The Little Dove #2 ✔️

11. Edmund, You Have the Sexiest Name On the Planet

CHAPTER 11: Edmund, You Have the Sexiest Name On the Planet

He stares at me, eyes black and still soulless, "How have you been, since the incident, Melanie?" He asks me quietly. He sat in front of me on the same patient seat, with my seat in front of his.

I remain emotionless, "I've been better. I'd like to thank you again for stopping what could have turned into a worsened situation." I gesture to him, back straight, and laid back on the seat to appear calm and collected when I have wanted to search the room for weeks to see if I could find anything helpful.

He punches the bridge of his nose, "Melanie, you fell off a bookcase from a great height. Look to me as someone you can talk to, was there anything you felt during that fall before I caught you?" He asks me, placing the folder on his desk and holding his elbows on his knees, hands entwined.

I sigh, "Nothing in particular. I didn't think I would fall to my death, just be severely injured. Thank you for catching me." I felt obliged to thank him, given I hadn't yet.

He tilts his head, giving me an undignified look, "I am glad I was there when I was, Melanie. You could have been more than just severely hurt. You do realize that, don't you?" He asks me, sitting up and looking into my eyes, visible concern in his, which could be fabricated.

My jaw ticks, "Yes, I know that. Was anything found on who it might have been?" I ask him, annoyance seeping into my voice like a calculative tornado.

He clenches his jaw. I roll my eyes and stand, stepping away from him and towards the shelves, "Something was found." He sounded angry, hesitant, and almost annoyed.

"Well, are you going to disclose the information?" I ask him behind me, glancing up to the higher level. I place my backside onto the wall, grabbing one of the books on the biological sciences of the human brain. He stays seated where he is.

He looks at me like he usually does, unmasked, where he wears all his emotions on his sleeve. He doesn't hide his obvious attraction, where I manoeuvre my way around it to find answers, not to make it look like I agree with his pathetic fascination.

"Edmund's ID number was used ten minutes after yours. Mine was less than five minutes after his." He says to me. I merely shrug, and he stands where he is, slowly stepping around the couch, I keep my eyes on the page I'm on, looking at the index, to which he doesn't seem to mind.

"The person didn't have the same build as Edmund, Professor Forthright. Did you see the figure?" I ask him, glancing once at him standing in front of me and sitting to the side, his arms contracting on his lap. Instead of wearing a professional suit, he was in a plain grey shirt but business trousers.

I glance up from the page to see him mesmerizing my face, "Professor?" I snap. He shakes his head for a moment.

Before clearing his throat, "I was more preoccupied with saving you." He quietly says, turning back towards the floor, where he almost stares daggers into it.

I narrow my eyes at his profile. His hair was messy atop his head, "So, you didn't see the figure at all, just that the person managed to snap the ladder I was on. They didn't leave until you made yourself known." I close the book, put it back in place, and catch him clenching a fist.

"I should have been there sooner." He whispers under his breath. In his anger, I look at the new book I'm holding with a blank expression, but inside, disgust is my true emotion.

"You believe it to have been Edmund?" I ask, looking to see what expression this will bring. He snaps his head to me, I look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he gets off the table and stands next to me, straightening one of the books on the shelf.