Vicious Love; Nathaniel's Captive

XI

"You can come inside mine, then. How's it?"

Delilah wasn't sure if she heard him right. She couldn't believe it until she listened to him twice because such a big favour from a stranger was something unpredictable and unacceptable. Strangers aren't so nice to strangers unless they have an evil intention or something to demand.

Her face held the expression of her heart. She stared at him, dumbfounded before she whispered, "What?"

He sighed, realizing she wasted almost three minutes just to have him repeat for her.

"I said you can come inside my room for tonight," he repeated, pushing a hand into the pocket of his trousers.

Her eyebrows raised and she hurried to reply, "N-No, why should I trouble you?" She threw an excuse, while in reality, she didn't trust him enough to share a room with him.

That was obvious.

"You think you can trouble me?" That shut her mouth. "I have two beds and. . ." He narrowed his eyes on her as he added, "If you're afraid, you can tell me straight. No need to make excuses before me."

He said it to make her realize that he could read her easily. Not only her but he was sharp enough to read people and know what was going through them. Not that he was a psych — he never believed it — but he had experience.

"How did you know?" She whispered the words, peeking down at her toes which were covered with her red pumps. She made sure he couldn't listen to her tiny whisper but being as sharp as a two-edged sword, he heard her easily.

But he desired to say nothing. To him, answering such questions was useless. He never wished to answer or justify himself. He either let them trust him or else, he judged them with his gun.

"Please, don't think like that. You're kind that you offered me help but. . ."

"So you wish to spend the night here?"

"I have no other way."

"Suits you," with that said, he wished to leave. He turned around and opened the door back.

She sighed, peeking into his room which was a small moment as he stepped inside. Delilah felt the longing to stay inside her room when she looked into his, and for a moment, her heart asked her to accept the offer.

"Hey!" She uttered, not loud enough to make him jerk.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, humming.

"Can I come inside?" She asked carefully, as if the offer lost its validation the moment he turned around.

"Sure," he stepped aside and let her in, which she still did reluctantly.

Could say that there were two voices inside her head. One asked her to believe him while the other was afraid of the consequences.

When the spirit speaks, it's weird to the world and people may call it illogical, forgetting so well that the same spirit is the foundation of their creation. But when the mind keeps doubting, nobody finds it awkward why this flesh likes to live in chaos when peace is available.

Sometimes, it isn't awkward. Rather, people are awkward who try to shut the voice of their spirits.

But she found it better to listen to the innermost voice of her being. It knew more than her mind or experience.

He closed the door behind him as Delilah stepped into his suit. She stood near the door while he walked inside, asking her to follow him which she did.

She looked around and found two beds in the room as he told her. The curtains of his room behind the sliding glass doors were spread full. She inhaled the warm and sweet aroma of lavender that was in the air of his room and she found it to be pleasant and bigger than hers.