Detached

CHAPTER 30

*RIYANSH'S POINT OF VIEW*

     After I’d eaten dinner with the other agents and the other staff they had at the house, I’d packed up my own clothes before she finally knocked on my door signalling she was finished eating with her parents. As I lay on her bed with my arm folded behind my head, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. She was just so incredible. I genuinely didn’t understand how there could be such a perfect creature like her in the world, and yet all those terrible things had happened to her.

My eyes were glued to her as she bent over, folding up her clothes. I could barely suppress my moan of desire for her. She obviously had no idea the effect she had on me, and I was pretty grateful of that fact. Clearly she needed a friend right now, so that was what I was planning on being for her. I’d do whatever it took to make her happy, even if this assignment ended up killing me. It was going to be incredibly hard on me to be so close, yet be so far away at the same time, but I could cope with it.

She turned and caught me looking straight at her, so I quickly flicked my eyes onto something else, knowing she was going to bitch me out about it. “You want to help me instead of just watching?” she teased, tossing a rucksack at me.

I laughed in relief. At least she didn’t realise I was perving on her. Pushing myself up from the bed, I turned to her art materials that she had piled on her dresser and started putting it into the bag. When I got to her sketchpad, I wanted so badly to look at it, but I didn’t know if she would want me to.

“Can I look through your drawings?” I asked hopefully.

She winced uncomfortably. “Um, okay. Some of them are a little… harsh.”

Harsh. What is that supposed to mean? I sat down on the chair and started flipping through the pad. My mouth dropped open in awe as I looked at her drawings. They were incredible: the lake, the house, a tree, a sunset, one of her mom. I could tell which ones she called harsh. They were actually quite disturbing; blood, death, knives and guns. The same man was drawn over and over, looking menacing and angry. I recognised him from the photo in her file, this was James Smith.

“These are really great. What do you want to do when you finish college?” I asked, pushing the book into the bag.

“Well, I always wanted to be a graphic designer, but I’m not sure that’ll happen now. I’ll just be happy if I can graduate and finish my course,” she replied, looking a little sheepish.

I could feel my anger simmering just below the surface again. Smith had taken everything away from her. She just needed to get her confidence in people back though, that’s all, I could help her with that. I’d do whatever it took to get her life back on track again.

“Well, don’t give up on your dream, Meera. I’ll help you,” I promised, looking at her beautiful face.

She laughed quietly, and the sound made my heart beat faster. “You sound like Ankush. He used to say things like that all the time.”

I decided to take that as a compliment. Ankush sounded like a good guy from what I’d heard, and he was a damn lucky one too to have her love him so much. “Smart guy,” I commented, grinning.

I turned back to her stuff and picked up the sketch pad that she bought the other day when we went shopping. I flipped it open and on the first page was me again. I had to laugh at her portrayal of me. She obviously thought I was good-looking; I could tell by the way she seemed to skim over my flaws and drew me looking perfect, with not even a hair out of place.

“Do you like drawing me?” I asked, flipping the pad around so she could see what I was looking at.

“Sure, why not,” she replied, shrugging.