ADAM'S CURE

Two | Meeting

Natalia's POV

I stepped back and glanced about the gallery. There was only the two of us and I felt a chill worked its way from my head to foot.

"Cynicism can ward off danger,"

I observed his shoulders tensed.

"Do you sense danger, Miss Miller?" He asked directly.

I walked further away, near the door for better access of the exit in case this man harm me in any way.

He was a stranger and by the mysteriously dark pair of green eyes looking straight to me, I could see more. 

"A little,"

"Then maybe you haven't met many men,"

"Few is enough to judge men in general, I don't need to meet all of them,"

Cynical, yes. Because in the past week, I was raped twice. I never saw the man, the lights were off when I felt him eased his way into me, he pounded hard and quick, and his hands roughly touched every each of my body

I felt ashamed and hurt and distressed at how easily I lost my innocence to a man I never laid my eyes on. I was violated!

After the incidents, I began having nightmares and I noticed the almost unrealistic fear I felt toward any man that tried to come close. I became overly dramatic and depression almost got the better of me.

I already reported incident to the police but I couldn't provide sufficient information about my violator that they couldn't find a lead. And up until now, after a week, still no news about the criminal.

The incidents caused me to become overly fearful at the sight of men. Even now, I could hardly steady my shaking fingers so I just hid them away behind me.

The man turned and moved on to the next art.

"You should learn the art of trust. Why do I feel like you had a bad experience with men,"

"I had,"

My eyes strayed at the huge plain of his back, down to the strong pair of legs underneath his trousers. His hands clasped behind him that made him appear austere and formal. His lips were permanently set in a grim line. The moment he entered my gallery until now, I never saw him smile.

"You're a fan you say? I doubt it. I'm not yet at the peak of fame to receive such an attention from a man like you,"

He walked around the gallery and inspected each painting, his back on me. I never left the spot near the entrance. When he returned to me, I folded my arms over my chest in a defensive manner.

"Found something you want?" I asked him.

The man stared at me and the effect was more primal than fear. Immediately, I felt something weird inside my stomach. Heat pooled down from my belly down in between my legs. The hairs on my nape stood and my breathing became labored. Those eyes. I couldn't explain it.

His eyes strayed further down my mouth and I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling thirsty. I moistened my lips and stared back at him. What's happening to me? I promised not to get near any man!

"Y-yes," He breathed. "I think I found it,"

"Well, which one?" I asked, although I had a feeling he wasn't speaking of the painting.

"You,"

I was right and I was breathless as I replied. "I'm not for sale,"

He stepped closer, so close that I smelled his breath as he spoke and drank in the whiff of his manly scent. I backed. He lifted his right hand and pressed his palm against the concrete wall.