The Story of Blood and Roses Chapter 132 I'm Listening

I woke up in a strange bed, magically having changed my clothes. The silken texture of the bed sheet felt cool against my skin. I fisted it, trying to remember where I had seen the black sheet before in my state of grogginess. The bed dipped beside me, startling me. Sleep left me completely and I became aware of my surroundings. At a distance, I could see the stained gla.s.s changing room inside Anthony's room. I could see the familiar falls and feel the heat on my back.

I rolled to the other side and saw the mischief maker, right beside me. He was fast asleep and looking more handsome than ever. His mouth was slightly parted and he was snoring. I chuckled as I scooted away from him and looked him over. He had one hand over his crotch while the other hand was behind his head. And he looked handsome, in a human way.

"What are you staring at?" the sneaky b.a.s.t.a.r.d spoke.

"I'm a bit disturbed to see you grab your crotch in your sleep," I replied, calmly.

"There is nothing abnormal about groping your own genitals, Mia," he mumbled as he turned to face me. His eyes were still closed. His hands were now firmly placed under his head.

"That is exactly the source of my distress, Anthony," I whispered as if uttering a confession.

"Why?" he breathed.

"There's nothing normal about you, Anthony," I told him softly. He scoffed, opening his eyes a bit. He squinted at me, unwilling to hurt his eyes because of the light. A crooked grin spread across his lips as he looked at me. I found myself rolling to my side so that I was closer to him. My position mirrored his. He smiled sweetly, then. And we just stayed there, staring at each other.

"I wonder if you realize that you do that every time we are around people." He broke the silence. I gave him a questioning look. He obliged, kindly. "You call me Anthony whenever someone is around," he told me confidently. I laughed out loud, feeling ashamed that he had figured it out. "But what has gotten you wound up, now?"

"Nothing," I a.s.sured him.

"Bulls.h.i.+t. What has gotten your panties in a twist? Why are you calling me Anthony?" My eyes widened as I recognized the contrast. Insecure and overwhelmed, I pulled up from my position and leaned back into the headboard of the bed.

"I don't react well to unfamiliar places," I retorted, sensing the hardening of my voice. I was defensive and rightfully so.

"I did tell you that you could always crash here, right?" he chuckled.

"Why am I here, Anthony?"

"Michael," he corrected, immediately. I felt his hand making its way to my thigh and placing it on bare skin. I stared at him in shock as he smiled at me. "I'm just making sure that you don't run away."

"Yes, a palm would hinder my plans to leave you." I rolled my eyes and went forward to push off the sheet that covered my legs. As I tried to move away, I heard him speak in the softest voice. I froze in place and listened intently.

"And now good-morrow to our waking souls, which watch not one another out of fear; for love, all love of other sights controls, and makes one little room an everywhere."

"Donne?" I choked out. I was rewarded with silence. I could feel his palm. It barely grazed the side of my thigh, but it scorched my skin. I fisted the sheet in my hand and went over the words through my head.

"That's what you do when you are with me," he told me in a speculative tone. "You build this little s.p.a.ce where you can only imagine the two of us there... it's a fantasy of yours, isn't it? A microcosm. A world within a world." My head snapped around and I stared at him. He stared right back at me. He tried to lure me with one of those challenging looks of his. I might have glared, but I couldn't help but fascinate over the fact that he could quote Donne without having to think much about it.

"You really think that you are important, don't you?" I asked him.

"I am important, and you love me because of that." I scoffed on his face. My retort made his smile falter. I smiled, overjoyed that I had gotten a reaction out of him—however small it had been.

"You're sorely mistaken if you think I'm going to fall for that," I told him with the best smile I had up my sleeve. He stared at me for a moment, frozen to the spot in the bed.

"What do you think we're doing, Mia?" his voice was low and almost menacing. I could feel a s.h.i.+ver crawling up my spine.

"You tell me, Anthony," I asked him calmly. His eyes narrowed as he glared at me. His lips dipped down in a frown as he scrutinized my face.

"I thought I made it clear that I like you." I might have rolled my eyes at that. He pushed up on all four and neared me. His gait was that of a predator. I tried to move away, but he grabbed onto my hand and pulled me back. "Listen to me," he whispered forcefully. Despite my instincts, I quit my protests and stayed put.

"I'm listening," I a.s.sured him in a tight voice, but both of us knew that it. I was mostly lying. I was trying my best to break his control over me and take the fastest route out.

"Look at me," he commanded. I followed wordlessly and turned to him. My legs were curled under me, my hands in his grasp as he kept me from falling over the edge of the bed. It was a thin line, the moment he let me go, I would topple over, yet I was just sitting there, wondering what would happen next.

"I am." He shook his head.

"No, you're not."

"What else do you want me to do?" Incredulous, I could hear my voice rising.

"I need you to stop thinking and look at me." I could almost feel my anger drop. My hands felt numb inside his and I felt the urge to pull away grow stronger than ever. "We need to figure out what we are doing, Mia."

"I have been asking you the same thing!"

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