Part One: Below Feet

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"I WILL TELL THE WHOLE STORY, BUT ONLY WHEN YOU YOU'RE FAR AWAY FROM DOMINIC BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T LIKE TO SEE HIM WHEN HE'S ANGRY."

- LUCA

THE GENTLE RAYS of sunlight touched my eyelids, waking me from the comforting sleep I hadn't had for the past few days. Slowly fluttering my eyes to adjust to the sun's brightness before sitting up from the bed—the secluded room seems to be adjacent and adheres to a familiar atmosphere meant for one person to whom the owner wants to lend his trust.

Dominic was already walking towards me, seeming freshly showered and well-dressed as his large, commendable hands carried a handful of trays. His emotion was incomprehensible due to his soft raven hair, which covered almost half of his eyes. It was moist and unruly, common for men who had just taken a Luke warm bath.

"There's room service here every Saturday," he started before placing the tray on my lap. He stared at me adoringly, praising every detail of my eyes. And I ordered breakfast since you must take it before returning home." He spoke softly, almost seraphic and sincere.

My chest tightened for an inscrutable reason, focusing my stare on my plate since looking at his eyes made me uncomfortable. I muttered inaudible words of gratitude before eating my meal, softening my stare when every food had elegance and affection.

I took my first bite, but my blonde hair made its way to cover my mouth, and I stopped eating from embarrassment. Dominic noticed my uneasiness, and his eyes flickered before taking his necktie beside the nightstand, running his fingers through it before tying my hair and grasping something in his hands—my breath was halted when his manly scent lingered. And his own hot breath fanned across my neck as he put the attachment.

He's just a friend, Mary Jane. There's no reason to cross the line, I reminded myself.

Dominic put the remaining strands of hair behind my ears, touching the slightest of my skin. Noticing that he had just put on a beautiful necklace, he said gently yet commandingly, "Keep this. It will make you feel safer."

It was almost eight thirty when I walked out of his room, freshly cleaned and well-prepared as I made my way through the Dorm's hallway.

Mastema's reflection irradiates under the sun's rays, complementing the series of vintage architecture that it emphasizes. I was only ten feet away from Dominic's room when I saw Esmeralda or Alda. Who just left her room, looking at my eyes with doubt?

"Mary Jane,"

I grew stiff and hid the necklace under my dress, lowering my head before walking past her. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that she wouldn't press about confidentiality. But her petite yet firm hands stopped me in my tracks, grabbing me before taking me inside her room.

"What's that for? Did you know that guy?"

My eyes knit together from the question itself: Alda is my friend. But her false accusations about Dominic made me unsettled. I avoided her burning gaze before speaking softly: "I...sleep in his room...because of the event that occurred a few nights ago. And yes, I know him." I explained, knowing that she already knew what I was referring to.

"No, you didn't even know him, Mary Jane,"

"He's my friend."

"But he's dangerous. There's no reason for you to deal with him. He never cared about a certain person's feelings. And he might hurt you. Look, I know that you're innocent because you grew up in a monastery, but that doesn't mean that I would just sit back and let you get closer to that predator—he taunts the things that he wants. And you might be trapped and suffocated when you're already under his control." Alda pleads, grasping both of my arms.

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