The Ember In The Storm

Chapter 8: Divulge

    JACKSON stood in his place for a while, thinking as the setting sun highlighted the structure of his jawline.

Elizabeth watched the side of his face, his brunet hair fell to his shoulders in a disheveled manner, probably from all the times he combed through it with his hands. A subconscious action he did when he stressed.

With a sigh, Jackson's pale-pink lips plopped outwards, resting his hands on his waist.

Elizabeth gulped, all walls she built up the second he left her months ago came crashing down to the ground, all just at the sight of him.

Her heart needed what her body wanted. Him.

I must be a masochist, she thought to herself, how do I still want him as badly as before even after he said he wanted nothing to do with me right to my face?

Elizabeth could still remember the shatter it brought to her.

Rejection.

It felt like a lot; abandonment, loneliness, self-loathing and it gave her insecurities.

The door opposite Elizabeth began to open. Quickly, she jolted to reality and looked at the window, realizing Jackson had disappeared.

In a swift manner, she threw her body back down to bed and pulled the sheets to her neck, pretending to be asleep.

The floors creaked as the door shut behind Jackson, his heavy boats hitting hard below, getting louder and louder to Elizabeth until he sat down on his stool.

"Are you hungry?" He said suddenly, "I am positive you are, I have asked one of my men to make you a hot meal."

Elizabeth opened her eyes in confusion and wondered who he was talking to. He sat across the room, drawing something on a scroll as his back faced her.

"How are you feeling?"

No response.

"Call me delusional but I'm liking the idea of believing you're not talking to me because you like having the 'I can't speak English' persona going on, but I hope you know you can talk to me now, it's just the two of us," He turned his body to her.

Having taken the jacket off, Jackson was now dashingly dressed in a cream white shirt, untuck from his breeches and falling just to his thighs.

Elizabeth was still trying to understand how he knew she woke up. The answer was simple on his part, she wheezed every time she slept.

"I'm fine," she said bluntly siting upright with a wince at her abdominal pain. She had completely forgotten about that one. She rubbed her stomach to soothe the ache.

"Found bruises on your back and abdomen," Jackson leaned his back against the edge of the table. "The latter looks recent, there's even swelling. What ha—"

"I'm thirsty," Elizabeth looked around the room, hugging her body tightly.

Jackson pressed his lips together, grabbing the glass from his desk and walking to her. She took the drink as he stood beside her, folding his arms over his chest.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing here? How did you get here?" He asked with impatience. "Most of all, how did you end up being sold?"

"Like it's an uncommon thing. I was walking down the road and some men pulled me into their carriage, really," she forced a smile, taking a final gulp of her water.

"I'm serious," he sneered. "What happened to the mansion? Where is Luke, Vaughn?"

"Last time I saw Luke he said he was going to hold off the men or something," Elizabeth buried her face into her hands.