Hush, My Sweet Darling

Chapter 5: Beautiful Painting

Kingsley Hotel, 5:55 PM

Not long after the black Maybach drove away from the Kingsley hotel, a black Jeep Grand Cherokee filled its absence on the hotel's porte-cochère. A tall, well-proportioned man got out from the driver's seat and handed his car keys to the valet parking attendant.

His striking appearance was not something anyone could ignore. Underneath his tweed gray overcoat, he wore a jet-black button-up partnered with a pair of dark slim-fit trousers. The all-dark attire only added to the mesmerizing yet enigmatic presence he already radiated.

His commanding gait as he walked past the hotel lobby toward the elevators made diffident bystanders shrink.

When he saw the elevator door open, he quickened his pace and caught a glimpse of a slender figure stepping inside it. The door was half-closed when he reached for the buttons. He abruptly tapped the button to let the elevator door slide open again and stepped into it.

Once inside, he saw that someone had already pressed the button for his destination. He only pushed the close-door button and casually leaned against the elevator wall.

"Brother, my dearest brother, you know you're my favorite person in the whole wide world, don't you?" he heard the woman beside him whisper with a candied voice. The elevators at Kingsley were undeniably more spacious than most, but it was still a small, enclosed space. And they were the only two in it, so despite her efforts to keep her conversation quiet, he could hear her as clear as day.

She couldn't be talking to him, but he glanced sideways quickly to confirm and saw that she was indeed holding a phone to her ear.

"Please, help me tell Mom? Tell her I have volunteer work that got switched to this evening. Pretty please? You love me the most, don't you? I will apologize to Auntie, but Mom... She'd be disappointed."

He let out a faint smile, amused at what he was hearing. The woman was obviously a little fox to her brother.

And then there was a long silence. In the absence of the woman's voice, he unconsciously tilted his head towards her again. She was a full head shorter than him. His eyes landed on lush dark chocolate hair—a whiff of light sweet vanilla scent greeted his nose. 

Ding!

The pinging sound of the elevator door interrupted his thoughts. He stepped forward to hold the door open for her and gestured for her to step out first.

The young woman, who was still holding a phone to her ear, finally looked up at him. Their eyes met. It was as though time itself had stopped; he was rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off her.

Those eyes... were the same exquisite, large hazel eyes of the teenager he had met five years ago. Modeled in the shape of almonds, nestled within a small and delicate face, he remembered how gentle and expressive they were as he witnessed her comforting a younger boy, who had just lost his mother, in the corner of a hospital's corridor. He remembered how those eyes had managed to soothe his soul, too.

Now, she had grown even more beautiful than he remembered. She was now a young woman who reminded him of early spring blossom, which one couldn't help but enjoy with their eyes, and of which allure was too strong for the bees to resist. And just like a bee, he was hooked.

Something in her excited him. It was a kind of burning in a place that had gone cold. As he locked his gaze on her lustrous eyes, he became lost in them. He knew, at that moment, that he wouldn't mind not being found. He would willingly roam in them for all eternity.

The pinging sound of the elevator snapped him back to the present. He broke his intense stare and realized he had been holding the door open for her for too long.