( 18+)
"You've been avoiding me." I whispered, softly. "Why?"
His stare was fixated on me, he was focusing on my chest heaving up and down. His fingers dug even deeper against my hips, he was fighting every instinct in his body.
"I'm afraid I might...
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I felt a pair of eyes staring at me, that feeling filled my body and my eyes fluttered open. The room was dark and I could barely see anything, my window was wide open allowing the harsh breeze to brush against my cheek along with the moonlight shining inside just a little.
That's when I saw him, he was sitting in a chair across from my bed with his elbows propped against his knees. He had a pair of shorts on with his bare chest on display, his silver cross necklace dangling around his neck. I brought my blanket up under my neck, trying my best to stay as decent as possible.
"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" I asked, my voice was croaky and sounded sleepy. "In my room."
"I don't know." He mumbled under his breath, his eyes stalking mine. "Maybe I'm debating."
"Debating on what to do with you."
I gulped quietly, great he's trying to find out the best way to kill me in my sleep.
"Angel, it's not what your thinking." He said. "I don't want to kill you."
Okay so, he planted a chip in my head to find out what I'm thinking.
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I asked, my nails digging inside the thin blanket.
"Your body language." He pointed at me and my eyes fell to my tense shoulder, I immediately relaxed them. "It's easy to read." He finished.
He eased back in the chair, his chin held a little higher while watching me. It was silent but not an awkward one that typically makes you feel uncomfortable, it was a comforting one which was strange as is. My hand subconsciously lowered my blanket, there wasn't much to show since the nightgown covered most of my skin.
"Pink must be your favorite color." He mentioned, casually.
"I think you might be right, I tend to gravitate towards it."
"What's yours?" I asked, it's late at night but here we are talking about colors.
"Black." He said.
I wanted to roll my eyes, out of all the colors he picked black as his favorite.
"That was such a," I replied with a chirp. "I'm a dude and I only like the color black because it's the same color as my soul response."
He chuckled, and his mouth formed the smallest smile but it allowed me to see his pearl-white teeth. Who knew someone's smile could be so beautiful, it made me want to see more of his smile.
"It just is." He said but I don't believe him not even in the slightest.
Maybe I had a smile fetish in the past, is that even a thing?
It got quiet again, my eyes kept fluttering between his and my bed. This was a weird way to switch up but I needed someone to listen to me, and maybe respond. It's been troubling me ever since I woke up on this bed, it's driving me crazy.
