❝ In a world tainted by decadent rulers, the Princess must step back to her kingdom for a revamp of the rules, claiming her rightful place on the throne ❞
Rules are made to be broken was the only rule Lysandra ever abided by. When that very principl...
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The fire begun to hiss and grow as the security pushed the people out, making a huge panicked crowd gather at the entrance, trying to rush out to save their lives as there was no reassurance that the fire wouldn't spread to the whole mall.
There were sirens of alert blasting through the mall as the workers begun dialling the police and the fire brigade teams. Laurent had to literally push Lysandra out of the mall despite her headstrong protests.
She simply stared up at him with hazy wild eyes which made him furrow his eyebrows and straighten his lips into a firm line. Sadness clouded her features and there was a certain unexplainable terror overtaking her face. Her eyes held the innocence and gentleness of a Bambi but, her persona reflected that she had seen far more horrors of life than she let on. He stepped forward, getting close to her in the idea of comforting her and she shot her head up, looking at him in a peculiar way that managed to scare the hell out of him.
"Don't touch me!" she repeated, lodging her hands into her hair, tousling it.
"It's okay, Lysandra."
"No!" she screamed and then softened her tone. "No, nothing is okay."
Laurent ignored her protests as he bundled her up in his arms so that her arms were locked within his embrace; it was as if hugging a rag doll. She flogged in his hold but, he held on tighter. She felt so fragile, held in his arms like a little dove who has been caged for far too long, forgetting how to spread her wings wide and fly at all.
"Shh," he cooed. "It's okay. You are okay."
She finally relaxed in his hold, grabbing his shirt within her fists and holding onto him tighter. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck whilst she attempted to calm her ragged breathing. He swayed them sideways, resting his chin atop her head and muttering comforting reassurances once in a while.
Minutes passed and people flickered in and out of Lysandra's vision as she rapidly blinked to clear her teary eyes. It was then that she finally paid attention to what was actually going on around her. The truth hit her like a whiplash, making her jump away from Laurent's embrace as if his touch burned her.
"Lysandra," he whispered, lifting her chin to stare at her. One moment of his green orbs clashing with her against hazel ones was enough for her to force herself to look at her feet where she felt safe from his penetrating gaze. It scared her, if she were to admit the raw truth brutally. It was as if he could see right through her walls, the fear that she kept hidden and the unexplainable want of love, the need of having someone to cherish her as she is - it seemed as though everything was painfully clear to the snooping features of the Adonis standing before her.
She was no fool to deny how handsome he was or how girls gathered around him, like flies around a candy. The emeralds that he had for eyes would definitely swoop a girl off her feet and the rest of his immaculate features were not something that Lysandra was a stranger to. She had clearly experienced his charms first hand and yet, she was not any other girl to fall upon his feet. She had never found herself worshipping a man for the chiseled looks and she would be damned if she ever brought herself to do that.
