Bound in ashes

Blood

Damien

The night air was freezing, but the heat emanating from her was frantic.

Her hands slammed into my chest, small fists bunching into the fabric of my shirt as I carried her briskly through the tarmac.

“Put me down.” She muttered, her words' slurry.

“ I have legs, "I can clearly walk," she said.

I didn't answer. I adjusted my grip due to her constant wriggling, sliding one palm firmly under her knees with my arm locked around her lower back.

To keep her heavy dress from tripping us, I pressed both my hands between her thighs.

She froze at the contact, a sharp gasp catching in her throat, and then she stopped resisting.

I threw the rear door and slid her inside the car, ignoring her continuous dizzy yapping.

“Drive." I barked at the front seat, the driver nodded once, and the entourage pulled away from the curb.

The privacy glass cuts us off from the rest of the world.

She twitched continuously, her shoulder slamming against the door, and slumped back into the seat.

Her fingers moved across her arm, rubbing the blood on it.

“Not mine,” she muttered.

Then she looked around, assessing the surrounding situation.

“Great!" she said." “Now I'm being kidnapped.”

No.dinner first? She asked, “I'm starving.”

She let her head fall back onto the seat rest, exhaling like she was profoundly disappointed in the universe.

Her voice softened into a tired mumble, her eyes drifting closed.

The silence in the car grew thick and became suffocating. The smooth purr of the engine vibrates past the floorboards and into the seats.

The dim streetlights from the window flashed across her face, highlighting her throat and the erratic rise and fall of her chest.

Driven by an impulse I couldn't control, I shifted closer. The leather creaked under my weight as I moved closer.

She didn't open her eyes, but her breathing hitched as I leaned across the space separating us.

I could perceive the wine on her dress mixed with her perfume and the hint of blood.

The car jerked forward whilst trying to swerve past an obstacle her body slammed into mine. Our bodies are inches apart and our breathing is faster than usual.

The car slowed as we approached the hotel. I stepped out, and a flash went off, then another

“Handle it,” I said, my gaze lowered as I carried her.

“On it,” the guard said and left to intercept the paparazzi.

I carried her inside, and the hotel lobby fell silent. The hotel staff rushed ahead to open the elevator and I stepped inside.

Inside.

She raised her head slightly.

“At least I get VIP treatment before I die,” she said, chuckling.

Her body slumped back into my arms like she'd accepted her fate.

“You know,” she muttered,” this is pretty well organized for a k********g.

“...five stars for logistics,” her head tipped back. “Minus customer service, of course.”

The elevators chimed, and I carried her into the hall, and the moment we entered the penthouse suite, she pushed herself from me.

Let me go, I can clearly walk. Her heels caught with her dress and she almost fell, her body slamming on mine.

I caught her before she could hit the floor.

She didn't move to pull away she only looked staring deep, with her lips slightly parted, our faces only a few centimeters away, and then she leaned in her eyes still on mine.

“You're very committed to this mysterious a*******n thingy,” she whispered, and she suddenly jerked forward. I turned slightly, but I couldn't avoid it completely.

She vomited all over me, ruining my shoes and shirt.

“Oh," she blinked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“That's unfortunate,” she said.

I walked into the bathroom, turned on the faucets to give her a bath, and brought her a fresh towel.

She had been leaning heavily against vanity.

“Clean yourself,” I said, handing her the towel. She took it without protest and left. I walked over to the wardrobe, pulled out a new shirt and tossed a spare oversized tee for her.

Through the door, I heard the rustling of her heavy dress hitting the floor, followed by the splashing of water as she dipped in the tub.

When I returned, she was sitting precariously on the edge of the bed.

The shirt hung loose on her frame, one shoulder slipping slightly. Her head dipped forward, damp hair falling into her face as she dozed off.

“You going to tuck me in a kidnapper?” she mumbled, her eyes half open.

“I braced a knee over her hips to grab the blanket and her breath hitched instantly. Our bodies were pressed apart in the closed room.