In the wake of her parents' passing, Avalyn Adair returns to her childhood abode, seeking closure and a better understanding of the events that shaped her younger years. As she delves deeper into the mysteries of her family, she uncovers a shock rev...
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I figured it'd be easier to visualize the layout of the house with this, so here is my shitty lil edit. If it doesn't match up with my previous writing... mind your business.
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Adrenaline kicks in as I begin to push, but the mountain of a man stays put, not budging in the slightest. He looks down at me questionably, then slides off of me, resettling at the edge of my bed. I sit up, pressing myself back against the headboard. My eyes dart around the room, searching for the other man, but Cierien and I are the only ones here.
"Why do you seem so frightened? You said yourself that you intended to release both of us," he inquires, his face etched with confusion.
"You also said you'd only free him once he'd cooled off. I wasn't expecting it to happen this quickly. How did I get back in my room, and what were you doing just now?!" My words tumble out in a rush as I hurriedly look down, realizing my legs are now exposed.
I hastily yank the covers over my bare legs, shielding my body from his gaze. My mind feels muddled as I struggle to make sense of everything. It felt like a mere dream, but obviously, it was not. He eyes me suspiciously, seemingly oblivious as to why I could feel such discomfort.
"I carried you up after you fell asleep in my arms," he replies with a self-satisfied grin. "As for Wrath, he has cooled off. I apologize for not giving you a heads-up before I brought him up, but I assumed our previous conversation covered that."
Ignoring this, I press on, my tone firm. "What were you just doing?" I repeat, unwilling to let him evade the issue.
His smile fades as he narrows his eyes at me. "Well, you were there, weren't you? Shouldn't that answer your question?" he retorts dryly, a layer of sarcasm in his words.
"No, you can't do that!" I counter, asserting a boundary that I hadn't thought necessary until now.
He faintly flinches at my words. His eyes widen, and he looks at me as if I have just dealt him a physical blow. His fingers clench the sheets tightly, the whiteness of his knuckles contrasting against the fabric. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his words tinged with regret. "I assumed you were... comfortable with it." He quickly amends, "That you would find-"
"That you had found enjoyment in it."
His tone shifts into a more plaintive register. "Earlier, you seemed so at ease when I held you, comforted you, and..." He pauses, struggling to find his wording. "Doted on you, I suppose. You were so lovely for me. You didn't object then. So, why the reaction now?" he implores, his eyes welling with emotion as he stares intensely at me, waiting for a response.
"Me sitting in your lap is not consent to touch me while-" My voice trails off as I hesitate, not wanting to finish the sentence due to the flush of embarrassment that overtakes me.
