The Rightful Luna

Chapter 6

HELLO MY LOVELIES! Okay, I am seriously spoiling you guys with two updates this week and having them be practically back to back. xP lol. But nah, I don't mind. So here's the next chapter you guys. For a fact you guys are going to hate me but love me all at the same time. Wondering why? Well, go ahead and read and you'll figure it out. ;D ENJOY! ♥

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"Rocky? Are you alright? Rocky?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice, nearly knocking down all the papers in my hands. Gripping them tightly, I looked up at him, startled. His eyes seemed worrisome as a frown laced his lips. His eyebrows pulled together as he studied my now shaking form. As time passed by, his frown seemed to deepen, and I wouldn't blame him either. Ever since that incident yesterday, I've been more paranoid than usual. I couldn't think straight and every so often his menacing face will appear on my mind. A little voice in my head kept on insisting that I shouldn't be afraid of this man, even if I didn't know him. Why? I had no idea. But being the little stubborn young woman that I am, I chose to ignore it and instead look in all directions for fear of having him find me in the Senior home. Hopefully he wasn't stalking me or something. If he was, I am most definitely screwed.

I shook my head, ridding myself of those thoughts as I stared into his bright gray eyes. "I'm sorry?" I asked, blinking several times as I focused on his features.

His eyebrow raised slowly as he gave me a once over. "I asked if you were alright. You don't look too good," he said, leaning forward while reaching out and placing the back of his hand on my forehead. The mere touch made me flinch back, and not for a bad reason either. A bolt of electricity seemed to spark between us, making me jump back and rub my head immediately. It wasn't one of those sparks that you get when you walk on carpet with your socks on. This seemed a bit....different for some reason.

He straightened his stance as he waited for my answer. I don't know, am I alright? I mean, I feel better than I had in a long time, surprisingly enough, but I sure as hell wasn't as serene as I usually am.

I bit my lower lip, contemplating on whether I should even tell him about that stranger from yesterday. I mean, I've known Dr. Thompson....uh, Bret, for quite some time now. But I don't think I can trust him completely when it came to that. Maybe I should tell Joey about it later. Then again, the whole situation I was in yesterday seemed like one that should not be spoken about. Not because I didn't trust anybody to tell the matter to, but because I felt like some people would get extremely angry if they were to discover that a large, abnormal young man had stalked me, let alone chased me all the way to my apartment before disappearing. And I knew very well that one person in particular wouldn't hesitate to track him down and give him a piece of his mind. Good thing he's not here.

"Rocky?" Bret asked again, crossing his arms but with the same worrisome look still plastered on his features.

I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair that was in a messy bun above my head. I didn't even bother fixing it this morning. My hands wouldn't stop shaking! "I'm sorry, Bret. I'm just a bit shaken up, is all," I said with a small reassuring smile. He didn't seem to buy it.

"You seem a lot more than simply 'shaken up'," he said, his eyebrows pulling together once more. "What happened?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's nothing you need to worry about," I said, waving my head dismissively while balancing the stack of papers in my other hand.

He pursed his lips, his eyes blank for a few seconds before he turned around and began to walk away. I simply stared at his large form before he stopped on his tracks and looked back at me. With a raised eyebrow, he motioned with his head to follow before continuing. I looked towards the other end of the hall before obeying his unspoken command. Gripping the papers tighter than before, I rushed to keep up with his fast pace and followed him down the steps and onto the first floor. With one single turn, we ended up in front of a door that had a sign that read: Dr. Thompson. Opening the door swiftly with one hand, he stepped to the left, allowing me to walk in before shutting the door behind him. Without uttering a single word, he made his way around his large wooden desk and sat on the red leather chair behind it. As he looked down and began to shuffle a few papers around, I took the opportunity to look around his office. It's been a while since I've been here, and it hasn't really changed since. It was the size of a medium sized office with a large bookcase to your left, reaching from the floor to the white ceiling above our heads. A small table with a coffee maker and a few cups sat towards the right, directly beside the door. His desk laid in front of a large bay window that had its curtains closed, obscuring any stream of light to enter the now dark room. Beneath the large wooden desk laid a rather large green carpet that took most of the space on the dark wooden floor. The walls were painted a deep green, making the room seem more menacing than I had remembered.