v. his touch.
ALASTOR
. . .
two weeks later.
Her eyes were the warmest of hazels, the purest specks of green and brighter, still unknown colors. The ones in her eyes shouldn't be named something as mundane as yellow, or brown. No, her orbs of mystery should have a name as grand and eye-catching as zabavan, the Croatian word for beguiling. Enchanting.
Her touch, was another thing. No, not warm, but scorching hot. The sting of the sirens. Her hands, though small, could hold oceans of thoughts. Oceans of feelings, oceans of heart throb, and oceans of plans I couldn't bear to wait any longer to hear.
"Alastor, what are you thinking of?" Her soft, gossamer voice rose from the top bunch, which she was beyond ecstatic to have. My hand, holding the piece of charcoal I used to subconsciously used to craft her face onto the table, stopped its movements and I dropped it. I quickly tossed a journal over the drawing and turned to stare into her large, curious eyes.
"Nothing, angel. Did you need something?"
A small, subtle blush coats her cheeks and she pushes down a smile. "N-No, I was just wondering is all..."
I let a smile form, which probably made me seem like a serial killer. "Worry you not, beautiful."
She lifts herself from her sitting position and lets her legs fall over the edge of the bed, all the while looking intently at me. "When do we get to go outside? Or at least go out of the cell..."
"Soon angel, we have yard time within the hour."
Her eyebrows furrow, "How are you so sure?" Her confusion reminds me of the fact that there are no clocks within our cells nor many more than a handful within the halls of the entire prison. My knowledge of the time is something I cannot describe or explain, but rather a feeling inside me. A thought in my head.
"I just do, love."
"But how?"
I sigh, a small smile on my face, "Another story for another time. I promise."
She pouts, her arms crossed and her bottom lip puckered slightly. "Fine. Keep your secrets. They're of no use to me." With that, she falls onto her back with exaggeration and turns away from me, facing the wall.
I chuckle and stand to my feel, taking just one step until my chest is met with the metal of the bed. I lift my hand, tracing the outline of her exposed arm. Shivers run up her skin, making her inhale sharply but quietly. "Stop touching me," She grumbles, pulling her arm away from me and under the blanket.
I let out a laugh, a bizarre sound I had yet to hear until now, and use the hand once grazing her arm to pull her toward me, her back against my chest. I dip my head to fall between her neck and shoulder, suddenly feeling affectionate. Well, that isn't quite true, I've felt the affection I feel for her now since she was first put into this cell.
The protectiveness that seems to loom over me when we are around the other inmates, the pull I feel to touch her constantly, the way my mind has warped and transitioned to fill with thoughts of her lips and her skin and her voice. I had felt affectionate, at the very least, for a while.
She giggles, the small noises filling my heart with completion. Her head turns and forces me to push away. I smile and retract, admiring her glowing eyes and giddy smile, her recent grudge long forgotten.
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THE DEVIL || Castle Rock Original Plot Line
RomanceBEFORE YOU READ!! this is an ORIGINAL plot, it will have differences in not only character but storyline. ••• The Devil. The boy who was found in a cage. But she knows him by another name. Alastor. "The Executioner." He promised to never let himse...