Rose Thorns & Love Letters

48 ➪ Love, Hard

•Camilla•

Hours. It feels like we've been driving for hours. I can't even remember the moment I relented and ducked into the warmth of this car.

This Wagon that I know he loves so much. Its smooth leather and woodsy scent. The cool breeze that tends to invade my personal space even when the driver's scent manages to drown my entire being all by itself.

Not even the chilling draft can save me today. Not only is it too cold to allow any icy air past the slowly freezing windows, but Phoenix's presence is making me too hyperaware for any type of distraction to consume me.

Every flick of his wrist to check his watch. Every vein that bulges in his hand when he fiddles with the handbrake. Every breath that is taken too sharply or too loudly. I notice everything that the man who ruined my life as I knew it does and I have no means to escape it.

With my hands tucked nicely beneath my thighs and the skin on the back of my hand enjoying the warmth that the heated Nappa leather seats have to offer, I glance outside of the window and take in the scene.

People wrapped in coats, hats with matching scarves and gloves waddle down the streets like penguins. The amount of people I see shocks me. There shouldn't be this many people on the streets of such a small town in Indiana. Unless...

A shiver does laps around my system as I contemplate the chances that I might have gotten abducted by the same person for a second time. Last time, the odds were not in my favour, I mean I was—

"Are you cold?" The sound of his voice startles me. My eyes snap towards his only to see that they are already on me. The first thought that goes through my mind is: Keep your eyes on the road, Phoenix. Don't go die on me.

Then I quickly realise that it I am way past the point of caring and I could slap myself for doing so. Then I realise even quicker that I am also in the car with him, so if I don't advise him to keep his eyes on the road, it could lead to not only his death but mine too.

Still, the heat of his gaze and the depth of his voice has me falling into a heartbreaking oblivion. My heart cries out a silent plea for his attention to be focused on something else. Not only for the safety of our lives physically, but the safety of my life emotionally.

As I lose myself in his eyes the colour of a desert, I could almost laugh. The sincerity in his voice matches the sincerity of his eyes. But it makes no sense to me. How can someone go from wanting to willingly take the life of someone to loving them?

Truly, it frazzles my brain to even—

"Camilla." I blink. My eyes shift from his own. I blink again. The car isn't moving anymore. I blink once more. His hand is resting on my headrest and the bona fides that are radiating off him are almost tangible.

"Are you cold?" He repeats. I attempt to laugh but it only comes out as something that can only be described as a quiet and breathless wheeze.

"No, Phoenix, I'm not cold." I let out a complete breath, this time, and close my eyes before allowing my head to fall back onto the headrest. "I'm a lot of things," Confused. Whiplashed. Resigned. "but I'm not cold."

Phoenix must have caught onto the double meaning of my statement as he mimics my position, resting his head on his own leather headrest. His eyes squeeze shut and the picture of genuine pain is painted across his features.