Lilac's Lies

23

Do you know that moment that happens in the movies? The one where the character thoughtfully pauses before hammering their fist down on the door infront of them, pensively asking themselves, bitch, are you sure you want to do this?

Yeah, I didn't have that moment.

My fist thumped down on the black door, my delicate knuckles banging against the smooth wood until I felt the sensation of my bare skin beginning to turn red. I didn't stop, though, even though Roman didn't answer immediately. I let that knowledge piss me off even further, knocking against the door with even more force.

"Son of a..." I began to mumble, starting to accept the fact that he wasn't going to answer his door.

I was interrupted, however, by the black door swinging open, revealing Roman. His face looked angry, his eyebrows narrows, and his mouth opened like he was prepared to tell me off. I only focused on his facial expression for a second, however, because my traitorous eyes betrayed me.

They flicked down towards his torso, which was bare. There was a towel wrapped around his waist, and the hard curves of his muscles were glistening with water that was still rolling down his body. Clearly, I had just interrupted his shower.

"Lilac?" Roman asked me, his voice evidence to his confusion.

My eyes still stayed on his displayed stomach, however, until I forcefully pulled them away. I had to give myself a small shake of my head, trying to find the anger that had just been flowing through me.

If there's anything to distract my anger, it's abs. Especially, glistening wet six-packs.

"No," I said, and I think I was talking to myself. "No, no, no. You're not tricking me today."

"Tricking you?" Roman echoed, and my eyes finally found his. They were rapidly scanning my face, lingering on my red eyes and my messy hair. He ran them down my body next, but not in the same way he did last night. Last night, his eyes were smug and alluring. Today, they were just filled with concern.

"Here, come in," Roman said, not waiting for me to further explain. He stepped aside, opening the door as if it was a written invitation for me to enter.

He didn't have to tell twice, as I began to remember the reason I was here in the first place. The remembrance that Roman was playing mind games with me, purposefully trying to pull me into something that I had no business being in, was enough to make me purposely strut into the lavish apartment.

I didn't turn back towards him until I heard him close the door behind me. I spun around on my heel, my finger raised in front of me as if I was a middle-aged woman about to release hell on the manager at a retail store.

"Who do you..." I began to ask him, but my words fell still in the air as I felt Roman grab hold of my arm, but his fingers weren't gripped around the one that was raised to him. He had taken the one that was still by my side.

Roman peered down intensely as if he was closely inspecting my skin.

"What the hell is this?" He asked in a low voice, and I turned my head to see what he was looking at.

Insanely, I knew what it was. Clear as day, Roman's fingers began tracing the small red marks that were perfectly spaced out in the pattern of a handprint,  no doubt from Jesse tugging me to the floor. I shrugged my arm out of his grasp, quickly taking a step back.

"None of your business," I told him, and for the first time, I was thankful that I had been keeping such a massive secret for so long. I was thankful because my voice sounded so calm and assured, I doubted Roman would see my panic.