She woke slowly. Her eyelids peeled open, and her emerald eyes gazed around with a haze. The closet door was open, and the sliver of light shining through the blinds flashed over her, small dust particles floating in the sun rays. She carefully sat up on the closet floor, her old habits consuming her even in the night when she tried to sleep. Her soft hair slid over her shoulders.
There was something delicious in the air. She took a deep inhale, and her eyelids slid shut in pleasure. She moaned at the smell—bacon. She stood and walked out of the room. The carpet in the corridor was soft beneath her feet as she padded down the hall and rubbed her tired eyes, her hair a mess.
She stood at the hallway entrance, pulling at the long sweats pooling at her feet, and watched her host stand over the stove in the kitchen with a small black hand towel thrown over his shoulder, his back to her. He wore a dark grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; on one wrist, a large silver watch. His black hair was brushed back and looked slightly wet. Had he taken a shower earlier? She turned to the room next to her—his room—and sniffed. Inside, she could smell the fresh scent of men's shampoo and cologne lingering in the air. He turned and served eggs onto two plates sitting on the island behind him. His gaze flickered up, and found her watching.
"Good morning," he said. He put the pan back on the stove and pulled the hand cloth from his shoulder, using it to clean off his hand before grabbing the plates and walking them over to the table by the wide, back window-wall. "Hungry?"
She blinked, watching him from afar cautiously, her fingers still nervously picking at the black sweats.
Sebastian set the plates. On each, he had two French toasts, fluffy scrambled eggs, and three large strips of bacon with a small side bowl of juicy grapes. He slanted her a glance. "Its ok," he said reassuringly.
When Sebastian took his seat, she hesitantly walked over and stood at the back of her chair where he plate sat. She leaned over the chair and sniffed twice. Sebastian tried not to show his confusion and curiosity. She pulled her chair out and slid into it, giving the air another sniff. She gazed at Sebastian, and he gave her an encouraging nod.
She grabbed her fork and just as she was about to dive into the fluffy eggs, Sebastian grabbed the plate and slid it away. "But I have questions," he said, and she pouted at him with a look that screamed betrayal.
"If I'm going to help you then you're going to have to tell me some things," he said. She eyed him cautiously. He just wanted to know what he was dealing with, what her story was. That wasn't much, was it? He sat up in his seat and began with the first question. "What's your name?"
She blinked at him silently.
"Look, all you have to do it answer a few questions, and then you get food. That's doesn't really sound like a bad deal, now does it?" He added, "Plus, I'm not a half bad cook also."
Reluctantly, she muttered, "Nadine." It was the first time he heard her voice. It was gentle and smooth, like liquid silk to the ears.
"Nadine," Sebastian murmured back to himself. "Nice to meet you, Nadine," he added and slid her the side bowl of grapes first. She caught them eagerly into her small hands. "I'm Sebastian."
Quickly, she popped a grape into her mouth and chewed.
"Where are you from?" he asked. Her shoulders rose, and fall. "How old are you?" Again, they bounced. Sebastian sighed heavily. "Come on, Nadine," he tried again.
She popped another grape into her mouth and chewed with thought.
"Twenty-one," she finally answered.
"You're not twenty-one," he said matter-of-factly. She didn't look a day over thirteen, or even fifteen.
"Yes I am, want to see my drivers license?" she challenged.
Sebastian pressed his lips together and sighed heavily through his nose. He sat in silence for a moment and thought. "What were you doing in the woods last night?"
She stared out the back wall window at the tall lush, evergreen trees in the distance. The colorful leaves covered the green grass. "Walking," she murmured.
"Do you live nearby?"
She popped another grape into her mouth and bit down slowly as she stared. "No," she murmured again.
He slid the glass of milk next to him across the table to her. She waited a moment before her hand reached out and she drank nearly half the cold, refreshing beverage. Sebastian watched her. He watched her sit back in her seat and plop another plump grape into her mouth. As she chewed, she gazed around the room.
"You live alone?" she asked, her tone gentle.
Sebastian swallowed. "Um, no-no. I live with my girlfriend." Ex-girlfriend, the annoying voice corrected again.
Her brows rose ever-so-gently. "Girlfriend?" she echoed.
"Yes, Sadie."
"Sadie?" she repeated, and Sebastian nodded with a small smile. "Where is she?"
He cleared his throat and grabbed his fork. "Ahem, she's not here," he said and stabbed at his eggs, "she's out of town—visiting family." Why he lied he could never explain, it just came out. She gave him a look, and Sebastian worried she could see right through him.
"So you're alone?" she asked. In a lower voice, she whispered to herself, "like me . . ."
Sebastian felt saddened by this. He slid her the plate, and she dove into the french toast. He watched her cut through it with her fork and knife. Cutting a generous slice and piercing a clump of eggs, she shoveled it into her mouth.
"We should call your parents," Sebastian said out loud when the thought came to him, as he watched her eat. "They must be worried." She shoveled another mouthful and quickly chewed. She grabbed the glass of milk next to her and took a gulp, washing everything down eagerly.
"Do your parents know where you are?" Sebastian asked curiously. Two more slices of french toast and eggs were shoveled into her small mouth. "Do you have parents?" He felt invasive for the asking, but he couldn't help his burning curiosity to know anything about her.
She had tuned him out. He could tell just by the blank look on her face as she scarfed down the breakfast like she hadn't eaten in days.
Sebastian sighed, he had grown tired of trying. If she wanted to play games, he could play too.
"Okay," he suddenly said as he glanced at his watch and looked at the time. "Well, I have to go. I have things to do, errands to run. If you're not gonna tell me anything, then I guess you should be on your way."
Her chews slowed, and he knew he had her.
He stood and took his plate to the sink. Without sparing her a glance, he slid his blazer on. "Your clothes are clean. You're rested and fed—I can drop you off in town if you want?"
She stared at him, her cheeks stuffed with food. The ball was in her court now, and he patiently waited for her next move.
YOU ARE READING
i don't feel safe anymore
Mystery / Thriller𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬; #3 - 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰-𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 ❝Shh, don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you . . . I could never hurt you.❞ WARNING : aberrant behavior, bloody and grisly details, strong sexuality, language, and MAJOR nymphet / dadd...