One Step Closer
1203 Words
Rachelle's POV
The breeze danced in my hair as I sat outside my balcony, hair in a messy ponytail with a cup of sizzling hot coffee in my hand, while I stared at the god business card.
It had been two days now but I still hadn't made the call. What's the rush? I'll need to make myself unforgettable and this is one of the processes needed.
I stood to my feet, my robe dropping off one shoulder and I walked back into my apartment.
“It's been revealed that the apparent heir to Hilton Empire, George Hilton, will make an appearance tonight at the Holder's Charity event, making it his first appearance at the event after his return from studying abroad”
Oh, just the perfect opportunity, the perfect timing and what better world to thank than that of the internet's?
I quickly dashed to my wardrobe, but one picture had me freeze.
It wasn't supposed to end like that. I was blessed with the opportunity to enjoy them for years unend but then that viper had to cut that opportunity short.
I took in deep shaky breath, pushed open my closet door, and released my breath.
This is what I've spent years planning, now it was time for me to execute it. I'll bring you down, Hilda, even if your entire house crumbles with you.
I quickly rushed past the entire covered wall, and each step in took deeper into my closer made it feel like I was walking through some memory fog.
Reaching for a black fitted dress, I took out other accessories and begun to get ready. Spritzing some perfume and taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I took my clutch and walked out of my apartment.
******
It was glamorous.
Oh I loved the rich people, never one to hide their luxury.
I walked on the red carpet, heels sounding like nail against ice, and the camera flashes bright like the sun.
My eyes scanned through the entire set of photographers and all eyes were on me, but my eyes caught one perculiar one at the end of the hall.
Dressed in a sharp black suit and hair styled back, his skyblue eyes were even more conspicuous. With a tilt of head, his eyes met mine, and for some reason I found myself getting hot and unable to meet his stare.
After walking off the carpet, I rushed to bathroom, took a deep breath in and saw my heated cheeks.
“It's alright. It's just for a while and then you have nothing more to do with him”
I tried, but it felt like my inside took some kind of drug. The feeling of calm anxiety rushed to me and so did anger and confusion.
“Why are you getting worked up over a guy that means nothing?! They destroyed your life, Rach, so get your act together”
The last deep breath I took before my insides settled.
I applied a little powder, spritzed some more perfume and walked out like nothing happened–chin high and shoulders back.
The clatter of people filled my ears, coupled with the sound of glass wares.
“Good day, Miss” I turned and saw a waiter holding up a champagne occupied tray. “Master asked that it'd be brought to you”
I glanced around and saw George, surrounded by people who seemed engrossed in a conversation that should rightfully involve him, but his blue eyes never left mine.
I picked up the glass, muttered a ‘thank you’ and stared at him straight in the eyes, while downing my drink.
With each moment that passed, I felt the room closing in on me–actually on us, and soon the buzzing of people began fading.
I bit the inside of my lips to stop the daze, but the intensity increasing in his eyes the longer it stayed on me, made my middle ache.
I couldn't bear it anymore, so using my back while reluctantly breaking our eye contact, I left the hall filled with chaos of people–most particularly, George.
The spaces outside the hall was dead silent and illuminated with dimmer lights.
The hallway had series of doors, to which I turned the knob of one, with brought me to a dark room.
The smell of lavender hit my nose as I walked in and closed the door behind me.
Using my hands to feel the wall, I found that light switch and turned it on. The entire room was just covered in six seatter sofas, all black.
“Maybe it's the waiting room?” I gasped as I heard the doorknob turn, causing me to turn and I saw the door push open.
“Seren” I tried taking in a deep breath to settle my stupid excited insides, but it got hooked right in my throat.
“George” The only word I manage to croak out despite my internal war.
“You look beautiful” He complimented, causing me to smile a bit, but the roaming of his eyes along my body made me shift my weight.
I was getting self conscious!
“You alright?” I looked up to see George's questioning and pointed gaze, and I cane to the realization that my forehead was creased.
I mean, yes, it definitely had to be. What do you mean he is making me self conscious? Him?!
I stared at him to see his eyes glancing at my body and resting just at my neck. That stupid ache came back again, but this time, stronger and more demanding.
“You didn't call” He started, eyes still on me as he moved closer, leaving only an inch gap between us.
“You're too close” I gulped heavily, as I felt my senses getting overrid by his sandalwood scent, and my eyes rested on his neck too.
“Is that a problem?” I looked up to him, and my insides felt like it reached its end when he looked back at me with heated eyes.
I fisted my hand. This was the third attempt at taking a deep breath with this man in this proximity but it failed…
How am I supposed to use him when I can't even breath properly when he's around?
“I want you to meet someone” I blinked, coming out of my self doubt reverie and without waiting for me to speak, he took my hands in his and began walking off.
His hands were soft, a little bit rough, but soft. It felt foreign, like something I had forgotten the feel of.
Since my parents passed, my hands had never received warmth from another's.
Handshakes were different. This was different.
“Mother, pease, meet Serenity. Serenity, my mother, Hilda Hilton”
My eyes began to feel watery, and the images begun to blur, as I looked at the woman I had been saving up for years to meet, and only one question passed my mind as I glanced at George–
Why did you have to be the son of the same woman I want to destroy? The same woman I hate?
- Writer
