Whimsical Perfection

23. Magnetism

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
            —William Shakespeare,
                Sonnet 18

~♤ ▪︎ ♤ ▪︎ ♤~

Dread.

It was what I was feeling this morning, as I got ready for the special practice which would be monitored by the producers.

It wasn't just because I thought we were still underprepared, but because I wasn't sure how to face a certain someone after.... we almost had sex the last time we saw each other.

Sure, it was no big deal for me to deal with these men afterwards, but he was not in their category. This man was going to be in my sight for a long time, for a few months at least, and the fact that we didn't actually have sex but only came close to it will definitely have some after effects.

I was aware that he was a good for nothing asshole who only thinks about himself, and is really hard to control, but the uncertainty of the what's going to happen today was eating at me. I had never compromised when it came to being in control before. Neither had I ever trusted someone enough to take control of my life, nor had I actively followed someone's lead before. And ever since he came around, the lack of control over him or my life and work is what is driving me insane.

Today, all I will aim for, is to get that control back from him. I can't, and won't let him walk all over me time and time again. He won't ever win the games he was playing with me, because he might be used to winning every time, but I was the toughest player he would ever encounter.

The car ride to the theater was silent, of course, yet the sound of my thoughts were making me deaf. Without the morning news or songs playing, I was left at the mercy of my ruthless subconscious who ripped me apart every time I got soft on the inside. There were a lot of other factors to take into consideration, and my behavior could be deemed as extremely puerile, yet my bruised ego refused to let go and wanted me to act like I've always done. Like I don't need anyone, they need me.

Entering the theater was harder this morning. I hadn't thought that I, Scarlett Lockewood, would be so nervous about something that has been my job for the last ten years. I gritted my teeth involuntarily, my temper instantly flaring up when I remembered the cause of my nervousness. This man really did come here to become my undoing.

He was affecting every part of my life, and gradually, he would gain control on such issues and things that will render me helpless. He totally needs to be stopped, come hell or high water.

Pushing back all the anxiousness and what if's, I reached the hall. Opening the door, I heaved a sigh of relief when I didn't find the producers in there. It meant I could at least talk to my cast members for a bit before proceeding with the rehearsal.

The mood of the room was pensive as it is, and when my eyes locked with the man I wanted to strangle and avoid all at once, I was shocked momentarily. Dressed in a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with black dress pants, he looked every bit a dream. And the worst part about his appearance were his eyes. His eyes were looking at me with a different emotion this time. They weren't cold, or detached, they were.... reassuring?

It was as if he was trying to console me through eye contact, not knowing that seeing his face would only drive me over the edge. Was he trying to do this because he could see how nervous I was for today? But why would he even care? He was always the kind of person who worked alone even in a team, so why the fuck was he bothered about someone else? That too, me?

I guess the staring at each other must have happened for too long, because I saw him walk towards me. More like stalk towards me, judging by the slow, calculated steps he was taking. Was he trying to intimidate me right now?

I couldn't help but feel angrier at him, but still, I also couldn't help but notice that he did look pretty intimidating when he did that. Suddenly, as he stood in front of me, I was taken back to that night. Pictures of every scene were extracted from the deepest reservoirs of my mind, and were splashed across the main table for me to see clearly. And the worse thing was that all those pictures were incredibly vivid.

"Good morning, Miss Lockewood. I hope you're doing fine this morning." Je greeted me with his usual silky voice, almost melting me to a puddle.

Trying to stay in control, I cleared my throat before replying, "Good morning to you too. And I'm doing perfectly fine, thanks for asking."

My reply was curt, tone sharp, and intentions clear. Yet, for some reason, this man couldn't get it. At all. He smiled at me, borderline smirking down at me from his incredible height, as if he was mocking me. He then came a bit closer, making me flustered and step back from him. But that didn't stop him from whispering those words in my ears.

"Won't you ask me how I'm doing this morning, Miss Lockewood? Or much better, how I have been doing ever since you left me needing a cold shower that night? You're really too cruel for my poor heart, Miss Lockewood. I hope you know that."

Listening to his words, I stiffened and turned warm, feeling my blush coming on at full force. Breathlessly, I looked at his lust filled eyes when he pulled back, and I knew one thing in that moment.

That whatever I had planned seriously wouldn't work on me or him. The ball wasn't in my court anymore. It was long passed to him, and I was at his mercy fully. Now, he was the one who would have control over me, not the other way round.

~♤ ▪︎ ♤ ▪︎ ♤~