[Resident Evil Series #2]
[Piers Nivans X OC] Abused, abandoned, abducted, alone. Cheryl Hansenʼs life revolved around terrorism. But when she reunites with her childhood friend who reminds her of home, he taught her again what she learned from him...
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HE'S THE VERY FIRST guy who had called me beautiful, and I wasn't used to it. Was it supposed to make me feel like my heart's going to burst out of my chest? Because it certainly feels like it. Just the mere memory of his smile, touch and stare is enough for my body to tremble and I couldn't think of anything else but him. That's the impact he has on me, it's as if my everything doesn't belong to me anymore.
The car ride feels like it's going to take forever when only an hour has passed. The BSAA event is going to be held at a private beach resort and each second that we were coming close, the more my anxiety level is nearing its peak. I couldn't help the subtle tremble of my hands at the thought of a crowd gawking at me, as I remembered the way those scientists looked at me as if I was the center of attention. I glanced at the GPS on Piers' phone and I figured that we were only less than ten minutes away. Then my eyes shifted at him looking straight at the road but it felt as if his mind was wandering elsewhere. I wonder what was bothering him?
"Are you alright?" He asked me before I could, still focused on the road. His attention made me look away.
"Yeah, just a little bit nervous." I smiled, trying to show him that I'm not that bothered when deep inside I'm already freaked out. Nervous is even an understatement! I bit my bottom lip, and looked away when I felt him stare at me again. My heartbeat thumped twice as fast when the resort was already in plain eyeshot. Piers was already finding a place to park, "Scheiße. Ich muss wirklich chillen..." I whispered to myself, sighing deeply.
"You don't look a little bit nervous though," There he goes again with that deep stare that seeps through the soul. You're not helping, Piers! You're just making me even more nervous. But instead of telling that to him, I just pouted at him. "Entspann dich, Cheryl. You look constipated." He chuckled.
I couldn't help but crack a smile at his failed attempt to speak German, "You are terrible at German."
He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well, but you get my point."
I heaved out a deep sigh then looked at my still trembling intertwined hands, "Do you think I'll do good?"
I was surprised to see his warm big hand envelop mine and I looked up to see him looking at me intently, smiling encouragingly. "You'll do great."
I swallowed when I felt him give my hand a comforting squeeze before he let go. I felt a little disappointed when he did so, because it really felt like I could do anything as long as he holds my hand. I shook the thought away then glanced at the party through the window, and then I sighed again.
"You can take your time. No pressure, we can be here as long as you want until you're ready." He reassured me, and I gave him a small smile. Whenever somebody says "no pressure," most times it added more pressure. And I'm definitely feeling the pressure right now. I looked at the venue again, chewing on my lower lip. I look back at him again observing my every move. I felt the blood rushing up to my cheeks at his intense stare, and there I realized that dealing with the crowd is much bearable than having to endure his stare that seeps right through my soul. I feel like I'm going to run a fever if I stay here any longer.
