Chapter Three

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The pale moon cast it's gaze over the opulent room. The evening breeze was alight with a soft whisper and caress. Clèmence stared unwavering at the painting that she had purchased not so long ago. The colossal artwork presented with it's vibrant colors had sparked a nerve in her that never seemed to diminish. The painter conveyed a message as she perceived much similar to her own.

The sound of rustling clothes snapped her out of her reverie. Malachi stood at the foot of the bed dressed only in his slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. His hair glistening with the faint trail of water making the color darken. His attention fixed on the clock opposite, the painting where she stood with arm crossed.

She recoiled her features as she watched him dress. He neither spoke nor had he acknowledged her presence and so was the case with her as well. There was an undeniable strained tension between them. From the time, Clèmence had awoken bruised and battered without an inkling of recollection of what had transpired, she had not uttered a word.

The past week had been hellish for her; drugged to the point of delirium had taken it's tenacious course on her lucidity. The home Doctor had continuously placated her with the promise of swift recovery if she took the sedatives, motionless and without thought of reason she merely compiled. The grievance of her bruises were mild compared to her mental state of mind.

He had only come once to see her when she was in a disoriented haze, Malachi had stroked her hair and gave her a feverish kiss leaving a single rose on her chest, the only indication of his visit. Unfortunately for her, she was moved back to their room when she was finally able to stand on her own two feet.

She was greeted with floor arrangements of white roses and a velvet jewellery box which contained a beautiful necklace enclosed with a cynical note from him. That was the only piece of communication between them except the intense stares and small kisses he gave her when he thought she was asleep, though she assumed he could see through her pretence.

"I learnt you haven't been eating". The deep accented voice rumbled with a cold indifference. She wished he would not talk to her and just leave like he was supposed to.

"Why do you care?". Clèmence rasped. Her voice hoarse and sounding unfamiliar but still with an edge of bitter resentment that cut it's vice at him.

They had not spoken to each other since the incident at the club and the sudden topic of her lack of appetite was not going to start it.

"I don't". He uttered as he fixed his tie but his eyes were concentrated on hers,penetrative and nonchalant but with strong contradiction to the mirth in his eyes.

Clèmence scoffed with indignation. "Really now,then why ask?". The sarcasm in her tone made him raise an eyebrow.

"I wondered when you were going to bear your talons, Sweet. Because you decide to starve for my attention doesn't mean I would allow it".

"Your attention?". She laughed ludicrously at the irony."Your attention is the last thing I would ever need".

His lips curved into a condescending smirk as he watched her in a mysterious manner somewhat uncouth."You are such a child, quite predictable, it's almost pitiful. To say I enjoyed the mute version of you is an understatement. You always wish to learn things the hard way".

Clèmence was livid,bhe had the audacity to say that she wanted to be beaten and left unconscious for days. "How dare you". She said with clenched teeth."I never did anything wrong!, you were the one who beat me to unconsciousness and asked the Doctor to continuously sedate me!. You almost drove me mad all because I want to go home!".

"There it is". Malachi sneered,a finger pointed at her. "That attitude that I can't fucking stand. Sad, how I was considering taking you to the club since I thought you would behave,be grateful if you ever step a foot out of this room".

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