Aurora

chapter 9

I peeled my eyes open and the first thing I saw was white ceiling. Everything was silent, and moving felt like an effort, so I didn't bother. My throat was ached and felt somewhat parched. Had I been screaming?

I willed my subconscious to wake up and a pain shot through my head. Argh. Plastering both of my hands on my head in a misconception the pain might miraculously disappear, my eyes traveled through the room.

Water.

Some water.

That's all I needed.

And some Advil I guess.

What had happened?

A faint echo of footsteps reached me and soon, the door opened and Chris Hawthorne stepped inside. He was still clad in his suit though the tie had loosened as if he'd been tugging on it, and hair a mess.

So beautiful.

At that moment. I didn't want to remember the situation he'd deliberately pulled me in. My brows furrowed.

My eyes did another sweep of of my room, and this time, my eyes widened on their own accord as they landed on him.

"What are you doing here?", I rasped.

I held my throat, massaging it. It felt like someone had torn my vocals. And then, my body had the effect of his piercing gaze. Hands trembling, I clutched my throat in agony.

His blue, piercing gaze settled on my hand on neck as he walked to bed, killing the distance. He sat beside me, maintaining healthy distance between us. My heart stuttered in my chest at his expression.

What had happened.

And then, he did it.

He removed my hand settled on my neck, caressing the back of it, and placed his large hand there.

I stopped breathing.

"I thought I've been through the hell. But when I heard you scream, I learned that something way much worse than hell exists."

That's when everything pieced together in my head, like a jigsaw puzzle fitting into place. 

Someone had entered the apartment. Someone tried to...

I tried to jump out of bed, and his grasp, but he his other arm wrapped around my midriff. "No...no. S-someone might have laid in the bed, hell breathed the same air."

Sweat doubled on my body withing seconds.

"Hey. You need to rest", I withdrew from his touch and jumped out of bed, anxiety racking my body. Chris materialized beside me, all six four and muscles.

Hump.

"Rest where? On this bed? Where the stalker might have been?", my hand shook as I tried to point at the bed and keep my voice and heartbeat neutral.

And then, Chris held my hand. Chris Hawthorne held my hand and pushed me out the room with him.

My subconscious was fully awake now. Well thank you, bitch.

So much was happening, and my head hurt.

Sometimes I wanted to play dead. 

My throat hurt, my boss who'd made a business deal to marry me was inside my apartment, god knows why.

Out in the drawing room, I saw my brother Ian and the worse probability hit me. Did he tell him about his proposal? Was he forcing Ian into this as well? Was he—