~ Kriss Darcy ~
I looked into his eyes, the sheer beauty of the bright green irises rendering me temporarily breathless.
Jase.
He reached up, stroking my cheek carefully with his thumb, sparks trailing along after the contact. My eyes closed automatically, delighting in the contact.
"Kriss," he murmured, the sound of his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Kriss."
He didn't say anything else, and suddenly, I felt his breath brushing against my cheek, then the pressure as his forehead leaned against mine. I knew that if I opened my eyes, I would see him, and only him - The smooth cheekbones, the carefully structured jawline, the sprinkling of freckles across his nose, his lips, his eyes...
We were sharing the same breath now.
Gently, his hand retreated from my cheek, wandering up over my face, tracing my eyes, my eyebrows, my hidden cheekbones, my nose, my forehead, roaming down the other side of my face before gliding across my lips...
"Jase," I whispered. "Jase."
I could sense him leaning closer, and my lips parted with anticipation...
I awakened.
Groggily, I sat up, brushing hair out of my face, my lips still tingling from the aftereffects of the dream. My head spun a little - I must have sat up too quickly.
I glanced at my bedside table, checking for the alarm clock I kept next to my bed, then remembered - my alarm is in the city, next to the small bed in my tiny bedroom in the shoebox apartment I lived in with Megan. I always had my phone here, but I threw that over the Brooklyn Bridge months ago.
The only contents on my nightstand was a vase, containing two roses - one white, one red - and a copy of Wuthering Heights that was always there...
Memories of last night rushed through my head in that instant. The calm, soothing, passionate tones of Ash's voice as he read to me from this very book. Relaxing my head against his shoulder as the story began lulling me into sleep. The feather-light touch of his lips on my forehead as I finally succumbed to exhaustion.
If all else perished, and he remained...
But I don't remember him leaving.
On instinct, I glanced at the spot next to me on the bed. The blankets were rumpled, the pillow slightly askew, but that could have been a result of my own restless slumber. He didn't stay. But why did that surprise me? I knew he wouldn't stay. He never stays for long. But why? Does he have a full schedule every night? Does he spend the early morning hours hunting ghosts?
A low chuckle from across the room grabbed my attention. My eyes zoomed in on the owner.
Ash was lounging on one of my reading chairs, which was now angled towards me. I was instantly jolted into full awareness, all post-sleep grogginess retreating away.
He's still here!
I took in his appearance, trying to gauge how long he's been here. As far as I know, he could have left and come back before I woke up. But it's morning. He's never here in the morning.
His inky black hair was tossed all over the place, as opposed to the way it normally lay - systemically brushed so only a few select strands fell into his eyes. But right now, it looked like half of the thick, wavy strands were racing for his silver pupils - he kept brushing them away impatiently. He was wearing the same black outfit he'd been sporting the night before...
I eyed the spot beside me again, then glanced back at him.
Did he sleep here?
"Good morning, Kristina," he said, his tone conversational, amused, but there was an underlying tone to it I couldn't quite identify, it was so well hidden. "Did you have a nice sleep?"
I awkwardly gawked at him, my thoughts slow. Maybe my grogginess wasn't quite as gone as I thought.
"I..." I blinked rapidly. "You're still here."
He made a show of looking around the room. "I am? Oh, dear, the time must have slipped away from me," his gaze rested on me once more - he was definitely trying to hide an emotion from me.
Sarcasm is not a trait that fits him well, I silently remarked.
"You didn't leave," way to state the obvious, Kriss.
"I didn't leave," he agreed, standing up, brushing more hair out of his eyes. "I couldn't leave, my Angel," he slowly made his way over to me. I tensed - something about the way he walked seemed almost predatory. My doubts about him flared up, then vanished just as quickly when he reached my bedside, grabbed my hand, and pressed his thumb into my palm. "I was going to, but I decided against it," he lightly brushed a hand across my hair, smoothing down the rebellious post-sleep strands.
"You slept here."
"I didn't want to wake you," he said, sitting on the bed next to me. I turned, gazing into his eyes, as a series of emotions began to pass through them, too fast to identify. "You seemed so peaceful. I haven't seen you sleep all that often."
I frowned. "All that often? You mean you've watched me sleep before?"
"Only twice," his voice was defensive, his eyes flashing. "The first time was the second night I came to you as a voice."
I remember that night, only a week or so ago. He sang to me, lulling me to sleep. His lips had brushed across my forehead then, too, though since I was only half-conscious, I thought I was dreaming at the time.
"As I said, you're peaceful when you sleep," his eyes narrowed. "A little too peaceful last night, if you ask me. I must say, Angel, it hurts to be falling asleep next to the girl you lo - help, only to have her murmur another man's name."
I froze. Jase. Aw, crap. My dream flashed through my head for a mere moment; Jase's emerald eyes, his breath fanning my cheek...
"He's my friend," I said, averting my eyes, all too aware of his accusing stare. "He's bound to pop up in my dreams now and again. Haven't I dreamt about you before?"
"Oh, you seem to be far more than friends, Kristina."
God, what did I say?
"I can't exactly control what I dream about," I remarked, staring at my bedsheets.
"I beg to differ," his voice darkened. I knew that if I looked at him, his eyes would have darkened, too. "Dreams store memories, and help to process complicated thoughts and emotions."
Okay, professor. "That doesn't mean anything," I insisted. "I can't control my dreams, so I don't see why you're getting all worked up over it."
That was not the right thing to say. Not at all.
In one swift movement, he grabbed my chin, forcing my head to turn, making me look at him. I had been right about his eyes - they had darkened, burning with molten silver, the heat and anger in them making a chill creep up my spine, and I shivered.
"No," he said, his tone icily calm. "I suppose you don't know why this upsets me. You can't see into my thoughts. You don't know what it is I'm feeling," he let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "You don't know how frustrating it is, Kristina, doing this dance over and over again."
I froze. "What dance?" what in the bloody hells is he talking about?
"You're so clueless," he said, gripping my chin tighter. Ow. "We get close, and I think I might actually be getting through to you. You look at me like I'm the only person you've ever seen. Then morning comes, and you run straight back to him," he snarled out the word. "He's threatening to take you from me, Kristina. He's conspiring against me to take my Angel away!" he stopped talking then, a shudder ripping through him. Part of me was screaming to run, get out of here, while the other part was yearning to put his mind at ease.
I didn't know which part to listen to. But I knew which choice to make. With his one hand clutching my chin, the other wrapped around my wrist, leaving wasn't exactly an option at the moment.
"Ash," I whispered, fighting to keep my tone level, calm, to not show any of the panic that was bursting to break free from me. "Nobody's taking me anywhere."
"He's getting closer to you, with every second you're away from me!" he continued on like I never even spoke. Talk about frustrating. "He's pulling you away, drawing you into his arms! I'll be trapped, in my own personal hell, like that infernal Ghost!"
"Listen to me," I put more force behind my words this time, grabbing his forearm with my free hand. Finally, finally, he stopped his rambling and looked at me, the angry fire in his eyes scorching into my soul. "You are not like the Ghost, Ash. You are not a sociopath who murders people when you don't get what you want! I'm not being taken anywhere."
Another emotion crossed over his face, but the anger dimmed slightly. "Look at you," he said softly. "You're drifting away from me, and you don't even know it."
Is he even listening to me?
"It was just a dream, Ash," I murmured. "Only a dream. You're here now. You're real..." though my dream sure did seem real. I can still imagine Jase's hand gliding over my face, his mouth just slightly brushing across my lips, his shamrock gaze intense with a strange light...
"You're doing it again!" Ash exclaimed, releasing my jaw as if he'd just been burned, though his hand tightened around my wrist, the wave of fire emanating from the contact growing stronger with every passing second. "You're with him, even when you're with me! You don't even realize it!"
Anger and annoyance grew within me. I'm so sick of having this conversation over and over again! "Why does it matter so much to you?" I snapped. "So what if I like Jase? People like one another every day! People fall in love with one another every day! Stop acting like it's Jase who's drawing me away from you! Have you stopped to consider that maybe you're pushing me away yourself?"
He froze, his eyes darkening further, resembling the clouds before a brutal storm hits. I tensed, immediately regretting my words, as fear began tingling up my spine for the second time in the span of five minutes. Though this wasn't an uncommon feeling where Ash was involved, he usually responded by apologizing immediately, reassuring me that he would never hurt me. And every time, my fear was suddenly forgotten, and he was the center of my thoughts yet again.
Unfortunately, this time, he didn't appear to recognize my fear - and if he did, he didn't care. He leaned towards me, his eyes burning, hot and cold at the same time, a hurricane of emotions, anger - and pain - the most prominent of them. On instinct, I tried scooting away from him, stopping only when my back hit the headboard. His face moved closer to mine.
Then, his lips only inches away from mine, he stopped moving. I could feel his breath stirring the hair stuck to my cheek. If I leaned forwards, just a bit... he'd be close enough to kiss.
Fortunately, that didn't seem to be the first thing on his mind right now. His eyes bore into mine, the stormy depths of them all I could see.
"Do not," he said, his voice dangerously low, sending another shiver crawling its way down my spine. "test my patience, Kristina. I'm no idiot; you can lie and say that boy is your friend all you like. He doesn't believe you. You don't believe you. And, most importantly, I don't believe you."
He reached up with one hand, carefully drawing his finger down my cheek, sending another wave of heat trailing after his limb. I opened my mouth to speak; in a flash, his finger pressed down on my lips, shushing me. "Think before you say anything, my Angel," he said softly. "Be very careful about what you say next."
My next action was probably the stupidest thing I could have done in this situation. At that moment, my fear vanished, to be replaced by anger, indignation. How dare he. How dare he try to threaten me? How dare he accuse me of lying - okay, I probably was lying, a little bit, but still. Since when was discussing my love life part of our agreement?
I pushed him away from me, leaping off of my bed, putting distance between us so I could gather my thoughts. My thoughts were blazing, anger pulsing from every nerve ending, as I glared pointy glass shards at him.
"I'm done with this conversation, Ash," I kept my voice steady, seemingly calm, though my body said otherwise. "If it ever comes up again, you can consider our relationship terminated," I gave him a long look, letting that statement sink in, before I finished. "All aspects of it. Permanently."
I expected him to throw a fit. Yell. Maybe throw some things - either at me or the wall. Maybe a barrage of curses, though that didn't seem to fit into his style.
But he did something I was not expecting.
He chuckled.
It was amused, dangerous, deadly. The kind of chuckle you do before you threaten someone.
"As it is, my Angel, you're not the one in charge right now," he stood up, though, to my relief, didn't make a move towards me. "I'll give you a chance, though, to do the right thing."
I took a step back. He still didn't move.
"I tried being nice about this, Kristina. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, my patience is running thin. So I'll give you one chance to do this on your terms."
I didn't like the look in his eyes. It was almost triumphant.
"I want you to cut off all ties with Jase," he spat out the word, as though he was saying slug. "I want you to terminate your relationship with him. Be as gentle or as brutal as you want, Angel, but remember this;"
Now, he moved, standing before me in mere moments, his eyes still roiling with silver storms. He grabbing my wrist, pulling me closer to him, and leaned down to whisper in my ear.
"If you don't do as I ask, the consequences will be on your shoulders."
And they say romance has died.
Tell me, how did you find this chapter? Was it clear on what happened?
If not, here's a brief explanation... Ash is pissed off that Kriss has feelings for Jase... and he's jealous, too, so there's that... so he's given her an ultimatum; cut off ties with Jase, or face the consequences.
So, what exactly are those consequences? Any theories?
Do you think Kriss will end things with Jase? Or will she ignore Ash's warning?
We all know what the logical option is... but let's face it, Kriss isn't exactly known for logic. I mean, she hasn't even questioned the fact that there's a man living beneath her house who is now idly threatening her!
Ah, well, as long as he's hot...
Don't forget to vote and comment!
Love you all!
~ Evie