She's Mine

Chapter 41

Lua POV:

The moment I felt Grayson's body move, felt his breathing stir as he finally began to wake up, I instantly closed my eyes and turned my head slightly to the side, to make it seem like I was asleep. 

Coward. Coward. Coward. 

That's all I was when Grayson was concerned. I didn't want to face him, I didn't know what to say or do. I just didn't want any awkwardness, but with his face pressed against my chest, his body slightly on top of me and his arms wrapped around me - I was certain tension was going to arise. 

Perhaps it was wrong of me to not want to face him now, watch him probably realise what he had done, the emotions he revealed when he usually liked to keep them hidden and regret it. 

I didn't want reality to hit; find out that last night was just a slip; he didn't mean to come seek me out and that I really meant nothing of significance. 

He likes you.

I felt myself jerk at that. And sent a curse to Melione for plaguing me.

But the words resonated through me and my eyes snapped open, new confidence taking root; I wasn't all too sure if this was a good thing. If what was said was true then I needed to stop being such a coward, I needed to stop running away. 

There was no backing out now because as I turned my head, I was greeted by a pair of golden eyes. His raven hair mussed from sleep and my fingers threading through them, his lips rosy and cheeks slightly pink. And I felt all the heat rush right back in, warming every inch of my body, which immediately became scorching when I felt his body almost completely on top of mine, and arms still wrapped around my waist. 

It was silent. Too silent. And I hated it - what was he thinking? Why wasn't he speaking? Was he thinking of a way to shut me down? What was going through his head?

In order to keep myself from screaming out in frustration, I began - "Good morning," 

*(IN CASE SOME WERE WONDERING - THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MORNING BREATH HERE)*

He was quiet for a moment before he replied back, "Good morning," 

"How are you feeling?" 

I watched the emotions swirling in his eyes tremble, as he looked away, perhaps trying to hide it, felt his arms tighten around my waist. 

I was going through hyperthermia. 

But I pushed aside the intense heat I was experiencing, by the look of his eyes, he still needed someone. And I would be right here. 

Blocking out the mental screaming, I reached up and cupped his face with my hands, watched as his eyes snapped back to me, then dropping to my lips as I whispered - "It's going to be okay," 

I knew from experience. 

His face flickered, "No it won't," 

My voice was stronger this time, "Yes, it will, Gray. I know," 

The resolve in my voice must have swayed him because I felt the sadness simmer down, although not completely, and I wasn't expecting it too. Wounds didn't heal overnight. 

There was suddenly a new light in his eyes, one that only was meant to stir trouble, as he cocked his head, - "You never called me 'Gray' before," 

Flustered, I look away - "I'm pretty sure I have," 

A single eyebrow raised, as his lips tugged upwards - "Really? I'm pretty sure you haven't," 

I drop my hands, as my flushes an embarrassing shade of pink. I tried to ignore the fact that his face dropped slightly as I lost contact with him, but I couldn't deny the fact that it made my heart thunder and explode butterflies within me. 

He likes you. 

So I breathed in, gathering and rallying all my courage - "Grayson...I-," 

But the King of the West was already standing up and running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room, at the weapons lying like litter around the outskirts and the clothes draped on whatever piece of furniture that could be seen. 

"Your room is messier than I thought it would be," Grayson said, perhaps not hearing what I had started before. 

"You expected tidiness and order?" 

"I expected order, yes. You always seemed like you had everything under control; you know exactly what you're doing, exactly what you want to be doing," 

A slight sense of surprise overtook me at his words; I hadn't realised I seemed so composed.

He must've sensed the shock since his eyebrows raised in question, "You didn't realise? Your eyes are like stones most of the time, I never know what's going on inside that pretty head of yours," 

"The same could be said for you. It drives me mad that I never know what your thinking," the words slipped out before I could think about it and I watched Grayson's eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but it washed away as he glances at me with a slight wolfish grin on his face. 

"Drives you mad?" 

I was sitting up now, shoving the anxiousness and cowardice to a dark place where it could not get in my way. I had to do this before it really did drive me to insanity. 

"I want to know what you're thinking, what your feeling. I want to be there for you, but I never know what's rattling through your head,"

He was staring at the ground, his eyes hard, his stance rigid. 

I felt my insides squeeze with anxiety at his expression. Was Melione wrong? 

"Gray, talk to me," For some reason, my hand reached for his - seeking for something, anything to tell me what he was thinking. 

But the moment my fingers touched his skin, he jerked away and I felt the beginning of a pit yawn beneath me as realised that everything I had been told, everything I was starting to believe was perhaps wrong. 

"Don't. There's a line," Grayson muttered, and I nodded - my mind replaying over the times he had made it seem like he cared. I didn't understand why he did it.

But now I knew. Now I knew what was truly going on inside his head, and what he felt. 

I pushed myself to the edge of the bed and stood up, ignoring Grayson as I walked towards the toilet, picking up the clothes that I had left draped on a chair on my way there; feeling my thawing heart ice over with every step. 

"I'm taking a shower," I said, not realising how hard my voice had sounded, "Feel free to leave," 

And with that I shut the door behind me, not turning to look at him. 

I was a fool. 

He was the King of the West and I was the enemies daughter; it was naive of me to think anything otherwise.