Isaac hauled the girl up to the third story of his chateau, talking to her gently to let her know he's there. With every step, she seems to gain more consciousness: her facial expression changing or her head beginning to move as though she's dreaming.
He places her on the bed of a guest bedroom, afraid she might be uncomfortable if laid in his. The thought of her waking up, disoriented and scared, in a man's bed makes his teeth grind together—even if that man is him. She doesn't know him yet, and he'll have to respect that in order to make her comfortable here.
Her head begins rocking side to side as her legs peddle aimlessly. Her expression scrunches into a pained grimace, as though she's experiencing a nightmare. Isaac holds her delicate hand, small compared to his, offering it a gentle squeeze to prove his presence; to prove to her that he had never once left her.
"Wake up," he says to her, the sight of her increasingly restless actions spiking his anxiety. "Open your eyes and the bad things will go away."
His heart begins to race as he feels her hand return his squeeze. Any moment now. Any moment now and she'll wake up and he'll finally get to see the color of her eyes and the demeanor held within them. She could be upfront and feisty, or she could be soft spoken and sweet, or maybe somewhere in between and she would end up being sly in her own way. He can only make up scenarios in his head in which he guesses what her personality will be like, what her eyes will look like.
He had found her as the sun was just beginning to rise, and now it's at the height of the morning. For all of those hours—nearly four now—he had wondered who she is. Now it's finally time for him to find out.
He stares at her closed eyelids, whispering comforting words in hopes of coaxing her into consciousness.
Only when her body goes still, as though the nightmare is over, do her eyelashes flutter awake.
Blue. Ocean blue with a hint of grey. That's the color of her eyes.
They scan the room in front of her, flicking from object to object, until they land on Isaac and she realizes she's grasping his hand. Those ocean blue eyes widen and she jerks away from him, severing any contact whilst her back slams against the headboard.
"No, no, no, it's okay," Isaac reassures, his words rushed. He holds up both of his hands near his shoulders, showing that he means her no harm. "I don't want to hurt you. You're safe, alright? Do you know what happened to you? I found you lying unconscious in the forest."
He leaves out the small fact that she was naked when he found her. He doesn't want her to feel self conscious that he had seen her like that. It wasn't her fault or his, after all. It was just the situation as it presented itself.
"You were taken to the infirmary," he continues, "You're in perfect health. Nothing is wrong, but I need you to tell me as much as you can so we can find out how this happened."
He notices her studying him, all the way from his inky black hair to where the bed cuts off her view at his thighs. He feels his muscles tightening everywhere her gaze travels and, as a subconscious reaction, he gradually stands up taller from an already impressive height, making his shoulders appear wider and his chest broader.
He wonders if his body passes her test. If his appearance makes her feel safe in his presence or if it makes her feel the opposite. Instantly, he knows he'll do anything to make the former true.
| | |
The girl evaluates the person standing in front of her, speaking to her in a calm, gentle tone of voice. As if she were a child.
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Amidst the DaffodilsWerewolf
His family is notorious, known around the world. Her identity is a mystery, her genetics undecided. He is the voice of an entire species. She cannot speak at all. He remembers every wrong that's been done against his kind--he pursues revenge. S...