Unfading Shadows [2]

18

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"Morning," Vince said, voice slow and deep, rumbling from somewhere deep inside.

He was wearing his regular black t-shirt, which highlighted his well-defined body. His damp, dark hair was elegantly slicked back, lending him an air of effortless charm.

"Good morning," Luke acknowledged with a slight nod of his head.

"Good morning," Miray whispered as she unconsciously pulled Luke closer, her grip on his shirt tightening.

Her chest constricted when she noticed Vince's face contorting with a mix of anger and frustration. For a fleeting moment, a storm seemed to brew within him, his eyes turning into an intense shade, signaling an internal struggle.

Without saying a word, he made his way to the refrigerator and reached for a cold water bottle to quench the fiery turmoil that was gripping his heart.

Miray hated it.

She felt a sharp pang of sorrow as she witnessed the distance growing between them, an ever-widening divide that gnawed at her heart.

It was killing both of them.

Miray wanted nothing more than to rush into his arms and convey her profound love through a tight, unyielding hug, a testament to their unbreakable bond. Yet, to her confusion, an inexplicable force prevented her from fulfilling this simple act of affection.

Miray struggled to comprehend the source of her actions and emotions. Vince hadn't done anything unforgivable, and she wasn't even upset anymore.

Then what was wrong with her? Why was she doing this?

The situation was quite frustrating because it didn't make any sense.

"Right," Luke said, abruptly shattering the heavy silence that had enveloped them. His hand instinctively extended towards Miray's hair, delicately brushing it aside, his fingers reveling in the luxurious sensation of its silkiness. "You go eat your breakfast first, and I'll go change my clothes, then meet to drink your medicine, okay?" he whispered gently, his thumb caressing her delicate, pale cheek in a tender gesture.

Miray remained silent, unable to find her voice, her heartbeats quickened, and her palms grew damp with the mere thought of being alone with Vince.

"Baby," Luke called out worriedly, his gaze fixated on her with deep concern.

Miray looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes locking with his in a moment of vulnerability. "O-okay," she whispered, her voice trembling softly, feeling as though she had no other choice.

"Okay," Luke nodded after a brief pause. "I'll be upstairs. Do you prefer to eat here or in the living room?" he asked, extending the option to accommodate her comfort.

Miray swallowed nervously, her gaze unconsciously drifting past Luke to where Vince stood with the bottle squeezed in his hand, his gaze fixed upon them, waiting eagerly for her response.

Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, and a surge of discomfort compelled her to avert her gaze, shying away from his intense stare.

The sight of her avoiding him fueled a wave of seething anger within Vince, causing him to slam the bottle onto the counter in frustration before storming away.