Ryan
As consciousness returned, I found myself on the same bed where Aria had been sleeping. It was a surprising discovery, and a twinge of unease crept in, even though I knew it wasn't a significant issue.
In an attempt to unravel the mystery of my relocation from the cold floor to the bed, I mentally slapped myself, hoping to collect my scattered thoughts. The last clear memory I had was of being on the floor.
Observing my surroundings, I noticed that my hands had been carefully bandaged, my foot tended to, and an overall improvement in my well-being. Gratitude welled up for Luke's efforts, though I couldn't help but wonder if he could have chosen a more appropriate bed than placing me next to Aria.
Despite this thought, I decided to return to the bed, my mind grappling with the situation. Even though I lacked complete clarity, I positioned myself at a considerate distance from Aria, silently acknowledging my preference for a more discreet arrangement.
I intentionally refrained from getting too close to her, even though I was tempted to embrace and kiss her. Despite my momentary desires, I resisted because my feelings for her are profound, and I envision a lasting connection. I cherish her and wouldn't act in a way she disapproves of, especially considering she's unaware while sleeping.
In that challenging moment, I grappled with conflicting emotions, but I maintained clarity on my actions. As I turned to face her, she caught me off guard by silently urging me to remain composed with a touch on my mouth.
Surprisingly, she calmly admitted, "Well, I remember everything," leaving me puzzled. Despite my attempts to comprehend, her enigmatic expressions revealed nothing. As I started to speak, she silenced me with a gentle gesture.
Amused, she remarked, "You look cute, though." I seized her hand, lowering it from my mouth, and inquired, "Remember what?" as I gently kissed the back of her hand, eager for an explanation.
"Why did you call me cute?" I inquired, searching for any hint of a reaction in her expressions, but her face revealed nothing.
She rose, pulling me along as I held her hand. "I believe you remember more than you let on," she remarked casually, "and you do look cute, hence the comment."
Abruptly, she forcefully withdrew her hand from mine, without sparing me a glance, and exited the room, slamming the door. The noise reverberated, prompting me to cover my ears.
Undoubtedly, women are enigmatic. Their minds navigate vast deviations, undergoing sudden emotional shifts and unpredictable changes in thought processes. Certainties and clarity seem to shift rapidly.
In one moment, they express love, and in the next, they display disdain. It's perplexing how they find stability amidst such fluctuations, whether in relationships or other aspects of life.
Take Aria as a recent example – she found my face cute, only to change her mind seconds later, slamming the door on that very same "cute" face.
Deep in contemplation, I found myself grappling with the intricacies of my thoughts, wondering if a conclusive understanding would ever surface. Clinging to optimism, I decided to vocalize my turmoil, calling out for Luke with an intensity that echoed my internal struggle.
As the echoes of my voice reverberated, Aria appeared on the scene, her raised brows questioning the necessity of my loud outburst. Unperturbed by her interruption, I pressed on, repeating Luke's name with urgency. Aria, however, calmly informed me of Luke's absence, ready to retreat from the scene.
Refusing to let the conversation dwindle, I insisted that Aria's presence was sufficient, a statement met with incredulity in her gaze. Undeterred, I swiftly shifted the focus to my immediate need for water, emphasizing my inability to manage on my own in my current state.
Aria, reluctantly agreeing to assist, momentarily disappeared only to return promptly with a glass of water. Seated beside me on the bed, she extended the glass, but my injured hand prompted a slight pout. Responding to my expression, Aria rolled her eyes and acquiesced to my unspoken request for assistance.
Her care took on a nurturing quality as she not only helped me drink but also wiped my face with her thumb, inadvertently creating a moment that felt oddly tender. In an impulsive display of gratitude, I found myself unknowingly grabbing her hand and planting a kiss on it.
However, the mood shifted as she pulled her hand away, revealing that Luke had called her. Attempting to regain the moment, I reached for her hand again, intending to repeat the gesture. Instead, she gently redirected the interaction by interlocking our fingers, her touch bringing forth a sense of tranquility and warmth, akin to an unexpected embrace of angelic feelings.
"He mentioned that he'd return home soon, accompanied by Shayra and Farkle," she conveyed wearily, her face carrying the weight of exhaustion and her expressions seemingly lifeless.
Nearby, a glass of water awaited, and I playfully dipped my fingers into it, sprinkling droplets on her fatigued face. A momentary half-smile graced her lips, but it swiftly transformed into an unfamiliar emotion.
Rising abruptly, she unleashed her fury, questioning my sanity. Despite her shaking voice and unstable posture, my response was not anger but a gaze filled with profound love, capable of softening even the stoniest of hearts.
"I apologize," I uttered, though aware of my innocence. My remorse stemmed from the helplessness of witnessing her distress while being unable to alleviate it.
Silence lingered, and I sensed her discomfort and agitation. Although navigating the ordeal of the kidnapping was undoubtedly taxing, deciphering the specific source of her unease became the paramount question.
Descending from the bed, I approached her, each step a struggle. Unnoticed by her, I called her name, halting mere inches away. A gasp escaped her lips as I gently cupped her face, kissing her forehead. As her eyes met mine, I reassured her, "I am with you. Always."
In that tender moment, her emotions overflowed, and she burst into tears, clinging to me with an intensity that spoke volumes of the solace she sought in our embrace.
I gently probed, "What troubles you, Aria?" Attempting to loosen her grip on my shirt, I sensed her nails digging into my back, causing a subtle yet distinct discomfort.
Granting her a moment of solitude, I eventually pulled away, my tone demanding, "Look at me." Despite stealing furtive glances, she evaded direct eye contact, signaling a desire to withdraw. Without hesitation, I recaptured her hand, drawing her into my embrace with an audible thud. My eyes, likely reflecting a tinge of red, carried an undertone of anger as I asserted, "You can't leave like this."
Her unexpected words reverberated, "I can't live like this; it would probably be a better alternative for me."
Perplexed, I delved into the intricacies of her distress, grappling with the peculiarity of her behavior. Before I could formulate a response, a cheerful voice cut through the tension, "Aria? Ryan. I am here." It was Shayra, and I inferred Luke's presence.
"Where is Aria?" Farkle's voice added to the chorus, a familiar refrain in his perpetual pursuit of Aria.
A collective sigh escaped me – a mixture of relief at the arrival of familiar faces and a realization of the complexity underlying Aria's turmoil.
Phew!
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Short one.
The next one will be adventurous, I think 😉
Hope you will all enjoy.
Happy reading! 💕
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Pen Of Destiny
Romance"The Pen That Started It All" In a world where chance encounters can change the course of our lives, sometimes it all begins with something as simple as a pen. Aria Reeves, a compassionate and determined teenager, finds herself crossing paths with R...
