Her Nature

|Chapter 22|

The second time I woke up, the sun was climbing the sky again. That's not what woke me though, it was the click of the door. Luciano stepped out of the bathroom, skin slick from his shower. My mouth watered and dried up at the same time.

His towel was around hips, barely even hanging. Our eyes never caught as he traded his towel for his loincloth and I buried my head back into the pillow. I hate the awkward silence that passes between us. Was I that bad or something? We didn't even have real sex. Gosh this is just making it so much worse I feel like we should address it. Well maybe not because that will be awkward too but trying to ignore it is absolutely wrecking my nerves. "Breakfast is ready."

His sentence was short, no other purpose than to inform me. I guess we really are back to normal, only talking when he has to and saying what he needs. His shoulders were still drawn up uncomfortably tense. Is he affected by me the way I'm affected by him? I watched the twitch of his fingers that he curled and uncurled. He regrets what we did I just know it, he's upset with himself for touching me so now he will cut off all contact. Push me away. I should be doing the same with him.

He left the room without another word and I groaned in annoyance. My cause felt hopeless and the line I drew, thin. I still have urges to touch him even if it weren't lust driven. But I can't. I won't. I yanked the cover off myself and stomped to the dresser. Exchanging my sleep clothes for a pair of workout tights and a shirt, I stomped to the meal table like a child. I don't even care how I look right now, I'm upset.

I ate next to the redheaded twins again and listened to them ramble about nothing in particular so I could distract myself from my own problems. Feeling a poke in my thigh, I bottle my frustrations and try to smile at my visitor. The blonde pup from last night leaned close to me in her chair—she wanted my attention. "You never told us what happened to the girl and the Beast."

My lips stretched in a smile at the cuteness that rolled off her in waves. Doe eyes watched me push my empty plate forward and put space between the table and my chair, intently waiting for an answer. Her blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail that she fiddled the ends of. She's an adorable little thing I have the overwhelming urge to squeeze her so tight. Kids will do that to you, bat their innocent eyes at you and then rob you for every piece of food and affection you have. I don't mind it sometimes.

She scooted closer to me as if I was about to whisper my deepest secret. "Well," I began reaching for her hair and pulling the tie from the tangled mess. She turned her back to me to give me a better angle and I ran my fingers through the knots until I was satisfied they were gone. "Remember how I told you that they danced together and Belle saw the Beast as a man?"

Her blonde strands shook as she nodded her head. I started weaving the blonde locks into a braid that matched mine. "That was because she loved him. She knew that they called him a Beast because he was always angry and mean, but she saw the man that had feelings. Belle couldn't help but to be drawn to him."

"So if people didn't really know him, then how could they call him a Beast? That's mean." Her soft voice pondered with acute anger. I chuckled at the irony. If only she knew. The world can be an angry place and everyone seems to think that taking their anger out on other people will magically solve all of their problems. Newsflash: it won't. "I don't know, people are not always as nice as they should be."

Her legs swung over the side of the chair and she fell silent. I took that as my sign to keep going. "Anyway, the Beast and Belle were in love but they didn't even realize it themselves. That was until her father returned with an army. He came back for his daughter because he loved her obviously—he didn't think she was safe and did not know that the Beast was not evil."

A tiny gasp left her lips, "They won't kill him, right?" Her hair yanked from my fingers when she twisted her body to face me. She worried her little eyes for the fictional character—Its almost refreshing to see how children feel their emotions in their entire bodies. I'm used to shoving mine down and locking them in a steel box before soldering it shut, the very opposite of her. Gently turning her face away from me, I started the braid again. "Shh, wait for me to tell it."