Slave >> Bellamy Blake

Three

I step to the side, away from the desk. "I'm sorry." I say and look down. I can feel tension between us both and he doesn't even know my name.

"Why are you sorry?" He asks. His eyes watched my every move, making my heart quicken. He knows exactly what I was doing--he's just playing games now; trying to make me squirm beneath his watchful stare.

"Just..." I began, then stopped myself from rambling. "Nothing."

I can see a small smirk appear on his lips--a smirk of arrogance. He has me underneath his strange spell now and he knows it. "Are you hungry?" he asks, licking his lips after he spoke.

"No," I lie, then mentally smack myself--I'm starving. "I'm fine."

Then, in one swift motion, his skin is close to mine as he reaches across me to the large platter of food on the glass table. I could feel his warm breath fanning out against my neck. But it was only for a few short seconds, and the sudden warmth of his closeness was gone as fast as it occurred. I let out a breath of air that I didn't even know I was holding in. Why am I freaking out over such a small gesture?

"Well," he began with a sigh, "now that you've read my journal, we might as well be best friends, huh?" He rose an eyebrow at me with arms crossed, as though he were scolding me.