Chapter 25 His hold
"Audrey" his voice deep and low as he uttered my name. The sensation sending shivers down my spine, pleasurably.
Shaking the thoughts away I focused on the here and now which was really difficult. The pang in my chest grew immensely as I looked at him, really looked at him. He looked broken, something dar and sinister brooding in his gaze.
Dropping my gaze to my now intertwined fingers I picked at my nails, trying in vain to calm myself for what I was about to do.
"P-please can I come in?" I asked sweetly, trying my best to give him a small smile even though my insides were twisting with disgust at what I had done. I knew I had an effect on him but I never could have expected it to be this much. My words really hurt him
He stepped back, giving me space to walk inside and when I did I let the air leave my lungs at the catastrophic mess that was his chambers. The chairs had been toppled over, the ancient relics laying on the ground, most of them broken, others dented badly.
Broken glass pieces laying scattered on the floors. The cherubims and angels that were gorgeously illustrated on the ceiling told tales of the horrors they had witnessed. Large hands interlaced with mine, the tingling feeling I had much missed returning.
He led me to the four post king sizes bed that seemed the only thing that was still in place. Sitting us down he slipped his hands away from mine, my skin growing cold without the warmth he provided.
Adjusting a bit further away I settled close to the head piece of the bed. The strange feelings I kept getting making me uncomfortable. This couldn't still be guilt, could it?
"I'm sorry for the mess love" he apologized, refusing to meet my gaze.
"I-its okay" I answer meekly, feeling stupid for how much I struggled to get the words I wanted to say out. "I-uh the bed is still intact" I mentioned stupidly
He smiles a little, the joy in his eyes twinkling a bit, "I couldn't bring myself to destroy the only thing that reminded me of the nights I spent dreaming about you" he spoke sincerely, honestly as he gazed into my eyes.
It was like I found it harder to take in oxygen. Gazing away I nibbled on my lower lip. "I-im sorry" I apologized looking back to see he was still staring at me. His eyes had widened a bit, only for a crease to form between his brows.
"For what love?" He asked, studying me carefully as if his eyes would read my mind.
"F-for not thinking before I said what I did. I realise now how much my words affected you and I want to apologize. I should have been more careful with my words. I never meant to hurt you Darius"
Looking back at him I could see the dullness in his eyes lifting as he just gazed at me like I was some gift from the gods, something to be cherished and adored.
Getting to my feet I uncomfortably fiddled with my hands. The room floated with silence for a while, Darius not saying anything and me just wishing the ground could open and swallow me whole.
A light gasp left my lips at what happened next. Large hands wrapped around my body, one going to my waist and the other going into my hair to hold my head firmly to his chest.
~
Wrapping the working yarn around my left index finger, and holding it at the back of the left needle I insert the point of right needle from front to back into the first cast-on stitch on the left needle, opening up a stitch.
Hand knitting was the one thing I picked up from my mother before everything went dark. My little form wrapped in her arms she'd hold me close, whispering sweet lullabies in my ears as she twisted the yarn around her index finger, knitting me a new sweater. When she'd think I was sleeping she'd stop singing and just sit there, knitting. I could feel something was wrong, her energy was low, her eyes distant, troubled. I only now realise she was going through so much at the time. I was a child, innocent, naive, oblivious to everything going wrong around me.
I always wondered why she prefered knitting alone most of the time. She'd sit perched on the garden swing, knitting away as the birds sang songs of cheer. Whenever I'd come up to her she would seem so lost, invested in the movements of her hands, they were distracting that much I could understand but anything else I had no idea.
It was kind of comical how everything she had told and warned me about were playing right now in my life, in my current situation. I find myself doing things I never once thought I'd do. Now I understood why mother was always knitting, it was calming, relaxing.
It calmed all my buzzing thoughts and reckless emotions. It was one of the things that made me feel connected to her in some way. It was the only thing I picked up from her that was a choice of mine to pursue. It somehow kept me in the moment as I tried to string out my jumbled thoughts.
I could still feel his hold on me, the places he had touched me still tingled in rememberance to his hands although large held me with such tenderness.
I had expected to feel pain shoot through my body at the way he lunged at me but instead I felt warmth, comfort and a strange sense of satisfaction as my skin crawled with the rippling sensations he caused.
My muscles tensed for a while, his hold growing tighter and his movements more intimate. For a while I just stayed there, feeling rooted to my spot. After a while I felt my muscles relax as I gave into his hold.