She is the Queen

Chapter 5

𝙰𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅:

As I gazed into those huge hazel eyes, I was lost. She was much cleverer than I had anticipated, and I couldn't quite figure out how she did it. My curiosity grew with each passing moment, and I longed to know her secrets. But I was blindfolded, and she refused to answer me.

My anger began to take over as she stood her ground, daring me to challenge her. I had never encountered a girl who could stand up to me, reject me, and dare me all at once. Yet there she was, refusing to back down no matter how hard I pushed her.

Despite her strength and boldness, I couldn't help but feel remorse for pushing her so harshly. She was only a tiny 17-year-old girl, after all. As she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, I couldn't help but scan her features. Her skin was a beautiful tan complexion likely from her mixed heritage, with a hint of golden undertones that caught the light just so. It was smooth and flawless, without a blemish or imperfection in sight. You could tell she took great care of herself, with a radiant glow that seemed to emanate from within. But it was her hair that truly made her stand out. Soft, flowing waves of rich brown cascaded down her back, framing her face and highlighting her striking features and her eyes were light brown with a hidden wisdom that intrigued me. Her lashes were long and thick, fluttering coyly. 

But it was her lips that caught my attention the most. They smelled of cinnamon, spicy and mysterious, and I found myself staring at them deeply. I was falling under her spell, captivated by her every movement and the way she held herself.

Just as I was about to make a move, I noticed her fingers were covered in blood. She looked at it for a moment before glancing up at the ceiling and closing her eyes once again. Something inside me snapped, and I knew I had to act quickly. I held onto her waist and picked her up, firmly commanding someone to get a doctor.

As I sat by her side, waiting for the doctor to arrive, I couldn't help but realize how deeply I was becoming obsessed with this girl. She had challenged me like no one before, making me question my own dominance and leaving me feeling vulnerable. Yet despite all of that, I found myself drawn to her like a magnet.

As the doctor arrived and began to tend to her wounds, I couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness washing over me. I would do anything to keep her safe, to continue exploring the depths of her mind and personality.  As the doctor finished up and stepped away, I leaned in closer to check on her myself. Her breathing was slow and steady, her chest rising and falling in a soothing rhythm.

As I sat there, lost in thought, the doctor came back into the room and interrupted my reverie. He needed to do some further tests on Laila, and I found myself standing up and following his every movement. Was it some kind of instinct, some primal sense that told me she needed protecting?