CHAPTER 6
She watched as the long haired man spoke on the phone with who she assumed was Marc or Steven.
He had yet to speak to her.
He clearly trusted her not to attack him or be any real threat since she was sat in this room alone with him and unrestrained.
She'd been grabbing some treats for her and her neighbour at a nearby convenience shop as a thank you for all he'd done for her.
As she walked home, a cloth had been forced over her nose and mouth; she didn't even have a chance to struggle.
She had to say, however, she was grateful that they'd gone with that and not with a whack to the head or something...
The headache she had was probably significantly less than it could've been.
"So, sorry for my rudeness, Y/N. Just had to make a call." He said, shaking her phone before sliding it into his pocket.
The painter remained silent, crossing her legs.
He hummed and his lips quirked up at her attitude.
Switching his cane to the other hand, he reached into the pocket that didn't hold her phone and pulled out her necklace by its delicate gold chain.
It dangled from his long fingers and swung gently from side to side like a pendulum.
She chewed her cheek and dug her nails into her palms to school any instinctual reaction to grab it from him.
"You got this from your father, didn't you?"
No reply.
"Your mother told you to always wear it, didn't she?" He pressed.
No reply.
He took the entirety of the necklace in his fist and clenched it, bringing in to his forehead and closing his eyes.
It was as though he had some sort of silent reverence for the item.
"Did she ever- did she ever tell you how the necklace worked?"
"Worked?" She questioned before she could stop herself.
He smirked more fully now that she was invested.
The sly smile held something else... some other emotion she couldn't grasp... pride?
Why would he be proud?
"Were you upset, Y/N? When you saw it was missing... did you mourn it? The only piece of your father that you'd stored away. Did you feel guilt? All these feelings and you didn't even know it had a purpose."
"How do you know so much about it?"
He shook his head.
"Not yet."
She tilted her head in intrigue.
"Why not?"
He didn't answer.
He put his cane under his armpit and took the necklace between his thumb and index finger of both hands.
Y/N had forgotten how alluring it was; it almost hypnotised her as he walked slowly towards her.
That same tingling sound from his exit at the museum was increasing with each step he took.
She fought the urge to flinch away, maintaining her confident position sat on the chair.
The stranger stopped directly in front of her.
"Chin up."
She looked up at him and he took a moment to absorb the details of her face.
"Beautiful." He sighed.
She blinked.
He slipped the necklace over her head. She let him.
Brushing her hair out from under the chain, he watched the necklace settle and walked backwards.
Her heart beat slowed like the necklace calmed her. It was like a piece of her that had been missing was back where it was meant to be.
"You keep wearing that now," he warned and she nodded imperceptibly, looking down and admiring it, "I'll be in touch."
Her head whipped up at that but he had already gone out the door, her phone left on a shelf next to it.
Tucking the pendant into her shirt, the cool gold against her chest making her shiver, she rushed to the door which was locked.
She yanked repeatedly on the handle forcefully but to no avail. She grunted and kicked it in frustration.
What she was unaware of was the man watching her on a screen in disappointment, walking away with his entourage and telling them to be patient.
She retrieved her phone... which had ran out of charge... and groaned.
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It seemed like hours later when she heard footsteps in what she assumed to be a corridor outside the door.
In reality, it had been about half hour.
She peered up from her position curled in the corner to see the handle jiggling and heard mumbled swears.
After some murmuring that sounded like an argument... even though she was certain that there was only one person... there was a weird rustling sound that she couldn't assign to anything.
She stood, sliding her back up the wall, remaining as tight to the corner as she could.
A series of loud bangs that dented the door startled her and she put her fists up in what she hoped was a threatening manner...
It probably looked pretty pathetic really.
Eventually, the door flew off the hinges and she shielded her face with her arms from the dust that became displaced.
When it cleared, she shifted her gaze to the perpetrator... she wasn't ready for what was in front of her.
A man. A man in a white three-piece suit. A man in a white three-piece suit, white gloves and shoes... and a white mask.
His eyes glowed supernaturally.
She gaped as her brain tried to keep up with what was going on.
Her possible saviour took off his jacket and rushed towards her.
By the time she'd snapped herself out of it, his jacket was on her shoulders and he had her face between his gloved hands.
"Y/N!"
She knew that voice...
"Steven?"
Though whatever mask he wore prevented facial expressions, his eyes seemed to light up.
"Oh, thank God. You're alright, you're alright." His mask disappeared into thin air.
"How-"
"I'll explain- or, well... try to explain... when we're home, OK?"
Home... yeah...
He moved his hands down to cradle the back of her head and nape of her neck. His eyes darted to her lips and he shuffled closer.
Her eyes returned the gesture in kind and she leant into his body.
She sucked in a breath as their mouths connected, tenderly like before.
A tear trailed down her cheek.
This time, they didn't keep the kiss at that level.
Fisting his shirt in a plea to not let go just yet, he began to deepen the kiss, backing her to the wall and putting his thigh between her legs.
She moaned quietly and he smiled into the kiss.
Teeth and tongues clashed, hair was pulled, chests heaved...
They couldn't direct their attention to anything but eachother.
Everything else was forgotten in those few seconds.
It was like they were the only two people to exist in the whole world...
Eventually they had to break apart for breath; their sweaty foreheads rested against one another in reluctancy to part fully.
"C'mon. Let's go home." He whispered.
Home...