Sophia Rose is just an ordinary girl leading an ordinary life....or so she thinks. But one day, she witnesses something and meets someone she knows will change her life forever. Can things go back to the way they were? And more importantly, does she...
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"Come with me." The green-eyed stranger growls impatiently, walking swiftly down the corridor. I swallow my exasperation at the situation at hand. As if it wasn't bad enough that I witnessed a whole ass murder tonight, now I have to process that trauma with none other than this annoyingly attractive grade-A asshole?!
"Well? Are you coming? I don't have all night, you know." He snaps gruffly, turning on his heel momentarily before continuing his long-legged stride away. I snap out of my reverie of self-pity and walk quickly to catch up.
"Where are you even taking me?" I huff in annoyance, giving him a side-eye glare. God, he's tall...Focus, Soph. Think of the murder. No time for distractions right now. You can't be a bumbling idiot in front of him, you'll never live it down.
"Clearly you're not well acquainted with the fact that there is in fact a formal procedure to all this, sweetheart." He retorts sarcastically, giving me a sarcastic lopsided smirk.
I despise how my heart skips a beat from his patronizing nickname but swallow back my desire to snap back at him.
"We need to take a formal statement from you as a witness. You have to describe in detail what exactly it is you saw, who you saw, what the perp looked like, the victim. Everything. I'm just taking you to an interrogation room."
"Interrogation room? Jeez, I'm not the one that committed the crime!" I raise my voice in alarm, slightly panicked.
"Relax. It's just protocol. Moira will fetch you some coffee or water, I'm sure you're a bit rattled by all of it and it's not exactlyy going to be pleasant for you to recount what you saw." He answers. I squint back at him, suspicious at his sudden lack of snark but remain silent as we walk into a room with a stainless steel table, chair and a single lamp hanginf from the ceiling. God, it even looks like a prison.
"Alright, take a seat. Here's a form that you need to sign, we need your full name, and personal information as the witness for our records. Here, take my pen." He offers me a piece of paper. I frown at him and pick up the pen, nervously chewing my lip as I scan the form and fill it out.
The only sounds in the room are my pen scribbling on the paper, and a couple minutes later I look up, surprised at his silence. My eyes meet with his emerald ones, and they quickly dart away. I couldn't help but notice they had been fixated on my lip as I chewed it. He clears his throat.
"Are you finished with that, then?"
"Yeah, just about. So now what?" I click the pen and set it on the table, eyes nervously meeting his again.
"Well, now you tell me everything...sweetheart." He punctuates the 't', and that lopsided smirk reappears again. My face flushes. Pull yourself together, Soph.
"I was taking out the trash at the end of the day, when I heard a noise in the corridor between the coffee shop and the adjacent building. I heard the sound of someone pummelling another person, so I walked over to check it out, and saw a man beating up another man on the ground."
