✔ | PAINTED IN CRIMSON | T. SHARPE

NINETEEN | MONSTROUS

 ❝ Playing with the thought of some birds,
flying where we'd owe your love,
placing it in my whole world,
let's pretend I am all you know. ❞

─────── 

NINETEEN | MONSTROUS

Suddenly I was walking down the stairs, sliding my hand on the banister, thinking how had I gotten there. The house was quiet and some kind of old music was the only thing that disturbed that silence. The wallpaper was neat and the stairs clean, the ceiling -where the last time I checked was a hole- was adorned with a huge and beautiful chandelier. I stared at it for a minute, both, admiring and wondering what was going on. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement at the bottom of the stairs, I looked down and my eyes met with Sir Thomas Sharpe himself.

His hair perfectly combed, a smile on his face and dressed in what I thought it was his best clothes. He stood there elegant and always smiling. I went downstairs and when I was closer to him, he offered his hand, I took it and felt his warm skin, I frowned and just observed him. He bent over, kissing my hand. Brushing his warm lips on my nuckles. He straightened himself and dedicated me another smile.

His lips were pink and his cheeks had this soft blush on them, his hand hadn't left mine and I could feel them sweat. Where was the cold feeling of his skin against mine? I jerked away.

"What's going on?" I asked, "Nicholas . . ." I said softly, "Nicholas?!" I asked and then turned to see Thomas, "Where's he?"

"He's not here, Adeline." He stated, looking into my eyes, I shook my head, comprehending.

"I'm dead," I began, Thomas didn't even flinch, "oh God, no . . . noo, it can't be, I can't be dead, can I?" My voice broke.

"Adeline-"

"And it's all your fault!" I walked towards him and began to hit my fists against his chest, crying and whimpering, "You lied to me! You said you'd always protect me, you promised!" I sobbed, collapsing on his chest, "You lied to me! And now I'm dead and Lucille is gonna kill Nicholas and that'll be my fault for listening to you and bringing him here!" He grabbed my hands when I began to bang on his chest again.

"You're not dead, not yet." I scoffed.

"Yet? Wow, that really gives me hope-"

"Stay." He chimed.

"What?"

"Stay, please? Here. . ." I stared at him, "I- I don't want to be alone here," he shook his head and I saw the fear in his eyes, "Please . . ."

"What are you talking about?" He got closer.

"Adeline," he shook his head, "don't you understand? We can be together!" He said softly, tenderly squeezing my hands. His eyes flared with hope and I felt a pressure on my chest and a lump growing in my throat.

"No . . . no we cannot be together, Thomas," my voice barely a whisper and tears forming in my eyes. He took a step back and looked into my eyes.

"You love him," he said under his breath, a hint of sadness and bitterness in his voice. I took several steps back, trying to get away from him.

"Stay away," I warned, he didn't listen. I saw tears forming in his eyes, he looked at me like I had betrayed him or something, I'm not sure what it was, rage, sadness or disappointment in his eyes.

"I was there when nobody was for you, Adeline . . ." He said in a deep voice.

"Thomas, you're scaring me." I gushed out and he shook his head.