The Secrets Within Pages

Passion

It was moments like these that irrationality was justified. Where preferring to jump through the window or sleep on a bed made of cacti didn't seem too horrible. In fact, it seemed wonderful because anything was better than forcibly having to share a bed with Golding. Having his body so close to mine, sharing bed sheets and blankets- the thought of it set me aflame. 

What's worse is that my body aches in exhaustion, longing for sleep. I have no energy to protest or argue, my body just wants to be embraced by the mattress but my mind refuses to agree with this incivility. 

In my periphery, I see Golding fluidly removing his leather jacket to reveal a tight black top, that sculpts every curve and edge of his torso. 

"What are you doing?" I speak tensely.

"Undressing, care to help?" He retorts smoothly. His smug smirk and proud demeanour poisoning the atmosphere.

Biting my tongue, I lumber to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I inhale deeply. Golding seemed to believe that he could get away with anything all the time. No situation fazed him, whatever was thrown at him, he twisted it into his own game. He always figured out how to set every inch of me on fire with frustration. 

Well, two can play at that game and I don't like to lose. 

I throw some water on my face, freshening up. I swap my casual clothes for a small, silvery blue satin nightgown. After all, we were going to sleep. I saunter out of the bathroom with ease, strikingly different to the stiff trudge moments before. I pay no attention to him as I move toward the vanity in front of the bed, placing my bag near it. My traitorous skin erupts in gooseflesh as his gaze falls on me. He bites down, jawline clenched and on display. His body tenses, breath coming to a halt. Delicately, I swoop my hair to one side, my neck bare. Sitting down, I begin to brush my hair, the movement causing one of my straps to fall. 

A deep exhale. His gaze- intense, heated, unfaltering. 

I can't help the small, proud smile that dares form. My eyes flick to his in the mirror, fiery and potent. Standing in the doorway, his long form is accentuated, arm gripping the frame tightly- biceps tensing.

I rise from my seat and walk towards the bed. He walks toward me, I hold my ground as he comes closer. I feel the bedside table behind me and hold the edge, he stands before me- so close I can smell his ambrosial scent. He scans me slowly from head to toe as his arm reaches past me and dims the lamp on the table.  

"Trying to seduce me, Burroughs?" He rasps in my ear, entrapping me with his arm on the wall behind me.

"Depends. Is it working?" My whisper, sultry. 

His other hand strokes my arm until he reaches my shoulder, where his finger adjusts my strap. 

"Its getting late." He says, still standing in front of me before.

Leaving me breathless and heated, my heart wildly thumps out of my chest as he moves away to the other side of the bed. 

We both slip under the covers. Our backs to each other, I stick to the edge of the mattress and try to organize my thoughts. I grip the blanket, pulling it toward me. I feel a tug back, leaving me uncovered. 

"Stop." I say sternly.

"Or what?" He replies in the same tone. 

"Or I'll kick you?" 

"Is that so?" A taunt. 

Again. I pull, he pulls. 

I turn to face him and find him doing the same. I make a move to steal the blanket but he grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him slightly.

"You-" I grit.

"Me, what?" He responds. 

I rip my arm from his grasp and turn around, forcing myself to shut my eyes and pray that slumber puts me under it's spell. I feel him shift and turn, his body so close to mine, a magnetic force teasing the small space between us. 

~~~

The euphonious sound of the birds chirping synchronizes with the whistling wind, waking me gently. My eyes flit open, my limbs slowly adjusting to movement. My heart sinks into my stomach when I find myself and Golding entangled with each other. Bodies embracing, my head cradled in the crook of his neck and legs entwined with his. I jerk back sharply, he wakes to the sudden movement, grunting unintelligibly. 

"What is wrong with you?" He grumbles, scratching his head. 

"We were..." I begin to explain but find it useless. "Nothing."

He turns around and falls back onto his pillow, melting into sleep. 

Moving off the bed, I wear a robe and exit the room in search for breakfast. Walking out into the hall, I gape at the interior of the manor. Red carpet extends to all the hallways, warm and golden tones decorate the walls and furniture. Expensive, bewitiching paintings adorn its walls and an extravagant chandelier hangs from the ceiling, sunlight catching its crystals along with mahogany floor boards and matching spiral staircases to furnish the home.

"Impressed, Miss. Burroughs?" A familiar voice questions. 

I spin around to face Vincent Fraser, who is already dressed as though ready to attend a ball. I flush in embarrassment as I remember what I'm wearing. 

"Your home is beyond exquisite, Mr. Fraser." I compliment. 

"Come now Eleanor. Please, call me Vincent."

I smile at his hospitality. We begin to walk together and he talks to me of all the paintings on the walls. I stop when I see a large painting that covers almost the whole wall. Framed in gold, it is of a dove with the wings of a crow or a dove in front of a crow whose wings are spread. Its hard to tell, most likely intentional. 

Ambiguous, I thought.

"This is my personal favorite." Vincent expressed, eyes examining the artwork.

He went on,"It's so raw and..."

"Thought-provoking." I expressed, earning a sincere nod from him.

Rushing footsteps fill the hallway as a maid advances to Vincent. Passing a note to him, she whispers in his ear. 

"Okay, thank you Lilith." He says, taking the note from her.

"You must pardon me, Eleanor. I have to take care of something but please join me for breakfast in an hour, you and your friend." He proposes, before leaving. 

I wonder what he is up to.