YogitaKerai
The party was too loud. Too bright. Too filled with faces I didn't care to remember.
But she was here.
Elara.
My Elara.
She stood by the balcony doors, the pale silk of her gown clinging to her in a way that made my hands itch to ruin e noise, brushing against my mind like a siren's whisper.
(He's actually kind of nice...)
My jaw tightened.
Kind of nice? The bastard was leaning closer, smiling at her like he had the right. My glass cracked in my hand. The stem didn't stand a chance.
Elara whispers brush through my mind:
(I wish Dante would stop glaring. He's scary when he does that.)
Scary.
She still didn't understand - the fear wasn't meant for her. It was for every other man who thought they could breathe the same air she did.
I started walking toward her. Slow, deliberate steps. People moved out of my way. They always did.
Her laughter faltered when she saw me.
Her eyes darted away.
Her thoughts didn't.
(Don't come over here... you're going to make a scene... oh god, he's making that face again...)
I stopped just inches from her, close enough to feel the tremor of her breath.
The man beside her tried to speak. I didn't look at him. Didn't need to.
"Leave," I said.
He did.
Her lips parted, a protest half-formed.
My hand slid to the small of her back, pressing her closer until her perfume drowned out the rest of the room.
"You were laughing," I said.
She blinked. "What-?"
"You won't be laughing with anyone else tonight."
Her heart was racing.
I could hear it.
I could feel it.
And in her head - a whisper that made my grip tighten.
(Why does he make my chest feel like this... I don't understand it...)
I smiled.
Small. Dangerous.
She still didn't know.
She would.
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