Kanyin
"Where does your heart belong?"
Time has whizzed by since we've been staring up at the cloudless sky. Having someone comfortable as company is great because you never notice how time flies. What I love best about our period up here is the silence, it hasn't been awkward at all—just comfortable silence.
"That's a hard question. I've never truly been loved. I don't think I'm capable of giving out something I don't receive," he says, eyes glued to the sky from where he lays, his head resting on his backpack.
I scoot over to where he lies, lying on my side to get a clearer view of his face.
"Your heart doesn't have to belong to a human. It could be a dream or an object. There are no rules to it," I explain softly.
He lays on his side facing me too.
"If we're going by your definition, then I believe my heart doesn't belong to anything and anyone right now. The people I'm supposed to love have never really shown me love, so there was nothing to reciprocate. And my dreams seem so far away and out of reach. It's hard to give my heart to something that could possibly never work out," he says with unwavering honesty.
A pang of hurt flares through me. With what he's going through, would he ever be able to love me? Or would it be admiration forever?
Another comfortable silence ensues.
"Where does your heart belong?" he asks, breaking it.
I pretend to think deeply, but I've known this answer since the day I designed my first dress.
"My heart belongs in New York City. Living the high life and loving the hustle and bustle of working in design. Of course, my family will also be there at our penthouse. And I'll visit every now and then. Everyone and everything I love will all be in one place," I say with longing.
Terna stays silent, staring deep into my orbs. I assume we will descend into another comfortable silence until he speaks.
"I can't stop looking at you," he says in a velvety voice dripping with allure.
"Well, you better get a good look. Soon, people will be paying to see this face," I say smugly, batting my lashes for emphasis.
He sits up, and I follow suit, wondering if we're about to leave.
"Come here," he orders, patting the space between his crisscrossed legs.
I do as he says, slowly climbing into his lap to sit sideways so my legs may rest beside him.
"You know you can look at me, Princess," he teases when I refuse to tear my gaze off the ground despite sitting comfortably in his lap.
I gulp, finally finding the courage to meet his eyes.
They radiate like a night sky filled with stars. His eyes have always looked this dazzling, but there's something different about them today. Chestnut orbs that once used to sparkle with mischief and innocence now shimmer with heat.
His long fingers brush a braid from my shoulder and linger against my neck.
"Princess, do you like it when you dominate this relationship?" he asks out of the blue in a sultry voice.
I wouldn't say I've dominated this relationship, but he has always been at my beck and call like he lets me dominate. Although I quite enjoy it, I would like him to do things without having to ask sometimes.
YOU ARE READING
The Soles Of Damini Manor
FantasyFifteen-year-old Kola Damini thought his greatest worries were surviving crowded spaces and bickering with his diva of an older sister Kanyin-until his Mom mysteriously vanished without a trace. Like every other strange family, his workaholic Dad wh...
