instantly consumes me.

"Would you give me one minute?!" I shout irritatingly, at the chubby bald guy behind the door that guided me here after my request.
I just needed to vent, to cope. To think of how to settle throughout all of this.

I swallow the lump in my throat, before preparing to walk out the bathroom, that to my surprise, I was allowed to be excused for. I lick my bare and merely chapped lips, before pulling open the bathroom door to exit.

When I step out, and turning around the corner of the dimly lit corridor, I almost crash into a hard figure. My brown irises flick up to lock onto Isaiah's - before mine roll themselves.

I notice when his inscrutable irises meet mine, he forms a small grin.
"You're not the chubby bald guy." I remark, crossing my arms firmly against my chest as my eyes glare at his own.
But I can't help but note the grin that quickly fades, whilst he observes either of my irises. For a second, and before he can even speak, I catch the sight of his mischievous structures shift to an expression too unfamiliar, upon his face.

"Have you been crying?" He questions me lowly, too close to my tense figure. I release a sigh.

"Why does that matter to you?" I spit, glancing between either of his mysterious brown eyes.

It almost looks like his jaw hesitates to harden, when his face seems to almost soften. But the rock hard wall that must block his human emotions, stands too tall for him to show a sliver of sympathy. He releases a low breath, inches from me, before he leans an elbow on the wall nearest us.

The muscles in his arm seem to bulge under his clinging black v-neck, from the side of my eye. I keep my solemn gaze ahead, on his own.

"It doesn't." He carelessly responds, leaning against the wall. As I stand before his tall frame, I watch his eyes flick down to my hand, as my arms are still folded before my chest.

"What's that?" He questions, his tone in a lifted manner as if we have been in conversation longer than we have. And as if we were friends.

I follow his gaze, down to the diamond on my finger.

"My engagement ring." I breathe, latching onto his unreadable gaze again.
I gather sight of his lips twitching, before a brow cocks.

"Wow..." He soon plasters a grin. "Congratulations, Princess." He adds lowly.

I suck in a breath, when I shift in place, soon unfolding my arms and letting them drop to my sides. I decide to lean my right shoulder against the wall - Isaiah doesn't remove his gaze from my unappreciative own.

"So how many places do you own?" I ask, glancing around me at the unfamiliar house. Or building. Or mansion - whatever this place is. Until I meet his eyes again.
Isaiah's purses his lips. "Enough." He answers, cockily. I want to roll my eyes, or gag, in disgust. But I don't.

The corridor soon falls silent.

"So," Isaiah starts again, his dark brown irises glinting mischievously, "did you think it was him?" He asks, curiously.
In return, I perch an imperceptive brow, for clarification.
Isaiah lazily rolls his inscrutable brown eyes, pointing over his broad shoulder. "Dead Neo guy back there. Did you think it was your tattooed lover boy?"

I search his familiar eyes, my gaze scanning beneath his black and usually ruffled hair, and I clear my throat.

"Part of me did." I say, rather truthfully, watching him carefully. "Actually I started to wonder, after I saw it wasn't him, if he'll ever come. I wondered if he'll ever come to my rescue." I plaster a weak smile, staring at him.

Isaiah's mystifying irises twinkle with an emotion vaguely recognizable; a glint of mere, very slight empathy sparks like a flame, behind his dark eyes. That is, before I continue.

"I wondered if he'll come here, to end you." I add sternly, afterward, watching that momentary empathic flame be put out quick. I witness his unreadable gaze turn cold. His sharp jawline hardens.

"Glad you feel you can be so open with me." Isaiah states, lowly. And when he straightens to stand upright, and takes one subtle step toward me - my shoulders tense immensely.

His intimidatingly tall figure hovers, as he glares down at me. I suddenly feel trapped by his toxic gaze.

"And starting in another hour, that'll mark a full day you've been in my possession." He says huskily against me. "So good luck, to you and your hope, on him coming to save you."

Isaiah's dark gaze flickers across either iris of mine - his own now swarmed with an infallibly cold darkness. I peer up at him, still, whilst fear doesn't strike a single vein in my body.

"I'm not afraid of you." I clarify firmly, my tone calm and certain.

"I don't want you to be." Isaiah whispers. I watch his unreadable irises avert down to my pink lips, very quickly. My pulse quickens with a sudden anger.

But before I can shove him away, or punch him, or do anything in my own might to make him look elsewhere, Isaiah turns around.

I don't watch him walk off, no, for my processing gaze glances elsewhere - anywhere around my tense frame to see if anyone saw what just took place.

And gathering a clear and desolate corridor, I face ahead again. When I do, he's gone.

I blink repeatedly, when I glance down to the dark floor, blinking away the threatening tears. And my back hits the wall, seconds before I slide down it's cold surface.

Where is Rio?

---

Yes, next will be Rio's.

ThAnK yOu aLl FoR rEaDiNg!

*Please, please give me your thoughts on Isaiah! c:

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xx