Nixon

••• Four •••

The last note is hit as I end the song, looking out of the massive window as my legs still shake. Only an hour ago was I brought here by Nixon and threatened not to leave.

Starting yet another song, I only stop abruptly as his shadow looms over me. I stay tense at his body becomes closer, strong hands settling upon my small shoulders. "I take it this is a hobby," he comments, referring to my piano playing as the minutes tick bye. Nodding, I begin the song over again, finding it hard to concentrate as his fingers are upon my body, pushing my limits of concentration.

"What time is it?" I ask, stupid to forget my phone that lays outside of Oliver's house where the weird scene happened.

"One," he whispers, causing me to jump, his lips brushing my ear as my fingers shake. "Are you tired yet?"

Nodding tiredly, I find myself leaning into his touch, wanting more contact as his arms wrap around my body. "I'll need to go back to Ol-

"No."

Once again my body tenses as I'm lightly lifted to my feet, pulled away from the piano as my eye lids turn heavy. "Come on."

I take his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull me side by side with him, one of his hands on the small of my back. Once again I taken to the stairs. "Did I wake you up?" I ask, yawning as I look at the second floor where the house gets even darker. Once on the second floor, we take a sharp left, Nixon leading me down the hall until we come before a massive wooden door.

He pushes open the door, leading me into a pitch black room. I can make out the dark gray walls, two of them consisting of a massive window, dark wooden flooring, and a huge bed in the center with black sheets.

I'm laid down on the bed, my shoes taken off slowly as the covers are pulled over my body. "I have school tomorrow," I mumble, turning onto my stomach as warm hands brush strands of hair out of my face. A soft moan escapes my lips, leaning into the touch upon my face, wishing it would continue.

"And I'll take care of that when we come to that."

My eyes open in the morning to an early sunrise and the smell fresh rain. Propping myself up on my elbows, the silky sheets and duvet slide down to my hips, taking in the room around me. Memories flood back into my mind of the night before, just hours ago, the sight of my two friends as if absent from their bodies. The memories of Nixon Maxwell as he led me upstairs and-

Where is he anyway?

Looking around, I shield my eyes from the light as I search for the man of this house. As I look around, I take in the massive size of the room, the massive bed, leather furniture before a TV and fireplace, and a modern bookshelf next to double doors.

I push onto my feet, stretching my arms up as a yawn escapes my mouth. A clock on the bedside tells me it's nearly seven, warning me I'd better get my ass I school. I open the door, entering the isolated hallway that stretches across the whole upper floor where doors lead to various rooms.
As I come to the stairs, I see the front entrance, my pace picking up as it lays before me. I'd better get home. Mom and dad are going to be beyond pissed.
Just as my hand latches onto the doorknob, I'm turned around, pushed gently against the front door, looking into a persistent pair of dark blue eyes.
"Leaving so soon?"

"I've got school," I reply, my voice weak as he raises an eyebrow.

My throat turns dry as he looks straight into my eyes. "I said I'd take care of that."

"And I need to go. I have a test today," I explain, taking in his attire for the day. Clad in an Italian suit of navy and a black tie, I've got to say his appearance is beyond swoon worthy. The way it fits his muscles, emphasizing the shape they take and how the material tightens up around his arms when he moves his arms in certain ways...oh God.