Adam Rutherford POV:
Her eyes flutter while it closed, those huge brown eyes that were stung with tears moments from now. She slammed my chest, expressing her hate towards me. As her damp wet clothes hugged her like a second skin.
"I know," I mumbled while embracing her shaking figure. Her state isn't good at all, and it wrenches my heart to see her broken like that. It's my mistake to shout at her, I should have known better.
Her body stilled, breathing steadied. She fell asleep. My arms lightly brushed her to look at her face, under her closed eyes rest crimson stings. Wet strands of hair brushed her cheek, looking tired and sad. Nothing like what she was this morning.
She was happily texting her friend, and I know she met him. I guess it didn't turn well, even though I called James to assure him that our marriage is not real. She loved him, and I saw that I should help even if it will cause my heart to wrench.
I care about her more than I should.
My right arm slide under her legs, while my left one found her back. Lifting her from the ground, her head leaned on my shoulder. Her smell like berries waves through my nose, filling my entire. The same smell that clinged to my shirt, the shirt that is kept unwashed in my closet Because it has her smell.
Walking towards my room, I carefully laid her in my bed. Then it occurred to me that her clothes are still wet, and she probably might catch a cold. My gaze lingered at her body, t-shirt hugging her torso and chest. Heat rushed my body and I quickly looked away.
How I'm supposed to change her clothes? I sighed wiping my hand on my face. Stepping away from the bed, I reached my closet. My hands found a blue long sleeve shirt of mine. I guess I have to undress her.
Hands-on her t-shirt collar, I quickly yanked it up her arms. Glancing from the corner of my eyes, I can see her grey bra. Avoiding looking at her chest, I slide the shirt in her arms and swiftly buttons it. Heat rushed in me, I can't remember the last time there was a woman in my bed.
This is her second time to be in my bed.
I unbutton her jeans, trying to breathe. I slide it from her thighs, looking away. Releasing a breath, I brought the covers over her. The rain had stopped by now, but the room is still partly dark.
My sight settled on her, what are you going through, Elena? It's too much to bear, I know. She is just a twenty years old college kid, her only concerns should be passing a subject or not getting a good grade in another. Not this, this mess.
Phone ringing tone cut my thoughts, and I step out of the room.
"Hey Finn, how are you, buddy?" I asked.
"Great, listen about what you asked me to look for,..." he trailed, papers shuffling sound crept through. I steadied my breathing, wanting to hear what he found. "Mark Parker is a gambling man, his bookstore is out of business because of that."
I felt like a buckle of cold water had been dropped on me. Gambling? I knew that Elena's father has debts that I paid in exchange for her to be my wife, but I didn't know it was because of gambling. God, the man made his daughter pay for his own issues, manipulating her to save his ass.
What kind of a father is he?
"Are you there, Adam?" Finn asked. I snapped from my thoughts, "Yeah, anything else?"
"Not really, there is something though. I don't know if it concerns you, but according to his bank account details, his daughter's college fees will be cut due to her father's financial status."
Eyebrows shot in surprise, my gaze went to where she slept. This can't be possible, she can't take all of this. Getting kicked out of college will be the straw that broke the camel's back. I can't let this happen to Elena.
"Right, thanks buddy," I said before ending the call. My head falls in my hand in frustration as I slightly pull my hair. A rumbling sound came from the room, making me up to my feet.
"Yeah, I'm fine....." her voice came as she is having a phone call, "No it didn't turn well, Yes Laura, I will explain everything when I see you."
I stood at the door frame, glancing at her motion. Shuffling through the covers, she stood up noticing my presence. Her eyes found mine, sorrow filled hers with a hint of surprise. And then I noticed the way she looked at her changed attire.
She questionably looked at me while tugging the long-sleeve shirt.
"I didn't want you to catch a cold," as if answering her unspoken question. "Did you look?" she asked, her eyes widened in anticipation, cheeks flushed.
A small smile crept on my lips, I shrugged, "I don't know, maybe I did."
She wandered her gaze to the bed avoiding my intense stare, "You know that I won't die if I caught a cold. Actually nothing matters anymore," she shook her head hopelessly.
"I didn't look, Elena. Maybe I stole a glance or two, but I'm no pervert."
She put her hands on her flushed cheeks, meeting my glare, "Well, I'm not sure about you not being a pervert, but I think I already got a cold."
I took a step forward, bringing my hand to her forehead. Warm heat blazed my palm, she is indeed burning with fever. And that somehow makes me feel guilty for shouting at her to come here while it rained.
Elena flenches at my touch, reminding me of the fact that she hates me. Why wouldn't she? I treated her horribly this morning. Her life is nearly ruined because of me and my deal.
"Okay, you need to get some antipyretic," I said walking to my drug cabinet. Reaching for the pills I turned my back to see her sitting at the side of the bed, lost in thoughts. Her hands in her lap, rubbing anxiously.
"Here," I extended the pills along with a bottle of water. Her hair is fuzzy now, half dry. She shakily takes it, tyling her head while she swallowed. And the thought of kissing her lips and those flushed cheeks passes by.
What the hell is wrong with me? I steadied my breath and drags myself out of the room. Trying to busy myself with anything, I boil some water in an attempt to make some tea. My mind weaver to the photo that Stephan sent, making my blood boil in overwhelming.
Her love confession for James, made me stay the night without sleep. The photo made me lose my shit completely, and that's not because of the fact that my dear brother is looking for anything to doom me. It's how he grabbed her hand, that made me see red.
"Adam," her voice cut my thoughts, and my heart seems to skip a beat every time she calls my name. It always feels like the first time, I looked at her in anticipation.
"Do you think I'm a good person?" her voice seems lost. Her question caught me off guard, "You are more than good, Elena."
"Then why everyone fails me?" she asked, voice broke as if she is close to crying. I set the tea container on the bench, resting my palms on the granite surface. How I'm supposed to answer that?
"Because it meant to be," I found myself saying. Her eyebrows shot in surprise, along with a confused expression, "and how so?"
"Well, sometimes things happen for reasons. It's either to teach us a lesson or to show us people's true selves. Even our loved ones, we think we know them but then things happen to show us the truth."
"Yeah and then you realize that you were so pathetic," she laughed bracing her arms. She is broken way too broken to be mend, but knowing her father's truth will destroy her to the core.
"You are not pathetic, Elena," I said scooping tea leaves. Moments of silence pass between us while tea boiled. She stood beside me, gazing at the stove as its the most interesting thing. The motion of the shirt brushing her thighs, makes me gulp.
"We weren't kissing," she said. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, "I know."
And then that urge to touch her came back. I backed off the bench, knowing that I will regret my actions but I couldn't care more.
"Aren't you going to pour that?" she gestured at the tea, I pulled myself together and turned to the cupboard taking out mugs.
I carefully pour the hot liquor, steam fogging at the top. Letting it cool, she stood quietly watching the steam. Her puffy brown eyes, her dark hair that brushed her back, and my shirt that she is wearing make me want to get her in my arms and never let go.
And so I do step behind her back and slip my arms on her. My hands resting on her torso, I pull her back to my chest burying my head in her hair. Breathing in her smell, her body tensed at my touch.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled in her feverish neck. "Sorry for yelling at you."
Her body seems to give up to my touch as she tiles her head backward, resting it on my chest. My heart felt as if it will burst out, and the only thing I wished for at the moment is to stay capture like this forever.
A sob escaped her lips while she leaned into me. She is crying.
"I'm sorry," I repeat my apology, planting a kiss on her neck and tightening my grip on her body.
And maybe I'm not apologizing just for the yelling part, I'm saying sorry because of how things are getting awful for her. Elena's life is turning into a mess, and I feel myself responsible for half of it.
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