Don't Let Go
Chapter Eighteen: Cuz There's Something Here I Can't Explain
They stood awkwardly on the steps of Sarah's house. Christian shifted his weight, glancing at the door. "So."
"So," Sarah echoed. She smiled. "I had a great time tonight, Christian."
He grinned. "Me too."
They stared at each other. The silence stretched into the night with the faint hum of cars and televisions echoing through the empty street. Then Christian bent forward hesitantly. Sarah stared at the incoming assault, bewildered, and at the last second turned her cheek so that his lips brushed against her face.
At least, that had been the plan.
She wasn't prepared for how wet it felt, and she jumped back, cheeks aflame. Christian looked startled, and stepped back uncertainly. She glanced down. "Um, I'm sorry," she said, her tongue fumbling over the words,"You just took me by surprise." She looked up at him, hating the uncertainty, hating the tension in the air.
Christian shrugged. "Hey, it's okay. My bad." He raised his hands up to deflect any protests. "It's fine, really."
"I'm sorry-"
He smiled and shook his head. "No, no, Sarah. It's my fault." He backed up and took a step down. "I should-" he paused. "I should probably get going." He waved at her once and strode down the street.
Sarah stared after him helplessly, regret draping about her shoulders like a heavy cloak. She sighed and entered the house quietly, not wanting to talk to anyone. She crept through to the stairs, trying to avoid searching eyes and prying tongues. She fled up the stairs, making sure to step around the squeaky middle of the steps.
The Goblin King awaited her in her room.
"What are you doing here?" she moaned, closing the door and collapsing against it. He stared at her mutely, arms crossed as he stood against her vanity. His black shirt and black pants boded ill for his mood, the darkness matching the coldness in his eyes.
He tilted his head slightly, sending shockwaves through his hair. "That was simply pathetic," he hissed, and she flinched, eyes wide at the surprising viciousness of his tone and words. "Don't you want that boy, Sarah?" he asked silkily, not moving a muscle as he stood there, an angry statue of black and white. In a low, melodic murmur, he added,"He wants you; I can taste his desire, feel his need; I can hear the echo of his heartbeat as he thinks of you." His mismatched eyes focused sharply on her again, and she jumped. The sheer intensity of his gaze frightened her. "And you want him, don't you Sarah?"
And suddenly he was beside her, pulling her prone figure to him, cradling her in his arms like some rag doll. "Don't you want him, Sarah?" he asked, his face close enough to hers that her heart beat with a mixture of fear and desire. Even angry, he was beautiful to her. She swallowed and tried to breathe, doing her best to ignore the heat of his body against hers. The cold look in his eyes chilled her core even as her skin flushed with warmth. In a low voice, he said dreamily,"Or are you again merely toying with all of us, cruel mistress?" He removed one hand from her back and brought it up to trail one finger down the cheek where the wetness had long dried. Sarah's breath caught as the gloved finger barely brushed against her skin, charging the air with energy.
She gasped for air; her lungs were constricting, she needed more air. She screwed her eyes shut and made a small, whimpering sound.
What right did he have to do this to her? What right did he have to play his games first one way, then another? Wasn't he the cruel one toying with her? Just who is it exactly that holds the power here?
Sarah swallowed once and opened her eyes. She absently noted the pride she felt as she said in an almost steady voice,"Let go of me, Goblin King."
~~~~~~~~~~~~