My vision was muddy as I first opened my eyes after sleeping so long. I blinked a few times trying to remove the sleep out of my eyes. I stretched my arms out full length. There was no ache, no pain. I almost felt brand new. Almost.
I sat up in the bed leaning against the headboard. It was white and black with blood red bedposts. Whose room was this?
I raised my eyes in front of me and noticed a beautiful old painting. It was of two simply breathtaking men and a very attractive woman. I saw both of these men last night. One was Jean-Claude. Was the other one Asher? Who knew? Were they in love back then? How long ago was it? Who the hell knew?
I moved my legs to the side of the bed. Okay, I can do this. I will get up and walk out of this room. I don't want to stay here any longer. I placed my hands flat on the bed. If I get enough leverage, I can push myself up. Nevermind.
"Hello. Someone help me!" I yelled out into the room. Echoes were my only response.
I yelled again with no response. Where is everyone? What time is it? This sucks.
A slight knock came from the door. I sat perfectly still on the bed afraid of what my own voice had done. What did I do? Who did I call? What if it's whom I met last night? Not many guys can have me on my knees at first sight.
The door opened slowly revealing beautiful long wavy golden hair surrounding a beautiful face that wasn't covered by shadows. He opened it as if he were afraid he'd catch me naked or something.
His accent was a French so strong and so natural it put Killian's English accent to shame. The voice was sensual and understanding. A voice I'd love to wake up to every morning.
My eyes didn't want to distant themselves from his face. He was gorgeous even though half of his face was shrouded in shadows. His smile was almost devastating to me from his full lips.
"I am glad you have finally awaken, ma douce mémoire."
I ran my hand through my tangled hair. "Me too. How long have I been asleep?"
"Two hours. It is still night time although daylight is rapidly approaching."
"You're Asher, right? Are you the man in the painting?" I pointed my left index finger at the picture.
He didn't even look back at the painting. He walked closer to me, reaching a hand out. I took it and placed both my feet firmly on the ground. He began to pull me up slowly helping me stand on my own. My body quickly gained some of its strength back. He let go of me abruptly causing me to bump into his body. He grabbed hold of my back making sure I didn't fall. My face rested on his right shoulder breathing in the sweet aroma of his cologne.
I lifted my head up accidentally moving some of his beautiful hair away from his face. What I saw on the right side of his face was shocking. The right side was melted away like a burning candle. My heart immediately felt limp. Jesus, who did this?
His body instantly reacted hatefully to me. He pushed me away as he stomped over to stand against the wall. He crossed his arms and leaned his body so that his hair would become a drape covering the scarred part of his face.
I stood next to the bed with my heart on my sleeve. I was feeling curious, but was I really willing to dwell into his past? Yeah, I was.
I walked slowly over to the wall. I stood directly in front of him waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, I raised my hands to his face. He flinched for a second, but I honestly didn't care. I wanted to touch his face. I wanted to know what happened.
I moved his thick golden hair back behind his shoulders. It felt like silk between my fingers. I placed my left hand underneath his eye on the scarred side. I let my hand slightly touch his face. My hand slid carefully down to his chin. His eyes were so full of pain. I raised my left hand and put it under his left eye. I did the same with my right on the scarred side. I simultaneously ran my hands gently down his face. My eyes stayed focused on his. His beautiful face was still there. He was so gorgeous. A beautiful even scars couldn't take away. The scars only made him more human.
He grabbed my right hand softly bringing it closer to his lips. He kissed my hand, but it wasn't enough for me. I needed to touch him. I needed to know he was okay. I raised my lips closer to his face. I stared into his beautiful blue eyes watching the pain melt away into something more powerful. Something only two lovers have felt. Something...
Cameron stood there before Asher and I with his hands curled up into fists. His eyes were staring only at me. He was breathing in far too fast for this to be normal. What the hell should I do now?
"Who the hell are you?" His long fingers pointed up at Asher. Asher didn't move away from me. He hadn't even let me go. I guess he was still caught up in the moment. Can't complain really.
Asher finally moved his hand off my back. He strolled past me walking casually over to Cameron.
"Sir, I assure you that what you saw was not on any part Sara's fault. She was only caught up in a moment from my past."
He walked past Cameron, but stopped at the door. He looked back at me. "Bye, ma douce mémoire." Then he walked out of the room.
I sighed while I walked over to the bed. I dropped down quickly almost falling off the bed. When I caught my balance, I threw my body back. I laid there trying to figure out what had just happened. Was I really not myself? Was I actually caught up in one of his past memories? What does ma douce mémoire mean? Oh, and if I was caught up, how far would it have gone?
Cameron finally cooled off and came to sit next to me. I looked up at his eyes to see them full of sorrow. Maybe he knew Asher was telling the truth.
"I'm sorry for thinking the worst."
I looked over at the painting on the wall. The beautiful brunette that smiled back at me with her ringlets looked so happy.
"I'm sorry for getting caught up in someone else's memory."