Sentinel Darling

Chapter V

Two nights of frustration and I still wasn't home. I awoke in a different bed, a smell that I was foreign to, the sun rays not emerging from the shades and over my face.

Spencer was gawking at me from the other side of the room.

"May I help you?" I croaked, sitting up on the bed. The covers fell off my chest and landing bundled up on my thighs.

My spaghetti straps began to fall over my shoulder blades slowly. His eyes would follow them as they sank lower and I ever so often pull them over my shoulders.

"Well?" Spencer's eyes flicker towards mine and in that moment he smiles.

"Good morning to you too, Cordelia." My teeth clenched as his sentence traveled in my ears. It was like nails to a chalkboard, scraping down. It never ended.

"Were you watching me this entire time?" I narrow my eyes at his movements. He walks to the edge of the bed and takes a seat.

My feet automatically pull into my chest and I hug them to me. I sit my chin on my knees and frantically wait for his next move.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"No." I mutter. My stomach disagrees with my spoken answer.

"Your stomach says differently."

I pull my strap up over my shoulder and I shrug. "So."

"Okay then." He hits both his thighs with his hands and stands up.

"So I've sent some of my--" He pauses before reluctantly continuing. "Friends to investigate your home,"

Jeez, it's not that serious.

"And unfortunately, we found nothing."

"You can't rampage my house whenever you please."

"If it's for your safety then-"

"Where is the warrant, where the hell are the legal documents that allow you and your friends into my home?"

"If you only knew." Spencer's chuckle leave the room and lingers in the hall.

"I am not done with you, Spencer!" Shuffling the sheets off my legs, I hop of the bed and scurry to the door. Before I step over the threshold I'm halted.

"Aren't you?" He was suddenly in front of me. A breeze hit my face as I was stopped by him.

That was fast.

"No," He didn't as much make a move over the threshold at my answer. I don't know why I even felt intimidated.

"What is the problem, Cordelia?"

Enough with the scraping, I yell in my head.

"You're my problem,"

"Is that so?" Spencer stepped over the threshold, the tips of both our feet parallel from one another. His fingers brushed along my arm to pull up my strap. I gulped as his fingers rounded on the scab on my neck. The scab I've been picking and scratching for the past couple days.

"Yes, it is. I can not phantom enough how frustrated I am, because of you,"

"Frustrated how?" There was no way you could miss the coquettish tone in his sentence.

"You are-"

"Incredible. I know." His finger slipped from my shoulder and he was on his way into the kitchen.

The dull kitchen only looked different because there were plates settled on the stove and actual food in them. Other than that everything was in place and in order.