"Even though you seem lost in drinking, being negative, and playing the bad boy,
I can see that deep down, you are sad. Your eyes look like they hold sadness. I like there is a lot going on inside you," I utter, my eyes glued to his by a spark that I am trying so hard to break from.
A minute passes, his eyes threatening to burn me, and mine pleading otherwise, it's now that I know I have to act before I find myself dancing in this fire. I to say a lot about the expression in his icy eyes because I feel like they are quite a lot, but the fire in them simply won't let me. Him becoming so lost mine is not helping at all. He undoubtedly feels my twitching hands in his, or wetness because I am sweating due to this heat.
I release his grip while breaking our eye contact. I'm proud of myself for keeping gaze on him for so long, though. It is quite difficult. I mentally tap myself on shoulder for that.
"Am I right or wrong?" To break the tedium, I speak once more after clearing my , hoping that he can avert his gaze from me.
He is doing everything in his power to disrupt my composure with his looks my best efforts to remain calm. That is what he desired, right? To be told truth. There - I gave it to him directly and with the utmost sincerity and . Why the heck is he now gawking at me like he's questioning my opinion?
He blinks repeatedly for the first time in what felt like a century, taking his charring but cold gaze away from me and finally letting me breathe.
I was actually holding my breath without even being aware of it, or perhaps I just say that he had taken my breath away. My!
I was anxiously dreading a reaction or any responses. I was expecting him to challenge or concur with my perceptions about him. But no. I don't freaking any of that. In actuality, he doesn't say a fucking thing to me. He simply up, turns his gloriously gorgeous back to me, and takes a few long strides the mansion's favorite spot - the liquor parlor.
How fucking rude of him!
What kind of demon is he being haunted by? Or did I say something offensive?
As far as I am concerned, I didn't say anything hurtful—unless, of course, the really does hurt, as they say. Whatever it is, I honored his request, right?
I watch as he gets a bottle and a glass out of the shelf and pours the liquid in. This beer!
If his drinking angered me before, it now suffocates me. It's choking the hell out me, and I cannot bear it. He cannot simply abandon Ellie Marie Riccarford for useless alcohol. I gave him my opinion after he asked for it, just for him to me here like a useless, invisible piece of shit? No fucking way!
He is reaching for the liquid in the glass, but I beat him to it. I'm not sure if I ran the living room to get here, but I appreciate whatever speed I used. I grab the blasted glass and wrench it away from him, accidentally some of its contents, and, my God! It has such a foul odor!
"I thought you said you don't drink? You detest that shit!"
I shoot my glare at him. "I would be an idiot to take this thing to my sweet !"
He devilishly shoots at me in anger, "Then explain what you are doing," He fires, boiling in him.
"Stopping you from drinking, you jerk!" I retort, glaring furiously at his face.
Sometimes I find his height adorably irritating. I'd have to be on my tiptoes to get his nose. Annoying!
"I warned you to be cautious with your words or..."
"Or else what?" I snap. He was totally stunned when I cynically cut him ."Spank me? You get to do that only to a bitch that will let you touch her, and one before you, Mr Almeda, most definitely won't let you."
He advances with his eyes burning with danger. He is enraged, and the beast by his behavior right now makes me tremble. I am shuddering.
I didn't realize I was moving backward until my back touched the wall. End of the road for me! More shivers! More cold chills as he inches closer.
Shit!
"First of all, you are my guest. You don't get to tell me what to do in my own . Second, my drinking is none of your fucking business."
In a second, I am confined between him and the strong wall as he snarls and his hands on either side of my head.
I can feel myself shivering right now. He can sense that too, I'm sure. But I won't down. If he is a punitive, obnoxious jerk, then he can consider myself a b*tch who will never again accept orders from anyone!
"Well, I make that my business as long as I am here," I mumble, staring back at .
The corners of his mouth curve up into a slight smirk, so slight, but it cannot go . "Why don't you help me instead, huh? Is that what you want?" I feel thumb caressing the delicate spot below my right ear. "You see, drinking is only way I know how to get rid of this rage I feel for a strange someone. What perceive as grief is, in my opinion, nothing more than hatred and fury. Why 't you help me forget instead because you don't want me to drink my rage ? I promise to make it incredibly heaven." He lurches closer to my face and hoarsely while casting me his seductive, cold glare.
I do not flinch. Like a bold bitch, I maintain my composure before the daring , but he keeps leaning in and in, threatening my cool. With every inch he closer, the fire between us grows so wildly intense. With each breath he gives , my bones become more fragile. My breathing stops. When his candy-sugar lips brush mine, the entire ocean of a deadly fire that I'm floating in erupts flames. I'm in heat!
These lips are so soft and tender, just as I had envisioned them. They must taste the heaven he is promising; a flavor you wouldn't want to miss. If only, if ... I wouldn't mind kissing them all day long.