The Secrets Within Pages

Two Sides

My eyes squint awake, the sun's harsh rays battling with my sight. I feel the tightness of my tear stained face, the tenderness of my puffy eyes. Looking to my side, Silas has fallen asleep in a chair near me.

He stayed.

The events of last night hit me and I remember it wasn't a nightmare, it was real. I stare at him, the sun playing with shadows on his face, his glorious face. If I were an artist, he would be my only muse, one I'd never tire from. Such endless beauty resides within him. 

"I can feel you staring." He groans with his raspy, sleep riddled voice. 

Startled, I look away, abashed. "You're awake?"

"Remind me to buy you another chair because whatever this is," he gestures to his seat. "Is an insult to furniture."

His complaining earns a chuckle. Opening his eyes, he looks at me almost to discern how I am after everything. "You snore like a truck." I joke, my eyes begging him not to bring up the previous night.

He smirks, "Have you seen what you look like when you cry?" 

Shaking my head, I smile. "That didn't stop you from staying the night."

"Well, it's going to take a lot more than that to repel me." He replies, rising from his seat. 

I wonder if that was true, I question it. Words in the moment were just that, words. You see if they meant anything in the long run.

Noticing my distraction, he speaks, pulling me out of my daze. "I want to show you something."

I quirk my brow in question. 

"Get dressed." He orders.

I wasn't doing much of anything lately, what with waiting around for Sonders to call and classes having ceased. I doubt he would take "No" for an answer.

Forcing myself out of bed, I pick a dainty, casual dress from my closet. Silas stands, waiting for me, "Aren't you going to turn around or leave?" I ask.

"Nothing I haven't already seen." He slithers.

"Turn. Around." I say, enunciating the words sternly.

Rolling his eyes, he obliges. Undressing, I slip on the dress and leave my hair unbound.

"Are you finished?" He asks impatiently.

"See for yourself." I reply as he looks back.

"Need some help?" He says, pointing to the undone zipper.

Nodding, he walks toward me. I look in the mirror as he stands behind me, he delicately swoops my locks to one side before his hands hover near my lower back, one holding the dress, the other slowly pulling the zipper up. He looks at me in the mirror before his gaze falls to my neck, tracing my collarbone as I feel his breath, hot against it, igniting gooseflesh all over me. I tilt my head towards his, our faces too close as he whispers to me, 

"Are you ready?" 

I nod. He backs away, desperate to close the harsh distance, I follow him out the door.

"I assume you're not going to answer me if I ask, where we're going?" I admit as we walk side by side on the streets of Oxfordshire.

"Took you a while but you're finally starting to catch up with me." He quips, hailing a taxi.

"Is that so, Golding?" I remark, eyebrows raised as a black Hackney taxi stops in front of us.

"Oh yes, Burroughs." He replies with a sly smile as he opens the car door, inviting me in.