After the maid had informed him that Birdie wasn't going to arrive, he sighed and deflated against his chair. Hell, he hadn't felt so miserable since—
Well, he couldn't remember. He had never felt so wretched and pathetic in all these years. He was right when he had thought her to be his ruin. She already controlled him through her every small action that he observed and noticed and smiled over later on.
He glanced at the blood in his glass and gulped it one swing, placing it back on the table with no gentleness. He wasn't angry at her, but at himself.
Last night, when her lips had touched him, he had almost lost balance and stumbled.
Stumbled.
He never stumbled.
The moment when she had slightly tilted her face and responded, was captured perfectly in his memories. The only thing he could never forget. He was already growing hard thinking about the previous night's events and he remembered how much self-constraint it had taken to back away from her and flee the facility.
Was she scared of him? Was she regretting what happened? Did she hate him now?
Was he not worth her?
Obviously not, his mind spoke and his inner demon passed it an intense glare. But who else was?
Nobody.
He groaned out loud and buried his face in his hands. It was a whole lot better when he hadn't touched her. Now that he knew what she tasted like, he wanted to take her to the highest cliff and let her shine by herself before taking her for himself and never letting go of her hand.
His thoughts were muddled up and for the first time in many years, he had no clue about what he had to do. It was as if her lips had stolen a big piece of his mind last night along with his heart.
Along with his heart.
Okay, now he was even more confused with his own thoughts. What did that even mean?
Getting up, he pushed the chair back and headed for the King's chambers to clear his mind out. His body seemed to be activated after touching her and every now and then, he felt an electric spark shoot up his fingers.
Was his power reacting to his feelings towards her?
He didn't know and that only made him even more frustrated.
He pushed open the door to the piano room and walked towards the black bench, taking a seat on it.
Centuries ago, his mother used to sing him to sleep every time he would be unable to close his eyes shut. It worked every single time. The minute his mother's warmth surrounded him and her voice entered his ears, sleep would automatically arrive and take him into the world of dreams.
It was now a blurry image in his mind, but his mother's voice was still clear and her face vivid.
This time however he didn't want to play one of his mother's songs on the piano. He wanted to play one of his own. A familiar melody entered his mind as he paced his fingers on the keys and pressed down.
He closed his eyes and tried to forget her face, her touches, her eyes, and her sighs. Tried getting lost in the music as he had always done but no matter how loud the music was in his ears, Eva didn't fade away into his mind.
Even singing wasn't helping. The words that tumbled out of his mouth were all related to how he had felt with her last night. His body, mind, and heart's focus were on one person which was her.
Birdie.
Eva.
His.
His fingers stopped as he messed his hair up and felt a sudden urge to hit himself. He had to see her again. From afar if it was necessary but his body wouldn't rest if he didn't see her with his eyes.
Getting up to his feet, he turned around with a determined look on his face.
The resolution soon shattered into pieces when he found her sitting on the marble ground, her eyes gazing at him with... could it be sadness?
It was as if somebody had knocked out all the air from his lungs. If he hadn't been gripping the bench with a tight vice-like grip, he was sure that he would be lying on the floor by now.
He wanted to walk forward and crouch down. Lean in and cover her body with his and never let go of it. Ask her why she was sad and make her giggle and smile again. His hand itched to take her hand and he cautiously stepped forward, not wanting to startle or scare her away.
He halted when he noticed her getting up. Her eyes were glossy and he felt a knife stab deep into his heart. His eyes widened an inch when she approached him at the same time as he did.
"Can I touch you?" he asked, not caring about the quiver in his voice.
She nodded, looking up at him with her big brown eyes and that was all the consent he needed. In one stride he reached her and pulled her hand as she crashed into his chest, her warmth drawing him into a peaceful dream.
Theo buried his head in her hair, inhaling deep breaths of that scent. He didn't know what to call it except that it was her scent. It belong solely to her and he could recognize it anywhere no matter what. He felt her loose up against him as he pulled her in closer, wanting to make their bodies one.
Heaven, he thought to himself. He couldn't think any further as her hands slowly patted his back, calming him down to the very core.