I was awoken by the ringing of the doorbell. It was such a strange sound, reverberating within the noise of the fine drizzle showering over the mountains. Kind of like a shapeless melody.
My eyes opened lazily, my gaze falling on the peach, wooden ceiling. The colour was quiet and receding, reminding me of my mother's warm smile that relieved any depleted soul.
The doorbell rang again. I sat up and slipped into my open sandals before stepping towards the door. Opening it a fraction of an inch, I asked softly, "Who's visiting?"
Cold silence replied to me. I frowned slightly, then glanced down at the damp doorstep that was cast with a vague, human-like shadow. I didn't have any people to call neighbors that deep in the woods, so this unexpected guest left me stumped.
"Who is it? By the way, I am not interested in any cults and am not particularly concerned with what's going on out in the world, so I'm not buying anything," I said quickly, but the figure didn't even sway.
Smacking my lips, I was about to shut the door when an abrupt, violent force pushed against the door from the other side, opening the door completely. Startled, I stepped back. The sound of the drizzle was now clearer, warm, and soft against the evergreen leaves in the forest.
My father's old cane was firmly within my grasp as I lifted my gaze towards the familiar figure standing on the doorstep. As soon as my eyes focused, my grip on the cane loosened and my jaw went slack with alarm. "You..."
"Yes, me," said Abel Donovan, unflinchingly. There was no smile on his handsome face as he stood on the damp doorstep, appraising my stiff figure with cold, dark eyes - my stiff figure which was adorned in crumpled pajamas. "Long time no see. It seems you had a pleasant night, Miss Long," he added, almost as though I should have been expecting him to come to my abode in the mountains that early in the morning - or even come at all, for that matter.
Eyes wider than saucers, I gaped dazedly as the tall man strode in, in that heart-meltingly poised and elegant manner of his, casually assessing the orchid walls that striped the corridor. "Quite a nice place you have here, Miss Long," he said, nonchalantly, his voice devoid of any particular emotion.
Closing the door behind me, I dashed after him hurriedly, my steps loud against the tatami. "Wait. What are you doing here?" That was all I could come up with, seeing him again after three long months of uneventfulness. My heart was already pounding madly. But, what was wrong with me? Why did I feel a little bit happy that he was here? I, in fact, sounded as though I hoped he could be here longer.
Abel didn't look at me. He continued striding wordlessly towards...Hell's whiskers!
Before he could take another dangerous step towards the door leading to a certain out-of-bounds room, I was long in front of him and held my arms wide as though welcoming him for a hug. He did not seem very pleased with the invitation though, as he narrowed his eyes slightly. His voice was calm. "What is it, Miss Long?"
"Um...this room...is, um, my bedroom," I stuttered, timidly, recalling the eyesore of a place my bedroom had become over the past few months, not to mention the things inside which I could never allow any man to feast his eyes on, especially not the man standing before me(again, why the bloody hell was he here?!).
His gaze flickered before he bore his gaze into me quietly. "So?"
Huh? 'So'? I felt like shedding tears at his phrase. Please, Almighty, I struggle to understand what you mean! Is it that he doesn't know what usually happens in a bedroom between a man and a woman? Or is he speaking in metaphors? He couldn't mean that sitting in my bedroom didn't at all disturb him, could he? I looked up at his ravishing face - a face so captivating I was left yelling incoherently in my mind. No, he couldn't! He couldn't mean that!
"Miss Long, if you're against us discussing this important matter in your sleeping chambers, then where would you prefer?" he asked again, unruffled by the uncanny glances I was sending him.
"Um, the living room will be alright," I answered, startled that he had indeed just inquired for my opinion - something which I had thought was impossible for him.
I guess... he's not as bad as I thought... I thought.
I then led him stiffly, almost mechanically, to a room that wasn't too big or too small.
The cocoa-colored floor was arranged with rose beige sofa sets. Soft, classical music played from the radio set on a high stool in a corner. It was relatively empty but serene, and yet when Abel's upright figure stepped in, it suddenly felt cramped and tense.
He sat down and rested his chin in his palm. Like a waiter addressing his manager, I cleared my throat and asked, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Yes, preferably black," he answered, kneading his brows, and I began to carry out my role as the timid waitress, unbidden of course.
Upon returning with a cup of hot coffee, black, as he'd requested, I found Abel staring out through the open window, at the fine drizzle that was beginning to morph into a heavy downpour. I recalled that I had not seen him with an umbrella, yet there was not a speck of water on his clothes. Setting the cup on the table, I wondered if he had driven there, into the mountains.
That would have been difficult, if not impossible, driving out here that is, I sat down, looking at his silent stature, considering how steep the terrain.
Abel finally looked back from the cold morning scene and fixed his gaze on the cup of coffee. He took one sip then placed it down. Crossing his feet, he began, "Miss Long, I think you know very well why I'm here."
My lips twitched. "No, unfortunately, I don't know. Unexpected visitors don't come expecting their hosts to already know of the cause of their visit."
There was no change in his expression, but I seemed to have perceived a certain agitation in his dark eyes before he spoke, "I came to speak to you about that...sketch of yours."
Right. The sketches that my back-stabbing friend, Damon, posted on the internet. My teeth felt sour with the recalling. I had never expected that karma would take shape in the form of this inscrutable man. Still, had he come just to pull my head out because of two mere sketches? And, how come he hadn't even brought an ax or a sword to behead me with?
"It is but a mere two sketches, sir, nothing to add to your worries or troubles at all, I'm sure," I blurted, attempting to quell whatever murderous thoughts were most likely filling his mind just then.
"A mere two sketches, you say?" He repeated my words, gazing into the still-full cup quietly. Oh my goodness! Is he instead seeing my face upon the cup and is crushing the poor cup repeatedly in his mind?
I was horrified and shuddered slightly. "Sir, I mean..."
"It seems you have no idea at all what you've just done, Miss Long," Abel's gaze was on me.
I sealed my lips and waited anxiously for him to continue. My heart palpitated against my chest as his cutting gaze drifted slowly, downwards - to my fingers. Dear Lord, did he want to start by dismembering my fingernails?!
My blood ran cold but suddenly warmed significantly with his next statement which was said distantly, as though the man had woken from a long, unsettling dream and was repeating the details of the dream to an old friend.
He said, "I have an intense absorption in art, and cannot help but admit that seeing your sketches garnered me an interest in knowing you. I do believe that is what brought me here. So, I am hoping that you will be more than happy to cater to my needs during my stay here, Miss Long." He smiled slightly - but it was a cold, threatening smile.
It did not immediately register in my mind that such an unnatural twist of his lips had just transpired. But, when it did, I think several earth-shattering explosions erupted within me.
Seemingly all bodily functions had been put on pause by my brain, for I simply ogled speechlessly at him.
"Miss Long? Is something the matter?"
"Huh? Er...I beg your pardon, sir?"
"I said, from now henceforth, I'll be staying here. My baggage will be delivered in two hours, I believe."
"Oh...um, beg your pardon again, sir?"
He gave me the oddest of looks.