some questions because her son is a blank board. Even when I think I’m beginning to see or observe something, he seals himself immediately. Like a damn programmed robot.
Ugh. I need to stop psychoanalysing him. He used to be simple at the beginning; a stalker turned into a kidnapper. Now that I’m reading about his depressive past and witnessing snippets of his kindness, I’m driven into a chaotic mess.
There’s also my despicable loneliness that makes me want to be with him the entire time. After all, he’s the only form of company I can get in this place.
“Do you need something?” Aaron’s deep voice pulls me from my reverie.
I clear my throat. “No, why would I?”
“Because you have been staring at me for at least five minutes.”
“No, I wasn’t.” My voice’s a notch too loud. Too defensive. Too fake even to my own ears. “I was only thinking about some theory I’m reading.”
The sides of his eyes ease as he smiles. My stomach gives a large flip as if planning to puke butterflies. “The fact that you used ‘some’ before theory means you could not care less about the theory you’re reading.” His unearthly smile morphs into a mocking smirk. God, I want to slap him. “I thought we already established that you’re a terrible liar, kitten.”
I release an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You win.”
He gives a cruel devilish almost-smile. The one that says ‘I always win.’
Egotistical bastard.
He goes back to his papers as my fingers twitch to throw the heavy mathematics’ book straight at his head.
My insane thought is halted when his brows furrow at the document in front of him. The more he flips the pages, the deeper his scowl sets in. Whatever he’s reading doesn’t seem to delight him in the least. I would hate to be the one who wrote it. With a jerky movement, he picks a marker and highlights the hell out of the papers.
I twist my neck to the side, trying to get a glimpse. What type of document got him into such a sullen mood?
My lips open to ask him, but I’m wise enough to clasp them shut. If there’s anything I’ve learnt during my stay here is that I should avoid Aaron’s fury.
Yet, I abandon the dull book and stand. He doesn’t look up. I take the chance. With a snail’s speed, I walk towards him.
I smile when I’m at an arm’s length and Aaron continues highlighting the document. I’m actually good at this sneaking game.
Instead of stopping in front of him, I tiptoe behind him. I keep about a metre’s distance for safety and look over his shoulder. The writing is too small.
I inch closer until his cedar scent envelops me like warmth in winter. Oh. God. He smells so good it’s unfair.
My eyes are involuntarily drawn to his back muscles. He discarded his jacket and he’s only in a dark blue shirt. It flatters his wide shoulders to perfection. The memory of being thrown over one of them sends heat through my body. A forbidden fire courses me at his nearness.
And his hair. His damn jet-black thick hair begs me to run my fingers through it.
Oh. My. God.
What the hell are these thoughts? Why am I so hot and tingly and... drawn to him?
No. This is wrong. This is a million per cent wrong. Aaron is the last person I should be attracted to.
Stop! I told you to stop! I scream internally at my body. Yet, my feet keep approaching him. My hand extends to touch his hair.
Do I even want to stop?
I don’t get my answer. Before my fingers make contact with his hair, Aaron clutches my wrist. With a speedy tug and a twist, I end up sitting on something warm. I yelp, closing my eyes. When my eyelids flutter open, I’m greeted with a sardonic almost-smile. Oh no. The warmth is his lap. I’m sitting on his lap.
“Did you honestly think I failed to notice your obvious spying, kitten?” He’s close, so close that his amused words fan my face like an overwhelming breeze.
I twist my wrist in his relentless hold. “L-let me go.” My voice wavers, unconvincing. Do I want him to let go?
You’re well and truly going mad, Mae.
“You should have thought of that before you came up behind me. It’s a dangerous thing to