Casino Royale : Vesper Lynd

Chapter 8

James and I rest on the ground for another hour or more before we decide to visit a castle not far from where we are. I remember his smile as we dance, the tense arms on my waist, as if he were scared of breaking me. I overthink what we spoke about, particularly about me having this effect on him, the one that turns him into something he hasn't been for a good twenty years or so. I know I am beautiful, many people tell me so, even the ones whom I despise. It's not that I am vain or I think of myself greatly, but I have been exposed to many people telling me the same thing and I have grown used to it. I was envied as a child for my eyes and hair, envied in secondary school particularly for my looks and brain, and envied in university for my skills. It never ends.

But out of all of these things people envy me of, I make the infamous agent, James Bond, wake up from his coma of a childhood and bring back some pleasant memories, or rather create new ones, where he can be careless, foolish, and the person leading him to this nature is no one else but me. No one else sees him in such a state except for me.

I remember what Le Chiffre said about Yusef. They have him and they will torture him or worse yet, kill him, if I do not cooperate. At this point, I don't feel the connection I had with him; I only feel the one James is creating between us, an electric shock spreading thousands of volts each time we make contact, be it verbally, physically, or even looks. I don't know what game he is playing but I know that he is not trying to lure me into his bed just like so. I feel a deeper meaning, a true connection, maybe even a fascination. I'll never forget his electric eyes seeing me in the purple gown when I walked into the casino. Most of all, I'll never forget his act of kindness in the shower, where he took the blood off my hands. But out of all of them, I'll never forget that stifled sob when he carried me to my room from the shower. I never knew how he could be so sensitive, not until now.

"What are you thinking of?" he asks me as we are still on the ground, eyes closed, next to each other.

"Someone." I reply truthfully.

"Is it me?" he asks and I can hear the smirk in his tone.

"I don't know." I answer.

"No, it has to be me. Admit it, you enjoy my company." he chuckles.

"Why wouldn't I enjoy your company, James?" I ask him in return.

"Because I am a, I quote, arrogant and cold-hearted bastard with a perfectly formed arse." he says and I can sense him smile through his words.

"Your vivid memory has surprised me here." I say as I recognize my words spoken.

"Your description of me might have been one of the most accurate ones. M would use this one every day if she could. But I am not cold-hearted though." he says.

"And why not?" I ask him, "You have a massive ego, James. I wonder how many people you've hurt." I say.

"I might act cold-hearted but only ninety-five percent of the time I am. The other five are locked up." he says.

"Only ninety-five percent? Wow, you have surprised me, I thought rather around ninety-eight or nine." I reply as I grin.

"And you call yourself a sweet one?" he asks me.

"Somehow you seem to like me, James so I would go as far as calling myself kind or approachable." I reply.

"Or more than that." I hear him say to himself under his breath.

"What was that?" I ask him.

"Nothing. Just reminded myself of something." he mutters.

"Like what? That you take interest in me?" I ask him as I get up from the blanket. I am not fast enough though because he manages to grab my hand.