Loving Levi Greene

Chapter 13: The Watcher

*********Levi's POV********

She's wearing that adorable dress again.

It's a pale blue color, and covered in those patches that give it character. She must wear it whenever she decides to garden.

She's wearing thick gardening gloves that climb up her slender arms, stopping at her elbows.

Her hair is still pinned from last night, chocolate curls have come loose and are now framing her beautiful face.

She is down on her knees, reading from a small black book. Her lips are slightly parted while she scans the pages.

Seeing her in this position makes inappropriate thoughts flash through my mind. 

I force them away. 

Now is not the time.

In front of her are petals of violet, indigo, and purple, all stemming from long green stalks. She's studying the flower before her.

She's so smart. And beautiful.

She's everything.

Guilt floods through me.

I hate the way last night ended. I don't want her to be upset with me. I don't want her to think that I'm trying to control her. I just want to keep her safe.

Safe from people who would only want to use her. Or hurt her.

Or both.

I can't let that happen.

That's why I've taken it upon myself to keep watch.

I'm perched on the other side of the large garden, on the opposite side of the oak tree so she can't see me. No doubt, if she could see me, if she learned that she was being watched, she'd probably feel the furthest thing from safe.

So instead, I'll sit here, peeking occasionally. Ensuring her safety and my peace of mind.

In my lap is my sketch book. I have a small piece of charcoal.

I glance back to Amelia, trying to get the shape of her lips just right. Plump, parted, and curved upward.

I long to feel them connected to my own.

I feel a familiar throb below my belt. I can feel blood rushing to places that are very unnecessary right now.

Get it together. 

I try focus on the arch of her eyebrows instead. Gently applying pressure in upward strokes, I'm trying to make sure the thickness of the charcoal is placed strategically, highlighting the sharp contours of her features.

I glance back up to Amelia. She's standing now. Her body language indicates surprise. She's facing towards the entrance to Eden. My eyes follow the direction of her gaze and I feel my jaw clench. My teeth might crack under the pressure. 

This is exactly why I'm here.

I feel justified in my actions. I'm not sorry that I'm watching.

John Smith is waltzing through the garden's gate, smiling from ear to ear.

He's alone.

Red flags are flying in the fields of my vision.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here alone?

Did she invite him here, ignoring my warning?

Anger simmers just beneath my skin, threatening to burn holes through my clothes.

She returns the smile, slipping off her gardening gloves. She places them on a nearby bench where they both sit.