CHAPTER004
1256 Words
Eleanor's Point of View
I don't remember exactly how long I stood there just watching them, my mind buzzing with static and Freya's angry growls from behind my head becoming less and less noticeable.
Something must have alerted him, because Harrison turned his head slightly and locked onto me over his shoulder with dark eyes that locked onto mine—not bothering to move away from her but instead flickering his gaze up and down my body in disdain before curving his lips again.
"Where were you last night, and what are you wearing?"
Freya growled. My skin tingled as her anger rose and brushed against my skin like an unsettled storm waiting to break loose. If I didn't control myself quickly enough, things might escalate very quickly indeed and likely result in me snapping right here and now and likely snapping her throat out altogether.
"What?" His voice had become harsher and impatient.
My words failed me; my breath went dry; my chest tightened so tightly it felt as if my heart might explode from inside my ribcage.
Harrison shrugged dismissively and shrugged. "Whatever. Doesn't matter. Eleanor's gone. Let it go."
He hit them like a fistful of nails, yet his words still hit like an angry punch to the gut.
"You are nothing more than a person with cognitive disabilities. With your ridiculous hopes of marrying the love of your life and making a career out of painting, as though none of that really mattered—no paycheck came, nothing worth selling—all the while looking ridiculous." Even your appearance was laughable!
He turned away, treating me like nothing, and Beatrice started moaning again beneath him. My vision began to blur as my emotions flared against such cruelty. How could he treat us so coldly?
My bundle of clothes had fallen into disarray. Instinctively, I turned and ran as my heels clicked against the marble floor while gasping for breath as I opened up a stairwell door and attempted to gain entry.
My legs suddenly gave out as soon as I reached the first step.
As I collapsed onto the floor and curled inward, sobs ripped through me like an earthquake rumbling across The Majestic Albion. Even though I was standing firmly on solid ground, I felt as if I were drowning.
As soon as I heard the door open, my attention snapped back up to life, and I leaned against a cold wall, hoping that whoever it was would walk on without stopping to help me out of my misery.
They didn't. A pair of shiny black loafers stopped in front of me, with a crisp white handkerchief hanging at eye level.
I stopped and stared before being surprised when an unfamiliar figure crouched down and gently dabbed at my damp cheeks with their handkerchief.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look upward.
Edmund was my diamond ring giver from last night.
"Are You Alright?" His voice was much softer and friendlier than expected, almost soothing as he tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. I took a deep breath.
Small gestures like that were enough to break me down; my lips began trembling, and then I found myself sobbing again.
Edmund let out a low grunt, yet instead of walking off, he sat next to me and pulled me into his lap. While at first it felt strange being in someone else's lap, its warmth and pine needle and campfire smoke scent quickly wrapped around me to ease some of my chest ache.
Freya felt her spirit rise. Eleanor had long since vanished from Freya's life. Freya thought of how close they'd once been.
I took a sharp inhale of that scent. It had been there all night.
"Did we..." I staggered up to my feet hesitantly and said. My voice trailed off as my words came out shakily.
Edmund smiled, brushing the imaginary lint from his sleeves. "Nothing happened."
I exhaled with mixed feelings: relief and embarrassment.
He laughed again with amusement: "Why are you looking dismayed, little wolf?" His expression sharpened as he addressed her directly:
Blood rushed into my face. "That is not...," I began, before stopping abruptly to clench my fists tighter in shock and surprise.
"I followed your scent," he stated, as though it were something entirely natural. When he realized you were gone, he went searching and happened upon the end of your relationship. His lips curled into an arch as his lips curled into an involuntary curl: "Breakup."
"No need for that," I protested as she spoke.
"Hard to ignore." He looked at me closely before tilting his head slightly and asking, "So... did you also just get dumped?" "Yes. Yes, I guess so."
"Don't come at me like that," I scoffed. You sound arrogant about this.
"Not arrogant; just perceptive."
"Why were you following me anyway? "Are you here to punish me? "I swear that this wasn't planned—it happened by accident!" I fumed. "Why were you following me anyway? Are you here to punish me? I didn't mean to end up here!"
Edmund stood, taking one step forward before closing the distance between us. I took one backward, but his hands already rested near my head and waist, trapping me within.
My heart pounded rapidly as his dark green eyes narrowed before leaning closer. "Do you want to be punished, little wolf?" he demanded of me.
Heat began wracking through my body as my legs instinctively pressed together.
Edmund took a deep breath and then smiled slowly but knowingly across his face.
I wanted to melt onto the floor.
"Don't worry; I won't punish you unless I ask." He moved away, holding onto something.
My breath caught as I glanced down to find that his hands had grabbed onto the black, lacy fabric covering my ripped undergarment, embarrassing me further. "Thanks," I whispered hesitantly, before quickly taking back possession and giving it back as quickly as I could before running off in shameful embarrassment. "Thanks."
"You're welcome to return my shirt whenever you like." His eyes flickered down toward where it hung loosely on my frame. "Though, I must admit, it looks much better on you."
I gulped down, powerless to respond.
Edmund pulled a keycard out of his pocket. "I have a feeling you won't want to return there; feel free to use mine; it won't be needed by me anymore."
"Why are you doing this?" I inquired of him.
"Does it really matter?" His expression suddenly turned unreadable.
An unexpected thought crossed my mind:" Is it true that your bathroom contains a gold toilet?"
Edmund was taken aback when Edmund suddenly asked, incredulous, "What?" Edmund shrugged his shoulders before shaking his head, inquiring, "What?"
"Oh no—forget I asked," I sighed resignedly, shaking my head.
He smiled slowly, amused. "Not at all!" His reply was emphatic: "Of course it does; I expect nothing less."
"Who are you really?" I questioned him.
"That is classified." He laughed, then became serious. "Do you require anything additional besides golden toilets?"
Freya whispered. It is okay for you to ask for something for yourself.
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble... could I please get some canvas and paints?" I hesitated.
Edmund carefully observed me for several moments before handing me the keycard with "Consider it done!" written across it. "Now consider yourself done. Thank you very much."
"Thank you." I tightly gripped my card in my hands and breathed out with gratitude. "Please accept my thank you."
- Writer
