I am petrified. Hovering. Clenching. Trembling. As soon as he walked out of those doors, regretting my choice of words. The table edges are starting to hurt my palm, but I am numb. My thoughts still wandered out of the pain.
A mix of emotions is the voice in my head. Now he thinks I am the same kind of gut-filled person when, in reality, I am not. The blood rushing inside my pulse turned cold when I heard it was not Matthew who I walked out with. Who the hell did I leave the mall with? I am once again not sure.
HE sounded, walked, dressed, and even looked like Matthew. You can't convince me it is not him. Now, I am not certain I am safe outside, safe in my own house, safe at work, safe around him...
My brain jumping right into the conclusion, desperate for answers. The gears in my head are finally turning, setting in places, but I am still filled with what-ifs and doubts that can go against it.
When I reached out, he responded almost immediately. I was aware that he was a busy man who spared his precious time for someone like me. I should feel grateful. This helping hand carrying me at my toughest time. But I'm doubting, uncertain. What if it was a plan? Planned out perfectly all along.
My eyes zeroed in on the details carved. My nail picking on the visible splinters. What if it was his plot to get me so vulnerable? I cannot reach out to anyone but him. I knew that he knew he was the closest to the town. Maybe I'm wrong. Completely wrong. I inspect the white dent in my palm closely.
Maybe my mind is trying to build a barrier. To find a conclusion so I can sleep in peace. Have a night without the constant dread. Thinking of sleep. I'm tired. Exhausted. But surrounding me were unpacked boxes in each corner.
A debate in my mind. The results were sleep. Sleep until you don't wake up. If you did, you should see the skies and have wings.
It's sunrise.
I am up. Same day. Same thoughts. Downstairs. Matthew is pretending again. Putting on the "I am a nice guy who's here to save you." grin. I gave an acknowledging nod. The mouthwatering aroma of breakfast filled my breathing lungs. He made this, huh?
A level up to the act- my gaze zeroed in on the box in his hand. He's holding it as if he's not sure if I'll be happy with what I'll see next. I'm tempted to ignore it, but he has all of my attention. I watched as his hands reached inside and clenched around something.
My eyebrows almost touched my hairline when he arranged a stack of CCTVs orderly on the wooden table. The wooden table looks old compared to the silver, white, and black glinting in the perfectly filtered sun. My breath caught in my throat. "I bought it so we can monitor around the house. You can feel a little safer." And I'm regretting it all over again. Safety? My safety. His voice so reassuring. I'm tempted to put my trust in him again.
The tip of my tongue darts out and runs over my chapped lips. My brain is working overtime to form a simple sentence. His eyes are deeply searching mine for approval, maybe even a little smile. My lips curve slightly, forming a smile and his beaming.
His smile looks like it hurts because he's as tired as I am, maybe even more. The side of his eyes is wrinkling. He's doing all of this for the sake of making me feel and live like a normal human being. I wanna laugh. Laugh and cry in his arms.
He's next to me, my body shifts subtly closer. His hand already reaches out, brushing the messy strands away from my face. His fingers are surprisingly warm, like the touch of the sun. Each fingertip carries a sun of its own and I am ice, melting under his touch.
Am leaning, leaning into his touch without hesitation. I could hear my heart pounding in my rib cage, ready to break out at any moment. I am afraid he will hear it too.
"You're going to be fine under my watch," I paid attention to his lips as he formed the words. I needed water to wash down the lump in my vocal cords. I wanted to answer, but he's too close, his breath hot against my skin.
My lips parted.
Gasping. Gasping. Gasping.
Everything zooms out of focus except him. I don't know if his eyes are closed because mine are. I must seem eager to him. I can't control the craving and burning sensation of affection that is catching up to me.
His fingers behind my ear, tangling in my hair, pulling closer and closer, closing the gap between us painfully slow. The atmosphere is tense; no air could be felt in this moment but heat. It's suffocating. He's uttering some words I can't make out, but it sounded raspy and huskier.
I am a mush. Without bones to hold me up, muscles to move. I am gambling away my ability to move for this touch of lips. So close, so close. The doorbell rang. A light sigh. A step away, and I am left alone.
I don't know if I am imagining his quiet sorry; it's pure silence. I opened my eyes, drowning in regret. My face dropped into my hands. I am dumb and stupid. After that, the supposed normal morning breakfast was awkward.
At least going to work was gonna spare me from this. My shift hour changes and I am left with nothing but 1-minute voice records regarding work. It's starting to frustrate me. Today's shift was in the afternoon. Mathew insisted on driving me. I am f̶o̶r̶c̶e̶d̶ in the passenger seat. My shoulders are tensed. The tensed string between us could be cut.
Watching as different shapes and coloured buildings. The other side of the window. Eye-catching arts. Street lamps speed by. One, two, three. The sky is pretty. Oh- "I'm sorry." I turned, and his eyes were already on me. I suck in a quick breath. Should I respond?
Note from author: hello, my fellow readers. If any of yall still catching up on my stories. Am really grateful you are. I took a very long breaks between chapters. Sorry for keeping yall waiting. Stay tuned for another chapter. Leave a comment. ♡
