“Never do that again,” he said, shaking his head. His gaze was intense and angry, raising the temperature between us.
I swallowed hard in fear, struggling to speak.
“What?” I stuttered, drawing my hand from his deadly grip, and stepped back.
My eyes betrayed my mind, fixating on his neck. A thick mole, slightly to the right of the centre of his neck, held my sight.
As he pulled me back, I glanced away, bumping my shoulder into his bare chest.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and his words, coated in a deep and low voice,“That I’m sending someone else,” twisted my gut.
I blinked nervously. The words hung in my throat as I tried to speak,“I did not mean—”
“Don’t act smart,” he cut me off. His voice had never affected me like this.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly replied. My voice came out shaky.
I tried to step away from him, but he held my wrist again, gentler this time. The bangles tinkled on my wrist as he took his fingers back. I lifted my gaze, staring into his eyes, scrutinising my hand.
My throat went dry. I felt his palm curl around my forearm and glide until it reached my elbow.
A shiver ran through my body when he slipped his finger into the hem of my blouse’s sleeve.
“Wh... what are you doing?” I fumbled, stepping away, but he hushed me down.
A wave of fright rushed through my body, and I stood frozen under his light grip. He slid the sleeve of my blouse halfway and gently brushed his thumb along my arm, slowly yet captivatingly.
“I met a priest, and he suggested I…” he said, taking a few steps away before moving even nearer with a black thread.
I gulped nervously when he tied the thread around my left arm thrice while saying.“It’ll help you with the nightmares.”
I shook my head.“I don’t believe in such things,”
He gazed into my eyes, scanning me to the folds of my former existence, and tied it securely so it would never come off.
“You don’t believe in God?” he intoned, and I shook my head.“Why?” he questioned.
“Because he did nothing great in my life that he could take credit for,” I replied, and he smirked at the end.
“You’re standing here alive before me. Do you think that happened without God’s help?” he asked, and I shook my head.
No.
If he wanted me alive, he wouldn’t have let me go there.
After a long silence, I asked,“If you believe in God, why are you afraid to give love another chance?”
He lifted his intense gaze and stared sharply into my eyes. It stripped me bare, leaving me weak in the knees.
But there was a magnetic force that kept me comfortable in his presence, and I couldn’t stop looking into those dark green eyes. His eyebrows were moderately thick; his lashes were long. I could feel our breathing was shallow.
“You might know that love is not a bed of roses,” he drawled, his gaze lowering to my lips. It made me feel even weaker. Attracted.Maybe.
“Only adjusting you around the waist is certainly not love. So I wouldn’t know,” I murmured, feeling his grip tighten around my arm and his expression harden.
“Then you shouldn’t speak of it,” he gritted, and I lowered my gaze to his lips moving as words flowed out in his deep voice, a source of madness and safety in my nightmares, that had preserved me amidst the inferno. The voice that now turned my world around on a different axis—his voice.
“I’m just trying to shift your perspective. I can’t say for certain, but marriage can be a nightmare without love… I’m speaking from experience,” I tried to express, my voice trembling.
