Captive Of The Count

19

Amara's pov

Orian let go of me after saying those words that I was trying hard to decipher their meaning. They seemed innocent but I couldn't think of hidden meaning for them if there was one. It was at the tip of my tongue to ask him what he meant and if it was possible, he could show me.

I wanted to know badly. I wanted to know what he thought about me, how he felt about me, if he was going to take me on a second date if he wanted to be friends or friends without morals. I scrunched my nose, his words twisting in my head as I watched him trace his steps back to the bag he had dropped earlier.

"I got you something." He sounded composed as always even after saying the most bizarre things and leaving me flustered.

The bag dangled in his hands as he walked toward the bench that was placed next to the banister of the balcony. He sat on it, his legs were spread a bit with his elbows resting on them, and the bag dangled between his legs. I watched him closely, noticing the way his head was bent and his shoulders hunched like he was tired. He was tired and I had seen this posture before. It was exactly how my stalker had sat on the park bench the other day with the same traits of tiredness.

Different hair, different handwriting, no tattoos for the stalker, no scars for Orian, not the same people, Despite these thoughts I watched him under a scrutinizing gaze trying to play detective, to see if I'd find anything weird.

"Come here." I heeded his demand. His words broke through my thoughts and I moved toward him. His head was raised now, watching me with his hawk-like gaze, and I felt his eyes trail over my body and I wished I could creep into his head to know what he thought of me. I didn't want him to see me as a naive little girl. I wanted him to look at me as a woman, "How old are you?"

"I am a woman." I blurted out. I wanted to smack myself square in the face. I was standing before him and he was gazing at me with that amused look and a raised brow, "Never mind that I am small, I am big on the inside." He seemed entertained by the rubbish coming out of my mouth cause he didn't stop my blubbering, "I am big enough to be your friend, and I am big enough for you to do the beyond moral acts with." I couldn't stop myself from talking, "Since we can't be friends, maybe you want to be my best friend as you implied by that moral act statement, although Rose will be pissed that I have a second best friend, I will tell her that it doesn't matter, that she is m-"

"How old?"

"20." I was drawing circles with my feet now, "Almost 21 soon." I quickly added.

"Too young." He muttered under his breath and withdrew from me a bit, my heart fell and I wanted to hug him close and tell him that we could still be friends and do stuff beyond the moral acts like he wanted as far as it wasn't stuff that my parents will disapprove of.

"Too old." I rolled my eyes with bitterness and he grabbed my hands and yanked me down on the bench next to him.

"Repeat that." His eyes glimmered with mischief as he dared me.

"Too old," I repeated myself, and his fingers were on my side in an instant and high-pitched giggles erupted from me as I squirmed on the bench trying to escape his tickles, "I-a-m sorry." I managed to squeeze out the words between my bouts of laughter and then noticed something as I looked at his face.

He wasn't laughing like I was but he looked radiant and more relieved like he was having fun from making me laugh. Even though he didn't smile or even smirk, he still looked glad in his orian type of way.

"So what did you get me?" I asked when he released me from his torturous fingers. He picked up the bag and shoved it in my hands. I didn't delay in digging into it, the smell of old books hit my nostrils, and my eyes lit with glee on peering into the bag, he got me books.