Married To The Devil

Chapter Twelve

Austin is on the display bar!

Not edited!!

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D e v i l' s R e t u r n

I cringed. Since not only did Austin look like someone who was drunk out of his mind, but also smelled like one, too. He was still in the shirt he wore yesterday, his black tie loose and his black hair sticking up in every angle and direction. Once Austin saw it was me at his door, he attempted a smile but it looked more like a grimace. Leaning not-so-gently on the door's frame, making the ice cubes clink loudly with the glass holding them, he said, "what? Missed me so much already?"

I coughed awkwardly, since his breath reeked of the alcohol he was drinking, and raised both my eyebrows at him. "Same ol'Austin!" I muttered under my breath, but somehow he managed to hear me as his chest rumbled with a low chuckle. "Anyway, I came here to . . ."

Austin cut me off before I could finish my sentence, putting two fingers to my lips. I leaned backwards and away from him. Before I could speak again, he shushed me and gestured for me to go inside. I raised an eyebrow at him, giving him an are-you-freaking-crazy look, before I shook my head.

"Oh, come on, Clarabelle, I don't bite," he said, rolling his eyes at me. Surprisingly enough, his words were not as slur-ish as they were supposed to be, or he was just much soberer than he appeared to be. Either way his voice was demanding enough when he asked me to come in again.

Austin made way for me to come into his room, and I stepped in hesitently, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. Once inside, Austin closed the door and passed by me to a table holding bottles and bottles of liquor I could not start naming. Scrunching up my face, I watched as Austin chugged down his drink in one gulp and went to pour down another one.

"You should seriously stop drinking," I said in a monotone, "it's not going to do you any good."

"Oh, yes, it will," he disagreed, gulping down that drink as well and going for another one. "You have no idea!"

"I can't see anything good about something that makes you dumb and impulsive," I countered, crossing my arms at my chest.

Austin shrugged and moved towards me, making me drop my hands and take a step backwards. Tipping his glass of liquor towards me he said, "well, it helps me forget you." He took a sip this time before frowning at me, his blue eyes flashing with something that looked like pain. "But you being here, this close to me, is not really helping."

My heart accelerated at his words. I supposed it was only fear because more than one emotion was flashing in his eyes as he stared intensively down at me. Or I just blamed it at the fact that he was sort of drunk and wasn't conscious enough that he might hurt me.

"I'll go then," I told him, hastily, "I just wanted to apologize about the way I treated you down in the restaurant. We are both grown ups and we've moved on, so it was wrong of me to react the way I did. Bye, Austin."

With that said, I turned around to leave, feeling horribly stupid for coming in, in the first place. But right when I took one step forward, Austin grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him. I almost collided with his chest, but he managed to respect me enough to keep me at a decent distance from him. "Speak for yourself, Clara," he snarled at me, "I didn't."

"Really, Austin," I narrowed my eyes at him, "you've lived without me for what, four or five years? You didn't even try to contact me and now you say you didn't move on? You sure as heck did. Both of us did. Now, I really would appreciate it if you'd let me go . . ."