Weather Bound

Chapter Three

It was a bathroom, a very big one.

The mirror filled the entire wall in front of me and the sink was directly to my right, built into the wall. A toilet was against the wall to my left and next to it, tucked in the corner, was a massive vintage bathtub and a walk-in shower was across from it. The bathroom itself was covered in white tile that's lined with silver and as I took in the marvelous room, I couldn't help but wonder why in the hell he'd given me this- or are all the bedrooms like this? I slid my fingers across the wall and it felt unfamiliar, way too fancy for someone like me. I took a deep breath, trying to accept it all, before switching off the light and closing the door.

My stomach was growling so I walked out to the hallway and down the stairs, letting my hand glide on the rail as I looked around the living room again. I made my way across and to the kitchen doorway- but instead of walking into the kitchen like I was planning, I ended up slamming straight into Luke's chest. My feet slide out from under me and my hands reach out for something to grab, it's hard to see into this room from the staircase and I guess he was exiting just as I was entering. There was a sound of glass shattering, and I braced myself to hit the floor. . . but it didn't come.

One of his arms had wrapped around my waist, keeping me upright, and my hands had flailed out and had a firm grip on his shoulders. He'd put his other hand on the doorway to hold us steady and there was barely any space between us, I just now noticed that he is at least a full foot taller than me. My heart was in my throat when our eyes met and the colors around him bled red. What was it about this man that attracted me to him and why does his touch set my skin on fire even through our clothes? I've never wanted to be touched by someone else, never wanted or needed a hug or a friendly pat. How can one day, he just show up and set my entire world upside down in seconds? Why him?

"You alright?" he asked, breaking me out of my stupor. I'd been openly staring.

I moved away quickly, "Thanks." I mumble lamely, finally looking away from him and feeling vulnerable, which, was starting to make me frustrated. I could feel the blush spread up my neck and to my face. 

What is it about this guy? Honestly. I'm over it.

I heard a crunching sound coming from the ground beneath my beaten down converse, causing me to me look down. A decorative picture from a table next to the doorway, on the living room side, had been knocked over and the glass in it shattered.

"Shit. . ." I muttered and backed up more, bending down to pick up some of the bigger pieces.

Back at St. James? I'd have been punished for something like this. All I had to do is pay more attention and I was constantly getting distracted, even back then. And it's not like he was asking me to do much- just be clean and pick up after myself. My frustration is turning into guilt by the second and I was urgently trying to slide the bigger pieces into a pile, trying to stack it all in my hand- but my hands are shaking, making a sharper piece to scrape across my palm. I dropped them back to the ground, making a clatter and breaking a few of them into even more pieces. Another curse word came out of my mouth while I examined my stinging hand, drops of blood dripped down onto the floor as I stood back up, wanting to run to the sink but just staring at it instead. Watching it. Feeling like I deserved it.

In a flash, Luke was in front of me and taking my hand in his, bleeding palm facing up. He looked a little less like himself -brows furrowed, face hard- while he looked at the blood. Normally, it's as though nothing in the world could upset him and what scared me was how attracted I was to him at this second. That mind of his ticking, calculating, like he was coming up with plan A and it would be done exactly as he'd thought it, only adding a plan B for something he couldn't know of- like a ninja jumping in randomly from a window.