𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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"𝙏his is your room?" Rayne asked, perplexed.
They had barely stepped two feet inside of it when her question came soaring in, but he couldn't blame her for the sudden curiosity. Staring at the four black walls now, having not stepped inside the room since he was nineteen years old, a wave of nostalgia hit him.
He wasn't quite sure why it happened to him, considering most of his childhood was spent on various continents other than North America, therefore taking away any normal aspect to reflect back on, but it felt nice.
"Yeah, is there something wrong with it?" he answered, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"It's just a tad boring—I expected more from you."
He let out a soft chuckle, "Meaning?"
Rayne grinned slyly over her shoulders as she dragged the tips of her fingers across the bureau she was standing in front of. Even when her face morphed into disgust at the amount of dust she picked up, the new smile on his face never left. Though she was in one of the most vulnerable areas of his physical life, nothing in her tone indicated that she was judging him.
"I expected to see drawers full of condoms and girls in bikinis covering every inch of wall."
This time, he couldn't stop the full laugh from slipping past his lips.
"Is that really what you think of me?—that I'm just some horny boy?"
"Maybe," she replied.
That slick and coy grin remained on her lips as she turned back around and opened one of the top drawers; he didn't mind, partly because most of them were empty, but also because her curious mind was allowing him a moment of freedom to admire her.
The red dress his friends had given her to wear tonight looked incredible on her. Her striking, brilliantly-bright, auburn hair added a tasteful centerpiece to the outfit—it made his fingers twitch with the desire to comb them throughout the silky texture.
His lips parted in surprise as she turned mid-checkout. If she caught him in the act, she surely wasn't letting him know, nor was she alerting him to a possible case of caring. Instead, her golden eyes, hidden under her eyeliner and mascara, drew him in further, inviting him to tango without a single word spilled. Every part of her alarmed him, yet warmed every ache in his body.
From the aura that surrounded her alone, he knew he wanted to spend all his time by her side.
"Hm," Rayne's voice and breach of eye contact snapped him out of his thoughts.
Pocketing his hands, he watched with a crooked eyebrow as she bent over and ran her fingers across a pile of cassette tapes he had forgotten about, having not bothered to take them to his new house when he moved out four years ago.
"What're these?"
"Oh—uhm!" his face instantly heated up as he stumbled over his words.
Racing off the bed, he closed the distance between the two of them and edged his body between hers and the black tapes, not wanting her to get any closer than that.
