Chapter Five...Tears of Ice

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Copyright 2011 Lindsay Covington

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Chapter Five

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I did know, Tristan.” I put all of the ice in my eyes as I could while I glared at him coolly.

“My God!” He placed a hand over his heart and pretended to stagger back under some heavy weight, “I think that’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you! You could kill someone with that look!”

I narrowed my eyes, “Then drop dead already.” I hissed in a distant tone, despite my chilly words. The only indication to my true mood being my eyes.

“Not happening, princess.”

“I’m not a princess.” I muttered and turned my back to him, but not before I caught him raising a dark red eyebrow.

“I think you’ll find otherwise, princess,” He stressed the word, drawing it out slowly. I fumed silently, breathing heavily through my nose.

“Leave me alone. Whatever is going on and wherever I am is entirely your fault.” I strode across the room and sat on the thick window sill, crushing various flowers in my way.

“Not necessarily. Only the second part is my fault, but really it’s not. I was just doing what I was supposed to do.” I heard amusement dripping from his voice.

“Oh please, I don’t understand crap! And there is no way that this is my fault! Where the hell am I?!” Anger finally managed to creep it’s way into my voice. A slow, lazy clapping reached my ears.

Clap...clap...clap...

Tristan’s palms slapped against each other as he chuckled deeply, “Doesn’t it feel good to feel? I was beginning to think you were an ice sculpture. You certainly showed the emotion of one.” My anger spiked with each  sluggish clap.

I dug my fingertips into the stone of the window I was sitting on and gritted my teeth. “Not particularly. Now would you please leave?”

“Ah...You’ll come around to your feelings.” He shrugged and continued, “And I think that I’ll stay...it is my house you know.”

“But I’m your guest. Aren’t you supposed to cater to a guest’s each and every request? Well I’m requesting you to leave.” He leaned against the vine covered walls and crossed his arms over his chest. The white tunic he was wearing stretched over the well defined muscles of his chest and he smirked at me.

“Not really, if I recall correctly, my sister and I had to force you here. So that would make you my prisoner, therefore you have to obey me. And I’m not leaving without you, princess.” He smirked at me.

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