Stretching her body, and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, thoroughly, she woke up to see a brown textured high-ceiling. An expensive-looking chandelier hung from it, hooked merely by a chain.
Aubrey got up abruptly and took account of her surroundings. This surely isn't my room. She thought as panic set in. The walls were a darker shade of brown oak while on to her right was a panoramic window with blinds blocking all the obscure light coming from the outside.
"It isn't night yet, but how is that possible?" She muttered to herself, frowning. "Wasn't I at the party with Lucas and Amelia?"
She continued to have a stock of the room as her father had trained her to ever be aware of her surroundings, no matter what the situation, to be alert if things went awry.
To her left, there were two sofas with a coffee table in the center.
"Quaint little room as it may be, I have to find a way out."
Throwing the covers off, she realized that the feel of the clothes on her was not her own. Proven true on looking down, she saw that she was only wearing a shirt, flimsy one at that. Then, she noticed what she must have missed before. Her clothes were carefully folded and kept on the side table in a neat pile. Before she could rummage her brain for answers, she heard footsteps outside, and it was not long before the doorknob began to turn.
Her father's training kicked in, and hastily, Aubrey picked up the only object she could find to use as a weapon – a candleholder. As the door opened, she defensively held the makeshift weapon in front of her, taking a fighting stance.
"You!" Aubrey screeched in shock, "why is it that wherever there is trouble, there are you?"
The guy from the woods, the one with green eyes, her stalker, smiled goofily, "slow down, beautiful, you'll get all your answers, but let's get something inside that body of yours first. I am sure you're famished."
As if on cue, her stomach grumbled to the aroma of food that the guy was carrying, embarrassing her.
"Your stomach seems to agree, so shall we?" He said, placing the tray on the bed. Aubrey, cautiously, without lowering her guard or the candleholder, went near the bed but did not sit.
"How do I know it is not poisoned?" She gestured to the delicious looking bacon strips and fried eggs, her mouth-watering.
"Oh come on, if I had to kill you, one, I wouldn't have dressed you up in my favorite to bloody it up later," he grinned shamelessly, "two, I wouldn't have washed and folded your clothes and three, I would have done it in your sleep. Easier and a lot less noisy."
Exhaling ruefully, Aubrey agreed, sitting down on the bed, she placed the candleholder aside.
"You sure have a lot of ideas of how to conveniently get away with murdering someone," she said, picking up a strip and having a bite.
Whether it was her hunger or the fact that the bacon was perfectly cooked, precisely how she liked it, an involuntary moan escaped her mouth. She hadn't even realized her eyes had closed on their own accord to relish the scrumptiousness, not until she opened them to look at the guy smirking at her.
Abruptly, she decided it was time to shift his attention, "well, how did I," she cleared her throat, "end up here, mister stalker?"
"Isn't it too soon for nicknames in our relationship, Sunshine?" He so deftly dodged the question that Aubrey, blushing furiously, forgot about what she had asked, in the first place.
Remembering, she asked, "is answering a question straight-forwardly too arduous a task for you?"
"Where's the fun in that?" he replied, grinning again.
Now that he was sitting, so close to her on the bed, the grin hit differently.
Aubrey cleared her throat again, "well?"
"You do not give up. It's fair, I guess," he breathed, "okay, so do you remember anything from the party that you attended last night?"
Two things shocked her to silence before she chastised herself to speak up to get the answers she wanted.
"Last night?" she was alarmed, "and how do you know about the party?"
He straightened himself, taking a bacon strip for himself.
"Yes, last night, and I happened to be there."
Aubrey would have trusted him had he not been smiling sheepishly or given their previous encounters of when he knew all the time of her whereabouts.
She crossed her arms over her chest, "nothing just 'happens to be' with you, mister," she huffed.
The guy raised his hands in surrender, "alright, you caught me. I was looking out for you because I knew you would get yourself in trouble, sooner or later. Good thing I was there!" He seemed proud of the fact that he had been shadowing her, but Aubrey was awfully creeping out.
"I think I should, um, leave now," she said standing up. "Thank you for your help."
As soon as she bent over to pick up her belongings from the side-table, she felt his presence behind her, causing the hair on her body to stand on ends.
She turned around to find him standing in her personal space, leading her to freak out. She threw everything, including her phone, on the floor.
"Oh, fuck," he cursed. Aubrey was frozen in place, not knowing how to react in a situation like this. The guy, though, got down to pick the stuff up as if he was the most chivalrous gentleman in the world. Then, he put it all on the chair and made Aubrey sit down on the bed like a father would a wayward son.
"No jokes now, only the truth. I promise," he assured even though it didn't comfort Aubrey much, she nodded, still.
"Do you remember the guy you were dancing with at the party?"
To that, Aubrey thought hard to last night before nodding, "the blond?"
"The very one. He had you cornered in a room and was about to take your advantage when--"
Aubrey interrupted, "the same old story about a knight in shining armor, saving the damsel in distress?"
The guy laughed. "Ha, you have it backward, Sunshine."
For some reason, hearing him call her that in the deep voice of his made her feel all warm inside. She ignored it best as she could, "what do you mean?"
"If only you would let me complete," he sighed dolefully before continuing. "So, where was I? Oh yes, he was about to take advantage of your drunken state when you kicked him where the sun doesn't shine." He chuckled as though remembering. "It was hilarious. And if that wasn't enough, you punched him across the face while he was still howling in pain."
Aubrey tried to hold back her smile. "That still doesn't explain how I got here and in your favorite shirt, no less."
"Ah! That would be because of what happened next," he paused dramatically for effect.
"Do tell," Aubrey urged, getting curious.
"You see, after that surprising display of strength, you puked all over yourself and the poor guy, and then passed out on top of him."
They were both silent briefly, and then Aubrey began laughing and snorting so hard, she wondered if her heart would stop. The guy joined in, and soon both were rolling with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.
"I- I am sure the guy would never think of going near another girl ever again," Aubrey cried heartily.
"You should have seen his face. He is bound to be traumatized for his entire life," the guy wiped tears from his cheeks.
"Oh Lord, I don't remember laughing this hard in so long," he held her hands in his and squeezed, "thank you."
Momentarily, Aubrey found herself losing in those deep green eyes, but then she was reminded of the fact that not only was he a stalker, but she didn't know his name let alone anything else about him.
She pulled her hands away, standing up, she put some distance between them.
"Well then, it seems I should thank you for taking care of me, however, I must leave. My friends would be worried about me."
She started to walk towards the door.
"Is that really the reason to go, Aubrey?" He was looking away from her, but she could sense that he was hurt all the same.
She turned around, furiously, and at the same time, so did he.
"You do not get to be hurt. If you are so aware of the real reason, then why don't you tell me? Who are you, and what is it that you want from me?"
She was shouting now but could swear she could see it as having an impact on him as well. But no sooner had that emotion come over his face than it had vanished as though she had imagined the pain. Now, he was his cocky, arrogant self yet again.
"Feisty, are we?"
He came and stood right in front of Aubrey, too close that she could feel his breath on her face and could even smell mint on him. Then, he whispered rather huskily, making a shiver tip-toe down her spine.
"My name is Declan."