Gabriel’s home
978 Words
Gabriel remained silent throughout the entire drive. His calmness filled the vehicle more than any words could have. Each time I stole a glance at him, his expression was unreadable eyes locked on the road, hands steady on the wheel.
When we pulled up to his mansion, I smirked.
“Why are we here?” I asked gently.
He turned off the car before replying. “Your parents are away for an urgent meeting. Your mother asked me to look out for you.”
I blinked in surprise. “I’m twenty-one, Gabriel. I’m not a child. I can stay alone at home.”
He looked at me then, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Maybe.”
A slight curve appeared on his lips not quite a smile, but nearly. “Don’t do that again.”
I sighed, realizing he was serious. “Fine.”
“Good,” he replied simply, stepping out of the vehicle.
The cool air outside felt heavy with the smell of rain-soaked grass. His house or rather, his fortress towered above us, with tall glass walls and dark edges. It reflected everything he was icy on the surface but tormented within.
He opened the door, motioning for me to enter first. “Come in. I’ll show you to your room.”
Once inside, everything was modern, sleek, and lavish. The kind of place that resembled more of an art gallery than a home.
As we went up the staircase, I felt a chill prickling my skin. Perhaps it was the air conditioning. Perhaps it was something else.
He stopped at a door on the left and opened it.
“This will be your room for the night,” he stated softly as his eyes went through my boobs my n*****s were pointed on my light gown. “There’s a bathroom in there. You can take a hot shower.”
I nodded, trying to suppress my nervousness.
He handed me a white towel and a neatly folded dress new, still tagged dress. “I had them delivered earlier. They should fit you.”
“You bought clothes for me?”
“I expected the rain.”
My mouth fell open, but I couldn’t communicate the right response. He always seemed to know what was going to happen before it did.
“Once you’re done, come downstairs,” he said, his tone softer now. “There’s food if you’re hungry.”
Then he quietly closed the door behind him.
The room was too quiet. I stood there for a moment, staring at the towel in my hands, attempting to steady my racing heart.
Under the soothing water, time finally began to slow down. The warmth enveloped my skin, but it couldn’t quiet my thoughts. Gabriel’s voice, his gaze, his calm behavior it all replayed in my mind like a film I couldn’t stop.
Why did he make me feel this way?
Safe yet restless at once.
After I finished, I slipped into the dress. It was soft, perfectly fitted almost too perfectly. As if he had accurately predicted my size.
I took a deep breath and made my way downstairs.
Gabriel was in the living room, leaning against the fireplace, sleeves rolled up, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The hint of firelight illuminated his face in gold and shadow.
He noticed my footsteps and looked up. His gaze swept over me once slow and intentional before he returned to his drink.
“Did the shower help?”
“Yes,” I replied, my voice softer than I intended.
“Good.” He gave a sign toward the sofa. “Have a seat.”
I backed down, feeling oddly anxious under his quiet presence.
He poured another glass and handed it to me. “Just take one sip.”
I paused. “You think I can’t handle more?”
“I think you’ve had quite a day,” he remarked simply.
I offered a faint smile and took a small sip. The flavor stung but was comforting.
He observed me for a moment. “At times, you remind me of your mother.”
I frowned in response. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Not in that way. You possess her spirit. But your eyes…” His words faded away. “They’re nothing like hers.”
I inhaled sharply. “Then whose are they?”
He met my gaze directly. “Your father would like to believe they’re his. But they aren’t.”
I gaped at him, my heart racing. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing you’re ready to understand yet.”
The atmosphere between us thickened again charged, tense, electric.
He placed his glass down and stepped closer, stopping just a few paces away. I felt the warmth radiating from him, smelled the slight mix of smoke and rain lingering on his clothes.
“You should get some rest,” he said softly. “It has been a long day.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
Then he looked at me truly looked and for an instant, his beginning slipped. There was a fierce power behind his calm behavior, something that frightened me and yet pulled me closer at the same time.
“Go upstairs, Lila,” he said at last, his voice low, almost rough.
I wanted to counter, to inquire about what he was concealing, why he regarded me as if he were battling with himself. But instead, I nodded and headed toward the staircase.
Midway up, I paused and cast a glance back.
He remained there, by the fire, his gaze fixed on me. The kind of look that conveyed everything he’d never dare to voice.
And in that instant, I realized one thing for certain Whatever was happening between us.
- Writer
