Sitting there with all her gothic air, night hair, black dress, he looked at the TV; it was an art documentary.
Daru smiled; she loved art, and rightfully so. He knew from the sketches he had made her show that she had the potential for it.
'Only if she let certain things go,' Daru thought to himself as he watched Sonam's back. He could very much visualize her deep eyes, like the sky in the darkest hours of night. And her lips, her pink lips she made a point to touch. Why would you alter something that's already perfect?
Daru walked in slowly, minding not to make any sound. Arms away from her back, he snaked his arms around and covered her face.
Sonam, with a start, tried to reach for anything around her. In panic, she berated herself for having lost in her art documentary. "It's me," whispered Daru.
Like a spell, Sonam paused her movements, but her pupils dilated even more. While deathly still, even Daru could feel the electric tremors going through her body. Daru loosened his grip, muttering something in her ear.
Sonam, with lightning movements, turned her body in his arms. With the nimbleness of a feline getting on the sofa, she looked at him deeply. Her picturesque face with the look of a surprised cat brought a smile to Daru's face.
Then she jumped, jumped into his embrace, smushing her pink lips to his. Daru could do only one thing, wrap his hands back around her and fall into the softness, being pampered by it. He kissed her, feeling her lips that had evaded her all-black vibe. He could almost see the angel buried in her. A corner of her heart, untainted by her addiction and trauma.
When they separate to get a breath, Daru pulls her into his arms. Sonam wraps her legs around him; he whispers to her again to be silent. Then he carries her to the bedroom and lays her on the bed.
Daru then takes out a device that seemed to be on the cusp of turning into dust itself. 'It's bad, but it will get the job done.' This was a detector he had procured with much difficulty. He had better sources, but that would expose him, which he can't have. 'Anything is better than nothing.'
Michele, the ever-watchful William, had taught him a lot. Even more when he had joined the organization. And knowing how the lawyer operated, he knew he would require this.
He gave the room a full sweep. Sonam looked on with a knotty expression; she might have a guess, but she really did not want it to be true.
As Daru circled the room and collected some pieces, she knew her doubt was real. Daru comes to the bed, looks at Sonam, then shows the bugs he had collected. Sonam was fuming.
Daru balled his fist, and right before he crushed them, he decided not to. Whether William or Jason was behind it, and for only one reason — their manifestation of fear. One trying to lay one more false safe, the other trying ever so hard to cage the bird who fell for him once.
He brought the bugs outside, to the hall. He knew of these models, seen them before, used them before. They didn't have a lot of range, so keeping them at a distance would suffice, and the perpetrators would have no clue of anything happening.
He walks to the bedroom. Sonam is still on the bed, her shaking body showing how pissed she is. When he enters, Sonam snaps to look at him.
And sees a look he recognizes; he has seen it many times. The look of a woman looking to cuck, though she and Jason are long past having any relationship. It will still kill him if he ever knew what exercises he has had with his once love.
He takes in her gaze and walks towards her. 'It's gonna be hella fun,' he thinks to himself. Revenge sex always comes with the wildness and degeneracy all men would kill for. That's why he has mastered recognizing the look. He is so good that he was able to notice the same spite Sydney had for William. Less on that thorny bitch and more on the sexy cat clawing at his clothes.