Ch 15

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Firstly, I would like to apologize. I ran into issues with life and she then continued to kick me after I fell down. Secondly, I now have a very concrete idea where this novel is going. Thirdly, you guys are amazing for making it this far. I got a comment from someone that they liked the novel and wanted more. You were a saving grace and a reminder. Thank you!



For years I thought I knew what beauty was but now... She is my definition of beauty. Sitting at the counter, she was still looking at the pasta. She had eaten six small bites and two large ones. I was counting until I saw her hair. It was a mess. Most was around her shoulders yet there were strands to her waist. But the color was what got me. With the sunlight filtering through the window, her hair was a burnt gold. Tangles were an issue but her skin seemed to glow in the light too. She reminded me of the people from the old country India, but with a mix of European descent. She had the skin tone of the now extremely rare coffee with a good helping of sugar and cream.

As I looked, I began to see the scars. They criss crossed all over her skin, up her arms and down her legs. When I had cleaned her wounds, I saw the designs on her torso and the words inscribed on her.  The merchant's tattoo's and other marks. Her back had been the worst. It was a bloody mess with old, far older scars from childhood to the tears and rips of now. Even through all of it, she still survived. I could hold her now.

And her eyes... In all of history past, even in the oldest legends, there was never a more stunning violet. Her eyes held a cunning intelligence that didn't miss a single detail. She knew where we were. When we shifted, she moved accordingly. The awareness was born of fear and uncertainty. She didn't know who we were yet and a spear of pain went through me each time she looked at me with wariness. Even with the color, her eyes were framed by huge eyelashes that caressed her cheeks.

Her face was small and petite. With very defined cheek bones, her mouth was extenuated. Near her upper lip there was a small scar, as if someone had flick a knife against her skin. Even then, when I saw her, I saw beauty defined.

Peeking at Mathew, I saw him watching her with the same look of wonder I was probably sporting. She was my universe and I would do anything for her now. But first, she had to eat and get her wounds redressed.

"Angel..." I started.

"You have to tap something or make a visual que. I suggest tapping the counter. She may take any movement wrong." Mathew spoke up.

Tapping my fingers on the counter, she flinched and whipped her head up meeting my eyes for a second before lighting upon my lips.

"Angel, I need to redressed your wounds but first, you need to eat more. Eight bites is not nearly enough. Don't look at me like that! I was counting!" Blushing I turned around and started washing the dishes and utensils.

I heard Matthew say "Babe, We know you were a slave because we figured it out. Living this long has given us some kin of deductive reasoning. Otherwise, I would never know where I left my socks." Chuckling he continued, "You were bloody and we wanted to make sure you were okay. When we finally got far enough from the town we stopped and started trying to clean you enough to help. Brandon saw your scars, or at least enough of them for me to make the connection when he told me about them. You were found whipped in a town surrounded by slavers and the slave market for this part of the country."

Wiping my hands on a towel I grabbed and found her looking at me I said "We just want you healthy and safe. The three of us can talk about the past and other subjects when you are in bed and better fed."

Looking me in the eye she proceeded to nod, pick up her fork, and eat the pasta.





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