Bound By The Crown

Chapter Twenty One

Lisanna Moore's P. O. V

The silence is palpable in the air as I bite on my tongue, careful not to say anything that I will regret any time soon.

"Yes Mr. Sinc-, I mean Thaddeus." I finish awkwardly, unsure on what to do now and careful of saying too much considering how precarious the situation is. One wrong move and he'll probably blow his head off.

But Mr. Sinclair, I mean Thaddeus, seems so at ease right now. My eyes widen partially at the hint of a smile edging at the corner of his lips. His demeanour one of a casualness which takes me off guard. It's not as if I haven't seen the man smile before. The little display of affection at the hospital not even a while ago runs fresh in my mind. It's just such a stark contrast, even as far as it being unnerving if I'm being completely honest.

"You nearly slipped up there Lisanna." The man taunts, an act I'm familiar with. At least his taunting is something I'm accustomed to since it borders somewhat to malice rather than kindness.

"Well, I'd say that isn't too bad considering you've been calling me every name other than my actual one." I mutter under my breath. The familiar tinge of annoyance flaring in me at the mere thought.

The audacity.

My words are audible but that doesn't stop me from being sheepish, nonetheless, my gaze directed to my heel clad feet and avoiding his green eyes. Oh wow, the bruise is still quite visible even now, I muse to myself.

"You're lucky I'm in such a good mood." Although Thaddeus' words are somewhat heavy, his tone is anything but as a teasing lilt makes itself known.

"Very lucky." I mumble, head still directed to a lowered gaze of my heels, only to startle when a warm hand falls onto my shoulder. I try my best to ignore my breath hitching in my throat, I also try to ignore the irrational urge to throw myself into this man's arms at not even a moment's notice.

What is wrong with me? I know if I did anything of the sorts it won't only be seen as severely inappropriate but this man would never let me live it down. That's not something I can easily carry around with me like that. I'm not sure when or how, but somewhere within the past few hours, I've either been bitten by some sort of bug or I've severely breached my own limits, to the point I'm reeking of desperation.

Now that's just sad at this point.

The silence which follows his movements has my head snapping up, unaware of my movements until it's too late and I'm staring straight back at him. Instead of the haughty smirk I was expecting, I'm greeted with a straight face but something else trying to take place. Something I can't quite place my finger on.

Of course, that would be the case. I'm now admittedly terrible at reading people's emotions, especially this man.

Should I say something or just stay quiet and continue to look at him as I have been like a daft idiot? Apparently words seem to fail coming out my mouth and instead wander around in my head, chock full of what I'd like to say and call him out on but my lips remain parted, no sound coming out except for the exhale of air.

Thaddeus stays as silent as I am but his grip doesn't falter, rather it tightens on me to the point I have to raise my hand up to clamp down on his own. My throat starts to grow dry as I let my tongue dart out to wet my dry chapped lips. The sensation nearly makes me cringe and I scrunch up my features at the rough texture only to freeze midway when I notice a certain pair of eyes zooming onto where my tongue pokes out like a dog's tongue lolling out of its snout.

Not the best comparison to make at this moment in time but it's all I can think about. If I don't think about dog's and their tongues the. I'll for sure sit and think about how it looks awfully as if Mr. Sinclair is going to kiss me.