As of Yet Untitled
By Karisma
Part Three
Rated: PG-13
here's chapter three. thanks to all the heaps of ppl who mailed me.
heaps being FOUR!!! but that's four more than i expected...sigh. so,
in return, S. Moon, Crissy, Lady Spring, and Neha: this part is for
you guys! enjoy it in good health!
It was a few days later when I crossed swords with Darien
alone. I had made sure to steer clear of him-as always-but this
time, he seemed to go out of his way to pay more attention to me
than usual. Ever since the-ahem-moment in my room, when he had seen
me without my glasses, I often found Darien staring at me intently
or smiling secretly in my direction. It unnerved me, of course, not
knowing whether he was plotting a horrible prank or… whether he was
flirting with me.
One week ago I would have thought the latter notion
preposterous, but now"
My mother had always said that I should throw out my thick
glasses and don some contacts. She had insisted, and my father had
heartily agreed, that I would be attractive if only I didn't hide
behind my dense lenses. I had contemplated the idea thoroughly,
looking at myself in the mirror with, then without, my glasses, But
the fact was, I was hiding behind them, I felt naked and vulnerable
without them shielding my eyes.
Anyway, the day came when I couldn't hide from Darien anymore.
I was the kitchen, helping Lita, our cook, with lunch. I usually
help out with the meals-and had been doing so for as long as I can
remember-partially because I do love to cook, but mainly because it
was a convenient excuse to stay away from the Terrible Two until
absolutely necessary.
Unfortunately, that day, Darien offered to help me in the
kitchen. I would have laughed at the whole table's swinging over to
stare at his face in shock, if I had not been one of those who were
staring. Darien was far from lazy, but he just didn't-he wasn't-
Let's just say he had never offered to help before. I wasn't
sure he had even seen the kitchen.
I was about to decline and offer the cliché: 'too many cooks
spoil the broth' when he took my arm and ushered to me into the
adjoining room before I could even open my mouth.
We were silent as we worked except for the occasional order I
gave him. Lita was off somewhere else, the main course being
prepared. I just usually made the salad, desert and the little
things.
"Serena?" Darien sniffed painfully and I turned to find his
eyes watery and close to spilling over tears. I lowered my gaze,
completely alarmed, to find his thumb wrapped in a towel that was
almost soaked in a red substance.
"Ohmigod!" I shrieked and fluttered about nervously for a
moment before swallowing hard and running over him.
I grabbed his hand and lifted it gingerly. "Ooo, does it hurt?
What am I saying? of course it hurts." I took it to the sink and
turned the tap on. I jerked his hand under the liquid and slowly
unraveled the towel. A second later I realized that the water was
turning red from any blood. There was no blood. And as I yanked his
hand up to my face for a closer inspection, I found out there was no
cut.
I glared at his now handsome, laughing face and looked over his
shoulder and sure enough, he had been cutting onions. That had
explained the tears. I looked down at the red towel in my hands and
gingerly dabbed my index finger on it and tasted it. Ketchup.
"Jerk," I seethed, gripping his hand tighter, wishing with all
my heart I could break it.
He stopped chuckling and grabbed my wrist as I prepared to
leave. He swung me around to be even closer to his lean frame then I
had ever been. I now found myself trapped between the hard counter
and Darien. And although it wasn't a completely awful feeling-quite
the opposite actually-I was thoroughly nervous. My anger dissolved
at his proximity and I became increasingly nervous.
"Don't be like that, Serena," he whispered and to my complete
astonishment, he began to nuzzle my ear then my neck. My eyes
widened as he slowly, gently took off my glasses and placed them on
the blue counter behind me. He cupped my chin with surprisingly soft
hands and tilted my face to meet his piercing, blue eyes. He lowered
his head to kiss me and alarm bells rattled off in my head. I
slipped away and laughed nervously, although it sounded like a
gasping cough even to my ears.
Lita where are you? I cried mentally as he grinned easily, his
face turning even more gorgeous-if that was possible-and placed his
hands behind him, gripping the counter and peering over at me
expressionlessly.
I could do nothing but return the gaze and wish desperately
that I had my glasses, which were over by Darien, and I there was no
way that I was getting any closer to him than I had to. I stupidly
crossed my arms over my white tank top from across the kitchen and
knew I had to break this stupid eye war. Besides from getting
utterly ridiculous, there was no way I'd win.
I cleared my throat nervously and walked over to my cutting
board and resumed cutting tomatoes for the salad, feeling Darien's
razor sharp eyes watching my every move. I worked mechanically with
trembling hands, fighting the temptation to turn around and meet his
gaze once again.
I froze as I felt him move and step over to where I was. He
tweaked my ponytail lightly and then reached across me to grab a
black-handled knife off its rack, making sure I felt every inch of
him behind me. I shivered slightly and then whirled around to tell
him off and ask him what exactly he thought he was playing at here.
I, unfortunately, didn't think precisely how close he was. And when
I turned around, I bumped my head right into his firm chest. I
laughed slightly and tried to distance myself from his unnerving
body. But there was no where to go-unless I wanted to jump up on the
counter and climb out the window-and that didn't seem like the
brightest idea.
"Do I make you nervous, Serena?" Darien asked huskily. He made
no move to step aside to relieve my obvious discomfort and shifting.
Yes, yes! You do!
"Nervous?" I squeaked and winced at the shrillness of my voice.
"No," better tone, I commended myself, "No, don't be ridiculous."
He looked down at me and nodded slowly, amused, as if he didn't
believe me and was humoring me. "Well, good."
I cleared my throat for what seemed like the millionth time
that day and lunged for my glasses and practically slapped them onto
my face. I turned over to where he stood bewildered and smiled
winningly and no doubt unconvincingly.
"Well, let's go out and serve dinner, shall we?" I said
brightly, grabbed the basket of rolls and promptly left the room. I
huffed out a relieved sigh and pasted a smile on my face for the
entire table's benefit.
"Well, it's about time, Serena!" Mr. Sandborn scolded
good-naturedly. "We thought you and Darien had run off together!"
I froze and swallowed the lump in my throat. "What?"
"We debated it and then decided we could always go after dinner
was served. It would be less suspicious that way." Darien's smooth
voice came from behind me. He placed the pot roast on the table and
winked at me. My eyes widened at the gesture and then narrowed into
angry slits.
My father roared with laughter and then slapped Darien's back
as he sat down. I took the seat next to Mrs. Sandborn, directly
across from Darien, who hadn't taken his eyes off of me. I shot him
a stern, warning glance, which he-being Darien-paid no heed to.
Both our fathers prayed and we began to eat. Lita's cooking, as
usual, was wonderful and we all said so. When my father commented on
the perfect temperature of the pot roast Darien was quick reply.
"Well, you definitely don't want things to get too hot in the
kitchen," my head snapped up faster than a cobra attacked and I met
his cool eyes and raised brows.
The others, seeing nothing awry with the comment, continued
eating as I glared daggers at Darien. He stared back at me calmly
and innocently. The rest of the meal was filled with barbs such as
that, no one understanding the double meanings except for me, and of
course, Darien.
The rest of the vacation went on with no incident. I made sure
I was never alone with Darien-it being far too dangerous. He being
far to dangerous. That was the last vacation we all had together up
at the house to date. I went off to finish my senior year in England
and then stayed there for six full years of college.
Eight years.
That's how long it had been since I had seen any one besides my
parents. They came to visit me in England. But I hadn't seen the
Sandborns' at all. Mrs. Sandborn occasionally sent me a letter with
a brief paragraph from Mr. Sandborn, but no contact was made between
Andrew and I. And Darien.
And now I was on a plane back to my childhood town to stay
there for good. Back to see them all after eight long years.
I had changed in more ways than one. My appearance not as much
as my attitude. I had cut my blonde hair short since my mother
wasn't around to nag me about keeping it long. I had finally gotten
the contacts, and realized my eyes had gotten a deeper shade of
blue. Although, I was still considered somewhat short at five foot
six, my newfound sense of confidence added to my height
considerably. College had done wonders for my shyness, as well as my
social life. I was still quiet though, I supposed I would always be.
Through all the differences in my life, my memory was still the
same. And no matter the length in time, I still recalled the day in
that kitchen with such clarity it startled me. Darien had probably
long since forgotten, why couldn't I?
I was going back for two main reasons. One being I was ready to
begin working in my father's business and then take over when he
stepped down. The other event I will be attending was Andrew's
wedding. It seemed at twenty-eight, Andrew had found his match, Rita
Evans. I couldn't wait to meet the blushing bride. Even though the
we had never met, Rita had contacted me in England and requested
that I be her maid-of-honor. I immediately accepted and we seemed to
become fast friends over the phone.
However happy I was for Andrew, my anticipation was focused
mainly on the younger brother. I knew I had a crush on Darien when I
was younger-even I could admit that-but now I was over him. I was. I
just couldn't wait to see them, that was all.
After the wedding, we would all be going down to the summer
house. My parents and I, the Sandborns', including Rita and her
parents. The eight bedroom house would never be as full as it was
going to be that summer. I knew I couldn't wait to head down there
again after all this time.
I barely noticed the plane had landed and it was time to get
off. My father had informed me someone I knew would be there to pick
me up, but I had no clue as to whom. I snatched my light attaché
case and slipped my black jacket over my simple, white blouse and
blue jeans. Pulling my hair into a high ponytail, I figured it would
look better like that then disarray it would be if I left it out.
I decided to find my ride and then claim my baggage. I stood on
tiptoe and scanned the area for anyone familiar. My gaze rested on a
devastatingly handsome young man in black jeans and a black, silk
shirt rolled up to his forearms. His tousled hair added to the
picture of impatience as he talked on his cellular phone. He looked
up at that moment and my heart sank and lifted at the same time at
the sight of his cerulean eyes looking straight into mine.
They had sent Darien.
By Karisma
Part Three
Rated: PG-13
here's chapter three. thanks to all the heaps of ppl who mailed me.
heaps being FOUR!!! but that's four more than i expected...sigh. so,
in return, S. Moon, Crissy, Lady Spring, and Neha: this part is for
you guys! enjoy it in good health!
It was a few days later when I crossed swords with Darien
alone. I had made sure to steer clear of him-as always-but this
time, he seemed to go out of his way to pay more attention to me
than usual. Ever since the-ahem-moment in my room, when he had seen
me without my glasses, I often found Darien staring at me intently
or smiling secretly in my direction. It unnerved me, of course, not
knowing whether he was plotting a horrible prank or… whether he was
flirting with me.
One week ago I would have thought the latter notion
preposterous, but now"
My mother had always said that I should throw out my thick
glasses and don some contacts. She had insisted, and my father had
heartily agreed, that I would be attractive if only I didn't hide
behind my dense lenses. I had contemplated the idea thoroughly,
looking at myself in the mirror with, then without, my glasses, But
the fact was, I was hiding behind them, I felt naked and vulnerable
without them shielding my eyes.
Anyway, the day came when I couldn't hide from Darien anymore.
I was the kitchen, helping Lita, our cook, with lunch. I usually
help out with the meals-and had been doing so for as long as I can
remember-partially because I do love to cook, but mainly because it
was a convenient excuse to stay away from the Terrible Two until
absolutely necessary.
Unfortunately, that day, Darien offered to help me in the
kitchen. I would have laughed at the whole table's swinging over to
stare at his face in shock, if I had not been one of those who were
staring. Darien was far from lazy, but he just didn't-he wasn't-
Let's just say he had never offered to help before. I wasn't
sure he had even seen the kitchen.
I was about to decline and offer the cliché: 'too many cooks
spoil the broth' when he took my arm and ushered to me into the
adjoining room before I could even open my mouth.
We were silent as we worked except for the occasional order I
gave him. Lita was off somewhere else, the main course being
prepared. I just usually made the salad, desert and the little
things.
"Serena?" Darien sniffed painfully and I turned to find his
eyes watery and close to spilling over tears. I lowered my gaze,
completely alarmed, to find his thumb wrapped in a towel that was
almost soaked in a red substance.
"Ohmigod!" I shrieked and fluttered about nervously for a
moment before swallowing hard and running over him.
I grabbed his hand and lifted it gingerly. "Ooo, does it hurt?
What am I saying? of course it hurts." I took it to the sink and
turned the tap on. I jerked his hand under the liquid and slowly
unraveled the towel. A second later I realized that the water was
turning red from any blood. There was no blood. And as I yanked his
hand up to my face for a closer inspection, I found out there was no
cut.
I glared at his now handsome, laughing face and looked over his
shoulder and sure enough, he had been cutting onions. That had
explained the tears. I looked down at the red towel in my hands and
gingerly dabbed my index finger on it and tasted it. Ketchup.
"Jerk," I seethed, gripping his hand tighter, wishing with all
my heart I could break it.
He stopped chuckling and grabbed my wrist as I prepared to
leave. He swung me around to be even closer to his lean frame then I
had ever been. I now found myself trapped between the hard counter
and Darien. And although it wasn't a completely awful feeling-quite
the opposite actually-I was thoroughly nervous. My anger dissolved
at his proximity and I became increasingly nervous.
"Don't be like that, Serena," he whispered and to my complete
astonishment, he began to nuzzle my ear then my neck. My eyes
widened as he slowly, gently took off my glasses and placed them on
the blue counter behind me. He cupped my chin with surprisingly soft
hands and tilted my face to meet his piercing, blue eyes. He lowered
his head to kiss me and alarm bells rattled off in my head. I
slipped away and laughed nervously, although it sounded like a
gasping cough even to my ears.
Lita where are you? I cried mentally as he grinned easily, his
face turning even more gorgeous-if that was possible-and placed his
hands behind him, gripping the counter and peering over at me
expressionlessly.
I could do nothing but return the gaze and wish desperately
that I had my glasses, which were over by Darien, and I there was no
way that I was getting any closer to him than I had to. I stupidly
crossed my arms over my white tank top from across the kitchen and
knew I had to break this stupid eye war. Besides from getting
utterly ridiculous, there was no way I'd win.
I cleared my throat nervously and walked over to my cutting
board and resumed cutting tomatoes for the salad, feeling Darien's
razor sharp eyes watching my every move. I worked mechanically with
trembling hands, fighting the temptation to turn around and meet his
gaze once again.
I froze as I felt him move and step over to where I was. He
tweaked my ponytail lightly and then reached across me to grab a
black-handled knife off its rack, making sure I felt every inch of
him behind me. I shivered slightly and then whirled around to tell
him off and ask him what exactly he thought he was playing at here.
I, unfortunately, didn't think precisely how close he was. And when
I turned around, I bumped my head right into his firm chest. I
laughed slightly and tried to distance myself from his unnerving
body. But there was no where to go-unless I wanted to jump up on the
counter and climb out the window-and that didn't seem like the
brightest idea.
"Do I make you nervous, Serena?" Darien asked huskily. He made
no move to step aside to relieve my obvious discomfort and shifting.
Yes, yes! You do!
"Nervous?" I squeaked and winced at the shrillness of my voice.
"No," better tone, I commended myself, "No, don't be ridiculous."
He looked down at me and nodded slowly, amused, as if he didn't
believe me and was humoring me. "Well, good."
I cleared my throat for what seemed like the millionth time
that day and lunged for my glasses and practically slapped them onto
my face. I turned over to where he stood bewildered and smiled
winningly and no doubt unconvincingly.
"Well, let's go out and serve dinner, shall we?" I said
brightly, grabbed the basket of rolls and promptly left the room. I
huffed out a relieved sigh and pasted a smile on my face for the
entire table's benefit.
"Well, it's about time, Serena!" Mr. Sandborn scolded
good-naturedly. "We thought you and Darien had run off together!"
I froze and swallowed the lump in my throat. "What?"
"We debated it and then decided we could always go after dinner
was served. It would be less suspicious that way." Darien's smooth
voice came from behind me. He placed the pot roast on the table and
winked at me. My eyes widened at the gesture and then narrowed into
angry slits.
My father roared with laughter and then slapped Darien's back
as he sat down. I took the seat next to Mrs. Sandborn, directly
across from Darien, who hadn't taken his eyes off of me. I shot him
a stern, warning glance, which he-being Darien-paid no heed to.
Both our fathers prayed and we began to eat. Lita's cooking, as
usual, was wonderful and we all said so. When my father commented on
the perfect temperature of the pot roast Darien was quick reply.
"Well, you definitely don't want things to get too hot in the
kitchen," my head snapped up faster than a cobra attacked and I met
his cool eyes and raised brows.
The others, seeing nothing awry with the comment, continued
eating as I glared daggers at Darien. He stared back at me calmly
and innocently. The rest of the meal was filled with barbs such as
that, no one understanding the double meanings except for me, and of
course, Darien.
The rest of the vacation went on with no incident. I made sure
I was never alone with Darien-it being far too dangerous. He being
far to dangerous. That was the last vacation we all had together up
at the house to date. I went off to finish my senior year in England
and then stayed there for six full years of college.
Eight years.
That's how long it had been since I had seen any one besides my
parents. They came to visit me in England. But I hadn't seen the
Sandborns' at all. Mrs. Sandborn occasionally sent me a letter with
a brief paragraph from Mr. Sandborn, but no contact was made between
Andrew and I. And Darien.
And now I was on a plane back to my childhood town to stay
there for good. Back to see them all after eight long years.
I had changed in more ways than one. My appearance not as much
as my attitude. I had cut my blonde hair short since my mother
wasn't around to nag me about keeping it long. I had finally gotten
the contacts, and realized my eyes had gotten a deeper shade of
blue. Although, I was still considered somewhat short at five foot
six, my newfound sense of confidence added to my height
considerably. College had done wonders for my shyness, as well as my
social life. I was still quiet though, I supposed I would always be.
Through all the differences in my life, my memory was still the
same. And no matter the length in time, I still recalled the day in
that kitchen with such clarity it startled me. Darien had probably
long since forgotten, why couldn't I?
I was going back for two main reasons. One being I was ready to
begin working in my father's business and then take over when he
stepped down. The other event I will be attending was Andrew's
wedding. It seemed at twenty-eight, Andrew had found his match, Rita
Evans. I couldn't wait to meet the blushing bride. Even though the
we had never met, Rita had contacted me in England and requested
that I be her maid-of-honor. I immediately accepted and we seemed to
become fast friends over the phone.
However happy I was for Andrew, my anticipation was focused
mainly on the younger brother. I knew I had a crush on Darien when I
was younger-even I could admit that-but now I was over him. I was. I
just couldn't wait to see them, that was all.
After the wedding, we would all be going down to the summer
house. My parents and I, the Sandborns', including Rita and her
parents. The eight bedroom house would never be as full as it was
going to be that summer. I knew I couldn't wait to head down there
again after all this time.
I barely noticed the plane had landed and it was time to get
off. My father had informed me someone I knew would be there to pick
me up, but I had no clue as to whom. I snatched my light attaché
case and slipped my black jacket over my simple, white blouse and
blue jeans. Pulling my hair into a high ponytail, I figured it would
look better like that then disarray it would be if I left it out.
I decided to find my ride and then claim my baggage. I stood on
tiptoe and scanned the area for anyone familiar. My gaze rested on a
devastatingly handsome young man in black jeans and a black, silk
shirt rolled up to his forearms. His tousled hair added to the
picture of impatience as he talked on his cellular phone. He looked
up at that moment and my heart sank and lifted at the same time at
the sight of his cerulean eyes looking straight into mine.
They had sent Darien.