A Shade Darker ✔️

{Chapter Forty Eight}

Accusations

August 22nd, 2017

Ashley

I must've stood at the face of the door for half an hour before finally drawing in a deep breath and placing my hand on the knob. But I didn't turn it. I could still feel the incoming tears that I had though I had all but gotten rid of when I had been crying silently in the hallway.

I put an end to the tears finally and the knob turned it my hand, though not from my own movements. These were on the other side of the door as the man inside begged to be let out.

The door opens as he pulls it from my weightless grasp and now we're face to face. Only it's as if I'm a ghost, or not here at all. He stalks past me with his chin up, towards the kitchen in search of food, I supposed.

I'll do it when he comes back, I tell myself. Making a plan to stop him and say...something. Anything to get him to look at me, to see me and listen with open ears.

With a tray in his hand, he makes his way back, eyes on the food and steps clearly marked to keep out of my way.

My mouth opens to say something, my hand moving to touch him, but he never delays, not even for a second. His eyes never flinch my direction. Once again I witness the door being slammed in my face and as if on cue, the thunder echoing above head.

Light rain begins hitting the Windows and at last, I turn the knob myself and stride in with confidence.

At least I do until his eyes meet the strides and I slowly begin sinking again into my normal gate.

The food is steaming, it's smells beckoning me to the bed where he laid silently chewing on a piece of chicken he had pulled from the bone.

And on the tray next to it, a clear glass filled with a red, thick liquid. I grimaced away from the "drink" and swallowed roughly. Usually he had tried to hide the times when he sought to drink blood, at least to keep it away from my eyes. But now he did it openly, as if to drive me away further.

My stomach growled and his ears perked up, letting me know he could hear the low rumble. Yet, he made no move to offer his breakfast to me. Not as he usually would.

I take a seat in the large reading chair stuck in the corner and he eyes me cautiously as he still picks at meat and continues shoving pieces into his mouth.

"Are you satisfied yet? With yourself, I mean?" My question catches him off guard as he raises his head more to include me.

"Satisfied?" He motions a hand out to his surroundings "And with what, I ask?"

"Your own fucking attitude, apparently" His jaw tenses at my language and I know I've gotten him squared away.

He expected me to come in and apologize to him, to curl up next to him like a damsel and beg him to forgive me for being so careless with my words. But I did no wrong, and I wasn't a damsel. It seemed he was out of luck.

"You'll not speak to me that way, or you'll find another person to accompany you to bed" I raise an eyebrow, chuckling with a hurt heart.

"Oh? And accusations now, is it? Sorry, but my ego is much less than yours and frankly, get over yourself. So I made a mistake, but you took a misunderstanding. And now you tell me to go sleep with someone else? Mr. I used to fuck a different girl every night" Again, my language takes him back, but he rolled his eyes at my comments, seeming unaffected.

"You were not a virgin either when I first took you to my bed. You have no right to accuse me of anything" I stick my chin up and cross my arms.

I was done with the game, I wanted answers.