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The girl paused, taking but a moment to peer over the railing. Noticing that they were actually pretty high from the ground, unfortunately. She wouldn't be able to jump. Not without breaking a limb or even her neck. So she turned and walked back into the room, casting a furtive glance at her jailor. Noticing him lying there like a rebellious teen, totally uncaring about the fact that he was creasing his expensive-looking shirt and pants. Playing on that console as if he was completely alone in the room.
Her hands clutched at her dress, for a moment feeling so lost and unsure of what she should do. Was she to stand there like a statue? Try and beg for him to let her go? She still didn't want to find out what angering him would lead to. She was still so very scared of being alone in here with him. Especially now that she was suspecting that he had tampered with her mind.
She walked to the nearest fauteuil, plopping her butt in it. Her gaze ever-so-discreetly trailing in his direction. Watching him so closely, taking notice of his every little movement. The tiniest twitch of his fingers. She wanted to be aware in case he decided to jump from his seat and approach her again.
He thankfully didn't. Spending several good minutes on that console, and doing such an outstanding job at ignoring her presence altogether. Or pretending to, anyway. She didn't mind. In fact, she seemed to rather prefer that. Anything to keep his attention averted from her.
But she kept growing bored. With every minute that passed. There was nothing to do, except from sitting there and staring at him. Watching him play so animatedly on that stupid console. Her bum was starting to grow numb. But she didn't dare move from her seat, or even shift for that matter. Staring back at him with nothing but growing anxiety. Why had he even demanded of her presence, if he was going to ignore her anyway? What was his plan behind all this? What did he even want from her? She debated whether to ask or not. Demand for an answer to all this. But she was still so afraid of him, with Wolf's words constantly hanging over her head like a cloud. Do not anger him.
What was she supposed to do then? Sit still for the rest of her life in that chair? Wait for him to finish playing so that she could try and converse with him at least? She would've definitely loved for a book right now. Or even her phone. Anything to keep her mind occupied and away from her current situation.
There were books in this room. A full wall of them, actually. But the only issue was that they were situated right behind his lounge chair. And she was definitely not about to do that. Walk through the room and turn her back to him, that is. She was way too afraid of making a noise. Or even breathing too close to him. What if he tried to grab her? What if he got annoyed by the mere fact that she was disturbing his silence?
"Have at it. You can pick one if you want to,"
She jolted at the sound of his masculine voice suddenly echoing through the room after so many minutes of utter silence, her hands tightly clutching at the fauteuil's armrests. Blinking as she stared back at him. He didn't move from his spot. Keeping his attention trained on the console's screen.
"I am not going to bite you if you do," he added, his fingers deftly shifting over the joysticks and buttons. The rest of him lounging so relaxed.
She hesitated, her gaze longingly trailing from him to the vast bookshelf behind his lounge seat. She really wanted to. She wanted to move from that chair. Grab something she could at least entertain herself with. She had already grown so numb and bored. But she was still too wary of him. She didn't want to walk that close to him. Damn. She felt like a little lamb trapped in the cage of a lion. Anxiously waiting for the moment of his impending attack.
"Go ahead and pick, dulcet. Don't be shy," he coaxed, his tone soft and even.
She swallowed, her hands twitching over the armrests. Gathering her courage. And with a mild push against the armrests she finally rose up to her feet, exhaling a shaky breath. She kept her gaze trained on him the entire time, closely watching for any movement from his part as she darted straight towards that wall filled with books. He didn't shift from his spot. Nor he shifted his gaze to peer at her.
She exhaled a little, approaching the shelves before she started to peruse them. Going over several titles. She threw him another furtive glance. Making herself sure that he still hadn't moved from his spot. And then she resumed to her perusal. Searching for a title attractive enough to capture her attention. But there were so many, of various different themes and subjects.
She traced her fingers over the spines, feeling the outline of those letters engraved into them.
Hades and Persephone, one of them read. She curled her finger over it and pulled it out, taking it into her hand.
"Interesting choice," Her breath audibly hitched into her throat at the sound of his masculine voice uttering those words into her ear, her body jolting as if being zapped by an electric current. She almost dropped that book from her hand.
She immediately clutched it so tightly to her chest, her heart banging fast against it. He was standing way too close. She could feel him. The unbearable heat of his body burning into her skin. His breaths against her shoulder. When did he move?!? And why was he standing so close to her now? What did he want?
She was so scared. She didn't like this. What was he doing this close to her? What was he planning to do?
She quickly turned around, preparing herself to try and fight him if he tried anything funny. Smack him with that book or something. But the very moment that she noticed that hand raising at her side her eyes widened, a tiny little sound escaping her as she screwed them shut. Hands clutching at that poor book as she violently shook. No. She was way too afraid. She was even about to start begging for him not to hurt her, cry and fall to her knees the very moment that he touched her.
Except that it didn't happen. Nothing happened, as a matter of fact.
She peeled one eye open at first, surprised to notice him standing before her with another book in his hand. Intently peering down at her.
"I believe this will also be of your taste," he gently offered it to her, patiently waiting for her to take it.
She could feel her cheeks heating up, growing a little embarrassed by her own childish reactions.
Eros and Psyche, the title read as she lowered her gaze to the book in his hand, making her shift it back up to peer into his hypnotic blue eyes.
She knew what that story was about. It was about a god, the god of love falling in love with a beautiful mortal.
Her brows furrowed a little. Curiously staring up between his eyes. She grabbed the book nonetheless.
"W-why are you doing this?" She found herself quietly uttering.
"What do you even want from me?"
She watched him express the hint of a smile, a set of dimples making their appearance into his cheeks.
"I am merely curious,"
She stupidly stared up at him, blinking.
"I wish to know you, little mortal," he added with a shrug, earning himself a weird look from her.
"B-but why? Nicholas said that-" she abruptly stopped herself before she could even finish that sentence, her cheeks heating up once again. Damn. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"That I despise mortals?" He mirthfully questioned. She blushed even harder.
"Yes. I do. I have for a very long time," he shoved his hands into his pants' pockets, his gaze trailing over her once again. From head to toe.
She thickly swallowed, pressing herself further into those shelves behind her back as she hugged those two books close to her chest. Somehow trying to protect herself from him. She didn't like this. How close he was. The way that he was looking at her. It made her feel cornered. Helpless. Not to mention that his body actually looked like it could do some serious damage, god or not. He was packed with muscles, from his neck and all the way down to his ankles. That light blue dress shirt was hugging his torso so snugly, outlining those bulging muscles in his arms, his pectorals. The same went for his lower half, making him look so incredibly intimidating. Tall, large and menacing.
She felt so small. Feeble under his scrutinising stare.
"What is your name, dulcet? You haven't given me your name," he asked after a moment, his tone soft. Levelled.
"D-Diana. Diana Rose," she stuttered out, her knees lightly shaking underneath that dress. Staring up at him like the frightened little lamb she was.
She watched his expression morph from that focused and calculating look to a visibly stunned one, staring back at her as if he was just seeing her for the first time in his life. She didn't like it. It made her feel so restless. Scared out of her mind.
And the very moment that he stepped towards her she let out a loud scream, dropping those books in the process.