AFTER NEVER (Charlotte's Story)

Chapter 62/134: Thorne

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I fluttered my lashes open softly, as a toxic, rich smell invaded my nostrils.

My K-9 unit senses directly became activated, and I blinked several times, in an attempt to register what was going on.

The ceiling, which was a transparent glass just yesterday, reflecting the magic of the night universe, was now closed completely as though it were a normal wall.

I frowned, still half-asleep, a soft gasp escaped me, "Wah, where's the ceiling?"

A silhouette to the right shifted.

"Ah, I was going to wake you up in exactly four minutes and forty-seven seconds." His calm, composed voice came, and I turned to eye him, standing before the mirror over the chest of drawers to the right side of the master bed I was on.

His beauteous, sharp features were reflected over the mirror in precise detail.

I pursed my lips, biting on them as I rubbed my eyes, sleepily.

I saw he had his necktie carelessly loose around his neck, untied, and his shirt unbuttoned at its first two buttons.

He buttoned the buttons of his sleeves, eying my reflection behind him through the mirror. "Get up, get dressed, I leave in twenty minutes."

I gasped, straightening abruptly, "Gah! excuse you? You planned to wake me up fifteen minutes before leaving, expecting me to get all dressed and ready in such a time?!" I snapped.

He buttoned his right hand sleeve, "I planned to wake you up seventeen minutes and thirty seconds before leaving, and yes, I expected so. I get ready in ten minutes. I was generous enough to give you seven extra ones."

I considered the idea of pulling my hair off, "Ugh!!" I got out of bed, his shirt falling over my thighs as warm air swept over my uncovered flesh. "Wow," I blinked in the direction of the Air Conditioner, "You actually turned that to heating mode? I thought you preferred coldness."

He finished buttoning his sleeve, and, reaching for his necktie, he brought it together, preparing to start tying it. "Yes, indeed I do. However," his deep, glowing-with-hidden-hunger-and-mischief eyes raked over me, from head to toe, as they darkened further, "I figured you might need some... warmth."

I blinked, naïvely, flushing, "Oh, um, thanks." I mumbled, appreciatively, and he looked back to the mirror before him, fixing his tie with his focused gaze intensively.

I neared him a step, instinctively, "Uhm, if you want, I-I can fix that for you," I blurted, bashfully.

I felt myself redden slightly, to be honest, I knew how to fix a man's necktie neatly and quickly; I used to do so back in days where my dad had a... Errr, 'reputable' work, and he would attire suits.

Rickard Ellington, for a second, stiffened, his beauteous orbs letting a blink escape them, as their normal coldness glowed with some hint of surprise.

He directly hid that, maintaining their composed state once again.

He arced his head in my direction, eyes fixing me as though I were some kind of alien, "You know how to?"

I flushed softly, and a hint of pride surged through me, "Yes, sir!" I smiled, enthusiastically, "I used to help my father tying his necktie before he left us." I fidgeted, keeping my unsure smile.

He kept his gaze over me for a second, deepening it and intensifying it several folds until I could feel my skin burn.

And he turned towards me, nearing me a step.