Murdering Midnight (Previously: Meet Me At Midnight) (Fairy Twisted Tale I)

chapter twenty - My Castle

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"I met you in the dark. You lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough."

- James Arthur

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"It's not that far from where you're going to follow your classes, darling," he said as he opened the front door for me, "Ladies first."

I slowly put my foot in front of the other and repeated it.

An arm -his arm- snaked around my waist and pulled me close. He probably thought it was a romantic gesture, but I despised it. I despised his touch. Him in general.

"You like what you see, my queen?"

As much as I hated to admit it, I actually did. It was a wonderful house with accents of chrome and dashes of blue.

I nodded.

"Me too," he said.

I could feel his hot breath on my neck and his eyes on my face.

"I'll bring you to our room. After all, you just landed at midnight and you must be tired."

"Can I sleep in another room?" I asked.

I knew it was a lost case but I wanted to voice out that thought.

He pulled me even closer and turned me around. His eyes were looking into mine to find something. He must have found it or maybe not, because he started speaking.

"Darling, if you are scared that I won't like you anymore, you don't have to be. If it is even possible, I like- love you even more. My princess, every artist would be thrilled to capture your beauty whether it is on a canvas or on a Polaroid. Now that problem is cleared, I'll bring you to our room so you can go to bed."

"I want to sleep alone," I whispered.

He must have caught onto what I said, because he grabbed the sides of my face between his hands and stared into my eyes.

"I love you, Scarlet. What I did in Paris, wasn't right. I was angry; furious because you didn't love me. I wasn't thinking straight and I regret what I did to you every second that I breathe. But my heart belongs to you and I'll make sure I'll win yours the fair way."

I almost told him to shove his love where the sun doesn't shine, but I bit my tongue. I didn't want a repetition of what happened in France. Not again. Not ever.