Up close, I can smell him. Not strong, but overwhelming and oh so attention grabbing. On top of that, his height overpowers mine, even despite him leaning over. His eyes are hooded, blue orbs lively as the ocean, and pupils dilated. His lips twitch at the corner, eyes darting from one eye to the other, then to my lips.
"I thought the same." He mutters. "Now I'm starting to think you're a book filled with secrets."
My heart? Drops right to my core.
Of course, every morsel of my entire being is stagnant. I think the only thing moving, if not my eyes, is my heart, thumping deeply, loudly. I'm confident he very much can hear it without even trying, without even thinking about it. He can damn near hear the blood rushing in my veins with every pump.
We're holding such intense eye contact, I have every reason to look away but I don't. Warning sirens echo at the back of my head though I try by all means to avoid and ignore them. The butterflies in my stomach; I can't say if it's a good or bad thing, though I for sure press my knees together and feel my stomach clench.
I have a boyfriend, back up a bit - that's exactly what's racing through my mind, but I highly doubt he'd care. I'm in an elevator with him, emergency stop being activated and damn near no where else to run to if he decided to do the unspeakable.
I don't fear that, I don't him. I fear his ability to get into my head. I fear him using his wolf abilities on me, like he has many times before, and finding out things I'm too much of a coward to admit at this moment.
I shrug first, eyes blinking. "You think I have secrets?"
"Don't you?"
"I think we all do."
"Yet yours seem enticing." He squints, then chuckles with the corner of his lips raising up. "I think as friends... it makes sense to have trust between us. I should be able to ask you questions and you, being honest and vulnerable with me, should be able to answer them. Without lying."
Oh. I feel my toes curl as curiosity and nervousness wash over me. "Well, what do you want to know?"
"This, back at the briefing. That wasn't the first time you did that. Speak into the air, directly towards me. Speak to me despite the distance between us. You did it first at that event, in the parking lot. You did it again at the briefing. In the midst of it, you said something to me."
I shrug, heart now in my throat, appalled though trying to pretend I'm as cool as a cucumber. "I... was just complimenting you."
"In the midst of the congregation applauding? What made you certain I'd hear you?"
"I wasn't-"
"So you just, what, thought you'd mess around and find out? For the second time." He tilts his head.
"I was just thinking out loud." I reason, eyes lowering down to his neck, then to as much chest as his shirt allows. "I have a tendency of speaking my thoughts out loud. I was just thinking out loud."
"You do?" I nod. "Towards me?" I nod again. "With the intention of me hearing."
"I don't know if you-"
But I'm interjected when he hums in disagreement, lifting a hand to my jaw and lifting my chin up, just for him to indicate his desires for me to speak to him; not to his chest or shirt or below his head, but directly into his eyes. Directly to him, in his soul.
He clearly wants to ensure what I say is truthful, that even as I speak, he can decipher the truth behind every vowel.
"Speak."
