ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
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"You know way too much." Harry looks deeply into my eyes, making my skin crawl as his intimidating tone leaves chills running down my spine. "I have no choice. I have to kill you." He says, making my lips part as a gasp slips from my mouth.
I begin to narrow my eyes at him, feeling my throat tighten as I stare back with a million nerves fluttering around in my stomach. His eyes refuse to part from mine, fighting for dominance as he leans in closer to the table.
"I did it." He confesses, triggering me to hold my breath. "I'm the murderer. I killed them."
Biting down on my lip to hide the look on my face, he searches for an expression but widens his red eyes as I finally speak.
"Ugh! You clearly don't know how to play the game. I've gone over the rules five times." I drop my Clue cards down on the table and watch his eyes roll as he sits back further in the chair. "We're supposed to figure out who the killer is. You're not supposed to threaten me or confess to doing it, Professor Plum."
"What? I thought I was Miss Scarlet." He states with a crease between his brows, looking back and forth between me and the board. "I don't think this is working. This says three or more players, anyways." He points to the box.
I laugh and place my finger over the writing on the other side. "This also says ages eight and up." I tease, watching him try to hide his smirk as I poke fun at his comprehension skills.
I knew he was playing wrong the minute he started talking. I just wanted to see how far this little confession of his would go.
I almost believed him for a second.
Dropping his cards from his hand, he slides the chair out from under the table and looks down at me as I begin gathering all of the pieces together; listening to the music that plays from the radio on top of the kitchen counter.
Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining Players only love you when they're playing
"Come outside with me." He speaks softly, in which a demand sounds more like a question, pulling a cigarette out from the red pack he keeps held tightly in his hand. "We can clean this up later. It's only" he looks over at the clock and narrows his eyes, "two."
"So you're telling me we've been trying to start a game for over an hour?" I shake my head and smile, watching him run his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he hides his smirk. "Yes, I will go outside with you." I slide my chair back and stand up as he motions his hand toward the door, waiting for me to walk in front of him.
