Emma.
Every time he uttered that word, it was pure ecstasy. Perhaps I was deranged — was it normal to feel so delighted hearing your name?
It was affirmation that he knew my true identity. Even with his condition, he gravitated to me.
And it was clear how we connected. As we deepened the kiss, amped up the intensity, every inch of our bodies connected and played out in sync.
I held onto him as he had me cornered against the glass panel, sprawled against the portrait he had drawn of me. He had a hand to the back of my head, preventing me from slamming into the wall as we pushed into the frame.
With that said, we weren't all that kind with the touches. I allowed myself to roam his arms. I felt the sides, and next to the chiseled abdomen. He had an impossibly perfect figure, one that I chased with my palms. Every now and then I would touch a sensitive spot, and Nick would respond with a sharp intake of breath.
Emma. There it was again, as he moved his lips away from mine, and then chased my jawline. It went to my temple, and it was my turn to quiver. I was weak in the knees as he brought it down to my neck, tenderly.
I wrapped around him, closer. We were moving at an electrifying speed, but that didn't scare me at all. It was only him, the boy who was the summation of comfort and warmth.
And then suddenly, it ceased. It ached as he tore his lips away from my skin, and I opened my eyes in confusion.
Nick was staring at something in the distance, eyes widened. Something was wrong.
"Nick?" I asked, my voice reduced to a mere croak now.
He tried not to startle me. Nick met my eyes, cupping my cheek gently.
"Emma." It was really hard to listen to him sanely, especially when his eyes were so black. The silver-blue morphed into darkness, a clear sign of how urgent this must be to have interrupted the two of us.
"What?" I whipped my head around, but saw nothing. He definitely looked in the direction of the balcony, but when I looked past the small gap between the curtains, I couldn't see anything. "What did you see?"
Nick reached past me to the bedside drawer, and pulled something out. He pressed a black device to my hands, then brought his lips to my ears and whispered softly. "Don't freak out. There's someone at the balcony."
"What?" I gaped. He had to be joking. However, I knew Nick wasn't one to take jokes this far.
He was dead serious now.
"Stay here. Use this if necessary." He pointed to the device I was holding, before fetching a similar one.
I stared at the thing in my hand. What was it even? It looked like a black solid block, completely unassuming. Until I saw the button.
If it was some sort of weapon, I have never seen before. Perhaps Hestia invented it. Either way, the idea of it escalating to this filled me with disbelief.
Nick started creeping forward, in the direction of the balcony. There was determination in his eyes as he made each move stealthily. I was certain that he definitely had some kind of training apart from regular sports, in order to know how to move like that.
Only I was terrible at listening to instructions. I shifted as quietly as I could to a spot behind him. He cast a glance to the side to observe what I was doing, and so I mouthed,
What? I can't leave you to die alone.
It was just a joke, but suddenly it seemed to have taken on a whole new intensity. I mean, if there was really an intruder —
YOU ARE READING
Misstaken ✓ | #Wattys2019
Teen Fiction*1ST IN WRITERS' CHOICE 2019* Emma can't stand Nick's charms. After all, the heir was a brooding boy who meant trouble. But he also meant easy money - he had lost the ability to recognize faces. All Emma had to do was pretend to be in love with him...
