[Paused] Dear Bloodhounds...

4. Shh, sweet girl

He sighed lowly as he began to brush his lips towards my own.

It was my turn to growl out.

"Get. off. me. now." I slowly punctuated each word menacingly.

I stood up and began packing away my Mac, scribbled notes and purse as quickly as I could. My hands shaking with pure rage the entire time.

"I should've known you were taking the p*ss out of me." I murmured as I moved to pick my bag up and put my scarf on, fighting with my eyes to not water.

Just this once, please, do not tell the world how I'm feeling.

My eyes were misting up so I could no longer focus; it was all a blurry mess. I guess that's how I ended up with cold tea in my boots, my tights now stuck ickily to my legs.

Caught between both anger and hurt, my pride was wounded. This dashing man, who I had begun to believe was attracted to me, had deceived, mocked and embarrassed me. Worse than that though, was that he had insulted my love for fiction. I knew that there were people who made fun of me and people like me, who enjoyed reading and writing fictional stories online. Boy, did I know.

That train of thought brings up plenty of bad memories.

I had a last glance around, making sure I hadn't left anything behind. The last thing I wanted to do was come back here tonight.

Lithely weaving between tables, chairs and customers I made my way to the door as inconspicuously as possible. I ensured Michael was suitably entertained with a group of girls and slipped out the door. Unfortunately I didn't manage to shake off the one causing the distaste in my mouth.

There he was, holding the door open as I passed through.

I made sure to contort my face into the ugliest glare that I could muster and shot it at him as I rounded the corner to continue down the street. I made my way home, finding my way through barely seeing eyes. My resolve was crumbling and I simply wanted to make it home without crying in the street. I'd left those days of stumbling home drunk, cheeks stained with tears, McDonald's bag in one hand and shoes in the other, well behind me.

What was troubling me most was the look I had seen on the handsome strangers face. He had been smiling, looking at me with almost awe. Why was he happy that he had driven me to the brink of a breakdown?  (A/N  I later found out that he believed I was leaving the coffee shop with him. Poor sweet, deluded man!).  Had been smiling being the operative words; that is until he saw my horrified face and it dropped quicker than underwear at a frat party.

I was so distracted by thoughts of his perfect face, his words and questioning why I was still thinking of him with fondness that I didn't realise I was outside my apartment block. I was so caught up in my own world I hadn't realised he had walked me home, trying to gain my attention all the way here.

I made to enter my building when a large arm shot by me to open the door. I screamed bloody murder; him scaring the ever-loving sh*t out of me. As far as I was concerned I had left him at the coffee shop and had walked home alone.

As quick as a flash he had me inside my buildings lobby, warm hand covering my mouth as he stroked me hair and whispered sweet nothings.

They went something along the lines of:

"Shh, sweet girl."

"[...] never hurt a hair on your head."

"Love [something, something]..."

"Can't believe [...] all mine"

His words and actions had me frozen to the spot, keys dangling from my finger. He uncovered my mouth once he realised I was no longer making a sound.

"Y-you, you followed me? I-uh, wha-at do you want from me? Please."

I was making absolutely no sense. My voice stuttered, making me sound terrified.

The peculiar thing was, that I was anything but. His presence and soft, husky tone calmed and comforted me all at the same time.

His eyes suddenly shot to my own, piercing through me.

"You can feel it too."

His eyes searched my own, looking for any sign of disagreement. I had no idea what he meant exactly, but I certainly was feeling some kind of pull towards him. The kind that you only read about in a romance novel.  The kind of feelings I wrote about in my own.  But certainly not what I should be feeling towards a stranger; especially a stranger who joked about my writing and love for werewolves.

"I know you do."

I pulled away from him slightly, making for the stairs to begin the climb to my fourth floor apartment, my eyes downcast as I began to speak.

"Look, I admit, you're helluva handsome, and you certainly know how to manipulate a girl into being completely, irrevocably captivated by you..."

I trailed off and looked up, directly into his eyes.

"But, not only have you basically stalked me to my home, you also insulted my greatest passion. Your sweet talking and gentle touch wont change that."

I turned around and began my walk up to my home, feeling a pinch in my chest as I did so.

I could feel his eyes on my back as I reached the top step of the first flight.  "Please leave. I don't know why you're here but Sam is waiting on me and he gets grumpy if I'm not in by the time he's going to bed."

I barely made it around the corner before I heard a loud growl come from below, followed by a thunderous voice.

"WHO THE F*CK IS SAM?!"

Oops.

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Actual A/N
Hello, hello.
How are we all?
I hope you're enjoying this so far.  Let me know that you're with me 😊.
Next chapter will also be up shortly... as in within the next hour.

- Ellie 💋