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James March Part Three

   Seven years later, and I've had answered every question I originally had. I've grown accustomed to the hotel, and very fond of it, and everyone and thing in it. I don't ask questions anymore, for I already know the answers. Though knowing which one is the right answer is the hardest part.
   I was born in 1902, to Loretta and Bartelso Samson. Somehow, I was transported to the year 2001, where I lost all my memories, and was reborn as a baby. I feel like the answer as to why I was sent is in the hotel itself. That it wanted to protect me from something within. But I still don't know. I don't think I ever will.
   Once Elizabeth found out I was gone, she went to a local witch doctor and the next thing she knew, she was with me, at age three, her adult conscious still there. So, she stayed by my side as a sort of protector, and yet still my best friend. Then she led me back to the hotel, and back to my rightful life.
   As my time here goes on, my memories slowly come back. I remember so many things. About Elizabeth, who I fondly call Lizzie now, Hazel, James. And the murders. The murders that seem to take place almost ceremoniously here, in the tunnels and rooms that no guest could find.
   But for some reason, I don't care about them. In this new mind of mine, murder does not seem to bother me. At all. And it scares me a bit, but also comforts me. Makes me feel like I'm closer to everyone here. And I definitely don't mind when James hurts someone who hurt me.
   Like that horrid woman Natacha Rambova, who repeatedly called me a pig for three days straight. I ended up in James' bed that night, crying, and told him what happened. That she was calling me hostile names because of my weight, which was obviously much more than hers. He soothed me until I fell asleep, and when I awoke, Lizzie came in and told me I would no longer be encountering Natacha.
   As of right now, I am playing cards with James on his large bed, him smoking a cinnamon flavored cigar, me eating fudge made by the local baker.
   "I fold," James says, placing his cards down randomly. I look up in shock, because he hasn't done this before.
   "Are you sure?" I ask, placing my cards down as well.
   He smiles softly, his dark eyes glistening at me. "It is uninteresting to me right now. Let's just talk, Y/N. Square?"
   I smile back and collect the cards together. I place them on the bedside table to my right and turn back just fast enough to catch James looking at...well, I'm not sure.
   "What are you looking at, Mr. March?" I ask, suddenly scared he will make a comment on my size.
   "As a matter of fact, I was looking at your voluptuous behind, Ms. Samson." He says, looking directly into my eyes and smirking.
   I blush immediately and start smoothing out the fabric of my night dress. 'He doesn't like you that way, Y/N, so don't get your hopes up.'
   "Why?" I blurt out, before I can stop myself.
   "Because it is nice to look at, my dear. It is very round, and luscious, and bouncy. I want to just play with it, in all my honesty."
   "But...but I'm fat. I'm ugly. Especially compared to Lizzie, or even Hazel..." I say, looking down at my hands, entwining them together then untwining them.
   James scoots closer to me and takes my chin in between two of his fingers. The cigar is now in the nearest ashtray, and I feel his cinnamon lips brush against mine. "You are beautiful, Y/N, don't every think you are not. To me, you are the most beautiful woman in this hotel, this town, this...this whole world."
   I gasp against his lips and press against them a bit. He presses back just as hard, if even a bit harder, and takes my face in his two large hands. I cannot believe this gorgeous man finds me beautiful, so I pull back quickly.
   "Did...did Lizzie tell you to do this...? Because I know you and her are in relations. You've been chasing her the whole time I've been here," I say sadly, realizing this is probably the sad truth.
   James chuckles and pulls my face back to his. "I only let her stay because she is your best friend. I do not want her. I do not even like her in any way other than as I would a business partner. I have wanted you these years. I think you are beautiful, and elegant, and calming, and understanding, and just...so damn perfect. I love you. You are beautiful, and I love you."
   The words have me taken aback, and I just sit there, blinking, my brain trying to comprehend what he just spoke.
   "You...you...love...me?" I look up at him, scared it is all a sick joke.
   He nods, and kisses me again, lightly. "If it seemed I was attracted to Elizabeth, I am sorry. I wanted to make you jealous some of the time, but it seemed every time it just made you leave dinner, parties, even simple talks, earlier than I wished. I am so sorry, " He takes a breath. "Yes, I love you, Y/N, for very good reason.
   I smile nervously at him and reach a hand up to his face. I stroke his small mustache, my fingers dancing over his lips. I look up at him, he looks almost tense. Like he's holding himself back.
   "I know you want to. So go ahead," I whisper.
   And with that, he slowly begins showing me how beautiful he thinks I am.

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Author's Note: My first imagine in my new book! This story got a bit long, I admit, but I wanted it detailed. It was something new, and was recommended by the awesome fresh-avocado. Thanks for being the first to request! I hope you and everyone else enjoys this!