Love Sucks

Nuptials - Chap. Thirty

Looking at Nathaniel, Abigail could clearly witness his beauty. His eyes were closed, while soft coils of blond hair curled around those high cheekbones, although in defiance, thin, unearthly shadows extended down the planes of his face; Nate looked terrible in an unbelievably beautiful way.

She wanted to remove the dark circles smudged under his lower lashes; wanted to make the infirm tint to his skin flush with fevered passion (another impossibility, considering that Nate didn't blush).

Nathaniel was completely still, his muscles and limbs rigid and stiff as he lay on the bed. But even while his eyes were closed, Abbi knew he was awake.

Experimentally, she leaned forward, the upper half of her torso resting on his rocky shoulder. Her lips were at his ear, teasing him with a chiming call. "Nate," Abbi cooed, a half-smile kicking the corners of her mouth up.

At the soft sound of her voice, Nathaniel suddenly flinched, and when she excitedly looked toward those opening eyes, it took all the convincing Abbi could muster to acknowledge that his eyes were in fact a deadly crimson.

She shied away from him, expression frightful and eyelids fluttering. When her shock settled, and Abbi focused back on the boy beside her, she looked back up and met a pair of icy blue eyes.

Nate raised one eyebrow and said, "What?"

Abbi flinched; his curt tone caught her by surprise. The faint frustration simmering in those eyes made her unjustly angry. She didn't do anything wrong, and the offhand way he responded to her made Abbi's stomach lurch.

"Nothing," she grumbled, sliding herself completely off the bed and flicking a strand of hair back. "Just ... don't forget your best friend is getting married today."

Abbi, still obviously irritated, tried not to laugh as Nathaniel sprung up with a loud curse and scrambled from the sheets. She watched him smugly, putting one hand on her hip.

"By today, Nathaniel," Her voice was slow, as if she was speaking to an ignorant child, "I meant three o'clock ... in the afternoon; it's nine right now."

He paused, sparing her an embarrassed glance before continuing to rush about the room like nothing was wrong. "So," Nate said pointedly - slightly jutting out his lip. "It just might take me six hours to finish perfecting my hair."

With that, Nathaniel slid past her - making sure their bodies didn't touch at all, which Abigail noticed quite clearly, then exited the bedroom.

Abigail was positive something was wrong. In all of the days she'd spent with Nathaniel, he'd never once been rude. But at the moment, all Abbi wanted to do was smack his face and storm out of the room.

Still standing in the doorway, Abbi kept her self-opposing mind at bay by trying to gather her wit about her and start getting ready. Even if Nathaniel had been joking about his hair, she might seriously need some time, considering the black mound of tangles on top her head.

Maybe that was the reason he was so exasperated; her hair was that scary.

Abbi padded further into the room, inspecting the tousled bed covers and rain laden sky. As she moved to the closet, the abundance of silence slowly started gnawing at her. Carefully pulling a golden beaded dress from the rack, Abbi bit her lip, still trying to decipher Nate's mood.

With her head deeply thrust in thought, Abbi changed into a slip, unzipped the back and slid into the form-fitting gown with ease, frowning when the sequins scraped her skin. She moved in a daze, circling the room, sometimes forgetting why she went one direction or the other.

Abbi peeked her head out the door; the hallway -- as it normally seemed to be -- was dim, and the bathroom, connected to the hallway, was also dark (from what she could tell).