TimeBound (Time Tells #1) (COMPLETED)

Chapter Thirty One

He was okay.

Physically at least. I corrected. Emotionally.. I think he was a wreck. I stepped towards him, carefully, before I start to speed up because I want to touch him, drag his eyes to mine, make him speak to me and burrow in his strength and know he's okay. I don't worry about whether he would accept my touch without our usual code as I wrap two arms around his neck and drag myself up to press my face into his neck.

I say nothing for a few seconds, uncaring that his arms were digging into my ribcage since he hadn't lowered them from where he'd crossed them. I let out a slow breath and his familiar smell overtook my senses and goosebumps lifted across my skin. My face finally had time to heat from the running, the worrying and my still pounding heart, now that I was in one place.

I drop back down and catch his jaw in my hands. I turn his face to me and he lets me. His eyes are the darkest I've ever seen them, almost night blue. He's in a bad place.. I've never seen him like this. I suck in a breath.

"What happened?" I ask, letting my hands drop to press against chest with my wrist resting against his folded arms. His head tilts a little as he stares at me for a long time. Suddenly he drops his arms and my hands drop as well because they'd lost their support. He's towering over me in a second, having straightened from his earlier pose. His dark eyes seem to flick across my eyes, my cheeks, my throat, the buttons on my white blouse and finally my long flowing skirt.

I lift my hands to face again, tilting his head back so that his eyes could meet mine.

"Baby," I say, "What happened?"

His eyes catch on mine and stay as he seems to contemplate something. My other hand goes to his arm and I shake him a bit.

"Kri," I say sharply, "What's going on?"

Something in my voice seems to awaken him a bit and as his eyes drop to where he lifts his hand to take the bottom edge of my blouse in between his fingers. He rubs the material, his thumb softly tracing back and forth on it and I envy my dress for a second. But I can shake myself out of my thoughts he speaks, doing it for me.

"You're dressed up." He murmurs. His voice is low, sending a tremor through me that isn't unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all.

His eyes slam back up to mine and I almost rock back at the intensity in them. Angry. He's so bloody pissed.

"For whom?" He asks, glaring darkly.

My hand moves on its own accord and slaps his face. Though his face doesn't even move a fraction of an inch, surprise flicks across his features and his eyes clear a bit. His hand drops from my dress and he blinks, leaning back a little.

"I guess it's none of my business," he finally says, watching me carefully.

I roll my eyes, "Of course it's your damn business." I snap, "I slapped you to shake the silly out of you because who the hell else would I dress for? Willy Wonka?"

My sass seems to amuse him, because a wry smile lifts his lips, "You're funny," He says and I realize that there's a slight slur to his voice.

My brows raise. "Are you drunk?" I ask incredulously.

His head tilts again and he looks down at my dress once more. "I like you in skirts." He says finally.

He was definitely lost in his head. I lift his face up and repeat my question. His eyes clear and he answers. "Yade don't get drunk." He finally answers.

"Uh huh." I say. I grab his hand and yank so that he gets the idea that we're leaving. Now.

He seems to get it as I turn and head towards the door because he follows me allowing me to lead him out. There's a curious look in his eyes that tugs on my heart because it's so open and childish in nature. I feel around for the handle of the door, undo the lock and pull it open.