A Wolf in the City

5. Gold and Green Eyes.

RAVEN.

I remain seated after I have successfully changed myself out of the wet clothes I was formerly in as I keep trying to convince my friends about the scene that had happened minutes ago while I keep wishing that the ship would get to its deck already so I can just get myself off of it.

"Flora, I'm not even joking. Why would you girls not believe me over that crazy i***t out there? Does he not seem mad to you girls too? I swear, this man intentionally dropped me into that freezing water!" I almost yell.

Flora rolls her eyes while giving me a smile that tells me that she does not believe anything that I have been saying for minutes now, "I know that you've been having it hard for months now, Raven. With your dad on his sick bed and the debt incurred due to his treatments, coupled with the fact that you're yet to get that job you want so bad, I know how stressful and depressing it has been for you but I do not think committing suicide is the next option, please, don't you ever even do that again. Please." She says to me with a look of concern that even I isn't buying.

I laugh as I brush off her words, but my insides tighten, heat surging through my veins and lighting up my cheeks. Flora is one of “the girls,” and she hasn’t been anywhere close to welcoming. But as I watch her grin and run her fingers through her hair, I wonder if maybe Jackie is right. Maybe it’s all in my head, and I just haven’t given her a chance. I’ve never really had a close group of girlfriends, so I’m not sure how it’s all supposed to work.

And when they suggested that we go on this ship, one that is full of so many influential people, I took it.

Knowing that they would not believe me nonetheless, I kept shut and allowed them to keep talking amongst themselves, soon, I am lost in their midst again, almost as if I am invisible and I had not just gone through something that might have killed me.

Tired of whatever it is that they're talking about, I got up from their midst and started to walk away, I know I need to drink. Suddenly, heat pricks the back of my neck, and I twist where I was standing, an unsettling feeling of being watched washing over me. But when I turn, there’s nothing there.

Odd.

The party life is getting low and soon it is obvious that we are all waiting for the ship to get to its deck so we can all just get off. Whispers flew left and right as I walk past groups of people, obviously about the girl who attempted to commit suicide. I can not help but regret my coming on thus ship in the first place, I wanted connections and I have gotten none. At the end of it all, I have no choice but to wait for the response to the application I have put through for the sixth time.

My vision blurs the slightest bit from the champagne in my hands, and I stumble, slamming into a body. “oh, I’m so sorry.” My hands reach up instinctively, landing against a solid wall of muscle. Rough palms grasp my shoulders, goose bumps sprouting along my skin from the heat of the stranger’s touch.

“You seem to have a knack for clumsiness and tripping.” The familiar deep, accented voice slides across my skin like silk and wraps itself around me, a shiver skating down my spine. His grip tightens, palms moving until they brush my upper arms. My hands are still pressed against his chest, the black fabric of his suit soft under the pads of my fingers.

Licking my lips, I slowly turn around and make contact with a familiar green eyes. Gold and green, clashing together as we stare at each other silently. I feel my heartbeat accelerate as he keeps his unflinching gaze on mine. My stomach twists in knots as I squirm restlessly on the spot. I feel weightless, and a weird feeling encompasses my body. I suck in a surprised breath when I realize that it is butterflies I feel. His presence makes me nervous. Scared. And giddy. My breath stutters as he sucks me into his gaze, his eyes like cerulean glass, an almost haunting chill to their beauty.

I break our stare, finally letting his words filter into my brain. “Excuse me?”

His eyes moves away from mine but only because he is looking at my body. I see his gaze travel down to my waist, hips, and then my legs. My body starts to warm up under his scrutinizing stare. His eyes stayed there for a few seconds before he moves back to my face. The look that he gives me makes me stagger back a step. At my reaction, his lips tilted upward slightly into a small smirk that is hard to see. But it is there. That devilish smirk. Sexy devilish smirk. I shook my head and close my eyes quickly as I try to get myself under control and stand on my own.

"What do you think you're doing looking and staring at me like that, you psychopath?" I ask, anger boiling in me as much as the attraction is.

He looks down at me, not responding, his green eyes piercing my brave front. This would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so beautiful. What’s the point of having such a beautiful face when there’s such a massive ass attached to it? I hate myself for noticing his looks. Of course, he is gorgeous, that must be how he gets away with being such a gigantic prick to everyone. How he gets away with throwing me into that freezing sea and having everyone believe him instead of me. Every woman in this building must have been throwing themselves at him, and he is obviously too arrogant and conceited to even acknowledge it.

He smirks, and I take in his high cheekbones, a natural highlight falling on the sharp angles, contrasting harshly against his jet-black eyebrows and tousled hair. My stomach clenches as I realize just how attractive this man is. His mouth descends until it’s next to my ear, his breath trickling down my neck, making heat spike through my core. “Would you like to gouge my eyes out so I do not stare at you then? Because unless you do that, trust me when I say I'll always stare at you, its my eyes afterall." He says in such cold tone that sends shivers down my spine.

I swallow hard, my heart is beating hard against my ribcage and my palms starts to sweat. My breathing is irregular and I feel like I am suffocating. The psychopath's green eyes is fixed on mine. Gold and green. We stare at each other with a mixture of emotions. Desires. Lust. Hate. Fear. Anticipation. More Fear.

I move away from him as I glare at him. How dare he think he can touch me? I hate him more than I’d known was possible, but right now, I hate myself even more. How can I let my body react like this to him? I want to slap him in the face; but more than that, I like his mouth so close to my neck like that. I'm going crazy.

"You stay away from me as much as you can, stare at me all you want but that's all you'll ever get. You're just a psychopath who probably bursted out of a psychiatry anyways!" I snap at him.

I started to move backwards at the same time that the loud acoustic sound from the ship sounds signifying that we are at deck already. His eyes flare, and the corner of his mouth twitches, but he doesn’t speak again. Just puts his hands in the pockets of his three-piece suit and rocks on his heels. I grab my purse on the cocktail table and throw my jacket on, trying desperately to fasten the button with my trembling fingers. I almost run to the exit of the cruise ship, praying to God I would get there before I have to face him again.

With each step my body reminds me of the events of the last hour. As I get off the ship, I blow out a breath as I try to stem the tremble in my voice. Maybe it’s the champagne, or maybe it’s the man himself.

I do not know but one thing is sure, I do not want to get to see that psychopath ever again.