Only Time Will Tell | ✔

CHAPTER 11

JOSEPH.

Taking out the spaghetti box I couldn't but think about today. It was surprisingly good, I expected a fight or two with her or an attempt to escape but she tagged along closely and we had fun. I wanted to regret taking her out but I couldn't I genuinely enjoyed every moment. It's been ages since I took a woman out especially a shopping trip. She was comfortable around me now, the way she smiles, the way her eyes lit up when she sees something interesting, the way she gasps when I make a rude comment to someone or when I call her princess; her cheeks would get mad red and she'd look adorable with an innocent gleam. I watched her all day, I observed her every move and every reaction. I was hopelessly entertained.

My mind was somewhere else as I poured the stiff noodle sticks into the angry bubbly water. The images of when she first came flashed into my mind, she was scared, I couldn't still recall how her trembling figure felt when I picked her up. How she stammered at every word, flinching whenever I raised my hand. I didn't want to recall that again, I wanted her to feel herself again and have a somewhat normal life. I have to make her feel as comfortable as I can, maybe then she'd trust me enough and let me know who gave her to Victor.

Talia stepped into the kitchen with a fresh aroma following her, dressed in an oversized sweater and skinny leggings, my eyes dangerously trailed at her long slim legs. Her now dark hair and fresh pink cheeks made her look younger than she is, her hazel eyes shining with delight and I found myself smiling back. Her unfeigned, pukka smile is contagious. How can small deeds make her feel overjoyed? My stormy eyes hindered at her form before I dawdled my eyes at her captivated face.

"I, w-where will I stay today?" she asked breaking the silence, and now my orbs moved downwards to watch her plump lips move. I hardly swallowed the gulp forming in my throat, moving my gaze to her eyes before quickly turning around busying my self to stir the now soft dough of spaghetti.

"In my room amour," I said huskily. My voice breaking at the end and I cleared my voice again pouring the ready sauce in a medium pan.

"They left, but stay in my room in case they came by again," I added when I saw her discomfort and it disturbs me that she still fears to be around me. I'd be elated if it was someone else, knowing that others fear me, knowing that they know me for being reckless and ruthless exhilarates me, drives me to the edge of satisfaction. Not her. Anyone but her.

"Okay." she nodded, soundlessly picking up the bags. Seeing her disappear into the maze of corridors I turned off the gas picking the pot to drain the socking noodles. I placed two plates as I checked my phone and sent a quick text to Mark, letting him know that today's trip was a success and that we're back home safe.

"Talia, dinner is ready," I yelled calling her to the hot ready pasta. I couldn't but chuckle when I heard her humming and sniffing the air as she entered. Her eyes searching the kitchen and laying on the two plates by the far corner. She swallowed, her legs taking her there immediately and she smiled looking at the filled plates.

"Cheese?" I asked holding the bar of freshly bought parmesan. She nodded holding her fork ready to strike at any minute and another soft chuckle escaped at her childish behavior. A blush coated her skin as she smiled embarrassed and I didn't wanna make her uncomfortable so sitting across her I gestured for her to start and I didn't have to repeat.

"God!" she breathlessly whispered, the fork sojourned in between her lips until she took another bite and so.

"You liked it?"

"I loved it," she said taking another full fork. I smiled taking a bite myself but my eyes trailing on her, examining her, glancing at her. Only her.