Captive Of The Count

32

Amara's pov

I woke up warm, with Mr grump's jacket wrapped around me. His scent being the first thing to greet me as my senses awakened. I knew that he must have woken up in the middle of the night to put his jacket on me cause I most definitely do not remember sleeping with it.

We still faced each other with the blanket pulled on both of us, our faces merely inches apart just like the way our bodies were and just a little change in position from me will have me pressed against him.

My gaze flickered in his direction, at the tiny space between us and I felt tiny thunderbolts erupt in my belly at my discovery. My cheeks grew warm and my heart swelled more than it should have.

My left hand was held in his. His fingers entwined with mine resting near our heads. I don't remember falling asleep with our hands together it was actually with his wing around me and I wondered what possessed him to hold my hand later on.

Seeing our hands entangled ignited a sudden realization in me of why we shouldn't be together.

It was like dark against light.

We didn't belong together, shouldn't belong together.

Soft slender fingers of mine contrasting with his calloused fingers, our palms were no different, his were thick and rough against my delicate skin.

His fingers and arm were inked, black ink as dark as his heart didn't look like they belonged alongside with my alabaster toned arm but I couldn't also miss the way they perfectly molded tighter, small against big, fragile against strong.

The way he held on like he never wanted to let me go made me want to lean in and snuggle against him. To get lost in the moment and act like he didn't kidnap me.

"I will make her love me, you will see." It was a low murmur that veered my gaze from our linked hands to his face. He was still asleep and I smiled seeing that he talked in his sleep, so cute but who is he talking about by the way? Who is he going to make love him?

He looked peaceful and relaxed in this state of rest. Watching him was like watching a beautiful sleeping baby while being careful not to make a sound so as not to wake them.

His hair was still pulled up in my scrunchie, the constant frown on his face was gone and he wasn't bearing an overall grim expression. He looked serene. I moved instinctively without thinking and placed a kiss on his forehead, oops.

He sighed, and leaned towards me, his hand on mine tightened. His calm breathing indicated that he was still asleep.

I let my gaze trail on the scar wondering how it happened while suppressing the urge to trace it. I couldn't do that, I had a mission at hand and I couldn't risk waking him.

For a second, I considered halting my plans. The thought of if we could talk this out, and make this work submerged my thinking.

I couldn't risk losing my parents and also my soulmate. I didn't know if I could live without him if I eventually escaped, the idea of spending life alone was dreadful. If only we could sit and have civil discussions. He could say how we offended him and then we would fix it.

I swallowed, it can't be fixed.

He had implied that already and maybe if I tried, I would only be wasting my time, "I love you too, Imelda." He murmured with a slight tilt to his lips as he mouthed his words and my heart broke.

I wished I didn't hear him talking in his sleep, who would have thought it would lead to an early heartbreak?

Imelda,