((Sidenote: Each chapter will be stand-alone drabbles.))
Maybe you better let me look out for you? Large hands grip her shoulders. Garthe Knight offers.
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Bleary sea-glass hues behold the powerful hands firmly capturing her shoulders. Trepidation steals over the brunette's features as she finds herself helplessly entangled, trapped without some definitive way of escape. Had these hands belonged to Michael, she'd have fewer qualms about the touch. Yet, nothing about this original son of Wilton Knight bespoke kindness or gentility.
His words, like liquefied ice, trickle down her spine forcing a visible series of shivers. Long, dark lashes drift lazily downwards till the stubbornness welling up inside of her settles upon her tongue. What little note of caution had sparked within her mind is snuffed out and forgotten. Bravely, she finds her own voice and she ushers out two venom-laced words, "like hell!" Twisting the knife-like edge of her words deeper she willfully tacks on, "Michael Knight will come for me and when he does, you'll be sorry." Of course, she knows invoking the name of Michael could be the authorization of her death warrant. Still, she does it without wavering. If she is to perish as a result of this, she would do so with an air of relentlessness resolve.
She could have easily surrendered, allowing him to take an interest in her well-being. But something tells Barstow that his ideas would not mesh with that of her own not even by the longest shot imaginable. Her pursed lips offer him no refuge. Her own hands ball into fists at her side awaiting opportunities to be launched in his direction should he be so careless as to open himself to the assault.
YOU ARE READING
Short Collection of Knight Rider Drabbles
Short StoryThese are based on asks I get on my Knight Rider blog on Tumblr. (Bonnie-barstow-of-flag.tumblr.com) As such, most of them will be written from the perspective of Bonnie Barstow
