The morning after

1630 Words
The sigh from under my bed should have made me wake, it should have made me scream. But fear had drained every bit of strength out of me, I was too tired to think, too tired to panic, too tired to move. My body gave up before my mind could. Sleep pulled me harder. I remember waking up in the night, and the lamp beside my bed was still on, the room was quiet and calm, then sleep dragged me down again. When I woke up the next time, sunlight was shining through the edges of my curtains, and warm gold light spread across the room. For a few seconds, I lay confused. Then everything came back fresh in my brain. I sat up so fast, my hand flew to my wrist the cut was still there. I grabbed my phone from the socket where I was charging. 11:37 AM. My heart nearly stopped. “No!” I screamed. I had missed work completely. The manager was going to deduct my salary. I jumped out of bed, I nearly fell over my own feet, and I rushed towards the living room. I stopped. I noticed something strange. The roses were gone, I checked the front door where I dropped them, and they were no more. Suddenly, another knock came, three slow knocks. Knock, knock, knock. Cold fear rushed through me again. Then a man's voice came through the door. “Elena.” It was so calm, human, and smooth. My blood turned cold. “Adrian Vale,” I said. He was outside my apartment. I looked down at myself in panic, with messy hair, an oversized night gown, bare feet, and a swollen face from crying. Another knock came. “ Elena, open the door.” I stood there frozen, then I slowly removed the chairs under the handle. Then I unlocked the door with shaking hands. When I opened it, Adrian stood there in a dark charcoal suit. Perfectly clean, calm, no blood in his face and he smelled so nice. No sign of the crash from last night. He looked expensive, powerful, and dangerous. In one hand he held a fancy paper bag from a popular bakery. “You look scared,” he said. “ You came here?” I asked. “You sound surprised.” “How did you know I lived here?” I asked His eyes moved slightly over my face, then behind me to the chairs I placed by the door. “ You ask too many questions instead of greeting.” I should have closed the door, but instead I whispered, “Good morning.” A tiny smile crossed his mouth and he said. “Better.” He lifted the bakery bag. “You missed breakfast,” he said romantically. The smell of warm bread crossed my nose. My stomach growled loudly. His smile grew wider. “May I come in?” The terrified woman’s voice from the phone screamed inside my memory. DON’T LET HIM INSIDE. My throat tightened. “No.” He lifted his eyebrow slightly. “No?” “You can stay there,” I answered. He studied me for a moment. Then, to my surprise, he nodded. “ As you wish.” He stood outside and handed me the bag, my hands shook as I collected it. “I'm sorry about last night,” he said. I blinked, “What?” “The accident,” he said. “That's a better way to describe it.” He dropped his eyes down to my wrist and said, “You were hurt because of me.” “It's just a cut,” I said. “I dislike owing debts.” “I noticed.” He looked at the phone in my hand. “ You missed work.” I was surprised. “How did you know that?” I asked. “You checked the time after opening the door.” I hated how easily he noticed things. “My manager will fire me.” “No, he won't.” Adrain pulled out his phone and typed something quickly. Thirty seconds later, my phone notified me. A message from my manager, I opened. Take the day off. Paid. Rest well. I stared at Adrian. “What did you do?” I asked him. He said, “I solved your problem.” “You had no right.” “I have every right to save and protect you after you save me,” he answered. “That doesn't make sense.” “It doesn't need to.” I stared at him, and he stared back. Then he said softly, “Come with me.” “What?” “Out.” “No,” I said “Yes.” “I don't know you.” “That has never stopped anyone before.” “I'm not anyone.” “I know,” he said I wanted to say no again. But I was tired, hungry, and curious. And there is one thing about him that makes smart choices feel far. “One hour,” I said. “Two.” “One,” he argued. He carried his head up and said, “You bargain so badly.” “One,” “Give me a few minutes, let me quickly freshen up,” I added. I went inside. When I was done, he was still waiting outside. He offered me his arm, I ignored it, and walked past him. His guards opened the car door for me, and I entered like a queen. His car didn't feel like a car, it felt like another world entirely. Soft leather seats, silence, tinted windows, and the AC blowing so cold. He took me to an expensive and popular rooftop restaurant I had only seen online, and I almost turned around the building. “I don't belong here,” I whispered. Adrian came closer and said. “Neither does anyone here. They only pretend to be better.” I laughed even before I could stop myself. We ate while looking over the city. He ordered for me without asking, but annoyingly, every dish was perfect. He asked about my life. At first, I lied, then slowly I told the truth. “I work in a bookstore cafe, my rent was late, and my parents are long gone.” “My dreams have become smaller every day.” He listened so seriously, no one has listened to me before like that aside from my late mom. When I asked about him, he almost said nothing. “Business.” “Travel.” “Work.” I said “You never answered me directly.” “You notice everything,” he replied. “No, I notice you avoid everything” His eyes caught with mine. “That too.” After the launch, he took me to his private heart gallery. Every painting looked expensive enough to pay my rent for years. But Adrian watched me more than the art. By evening, we drove beside the water as the sky turned orange. I almost forgot about last night. Then he parked near the seawall. We came outside and the silence between us changed. “Why me?” I asked quietly. “Why did you come to my apartment?” He looked at the water first and answered. “In a city full of people watching, you were the only one who moved.” “That can't be enough.” “For you maybe,” he replied. “And for you?” He turned to me, close enough for me to see the silver in his grey eyes. “For me,” he said softly, “it was everything.” And he touched my shoulder, and slowly he moved closer, lifted my face, and kissed me. At first, when he kissed me, it was so gentle. Then, he kissed more deeply, softly, slowly, and dangerously. The kind of kiss that made my p***y so wet. We pulled apart from each other and neither of us spoke. He drove me home in silence. At the entrance of my apartment, he took my hands softly. “Elena.” “Yes?” “Don't open the door for anyone tonight.” Cold blood ran through me. “What does that mean?” He let go of my hands and replied “It means goodnight.” Then he entered the car and drove away. I went inside my apartment, and everything felt wrong the moment I stepped inside. It was too cold and quiet. I quickly looked at the door. There were no whispers, no movement, I breathed out slowly. “Maybe the nightmare was over.” “Maybe today has broken whatever madness that started last night,” I said. As I walked into my bedroom, I froze. The woman in white sat calmly at the edge of my bed, and water was dripping from her onto the floor. She slowly lifted her face, this time I saw her face clearly. She was beautiful but dead. I couldn't scream or breathe. She spoke in her voice like water was running down a drain. “You kissed him.” I nearly fell. “What… what are you?” “His first mistake.” Tears filled my eyes. “Please leave me alone.” She shook her head slowly and said “No one leaves him.” Then she placed her hand on her stomach and whispered: “The child he wants….does not belong to the living.” The lamp beside my bed exploded, and the glass flew across the room. I screamed and fell back. When I looked again, she was gone. But on my bedroom wall, written in dripping water were six words: DON’T LET HIM TOUCH YOU AGAIN.
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