Chase pov::
I was wearing a black suit with a red tie. A red tie-what nonsense! Why in the world would I do such a childish thing? But I did, and do you know why? Because of her.
I saw her, and my heart sank. I moved toward her, each step bringing me closer. My heart was sinking. Is she real? This was the only thought running through my mind. Everything was blur around me; I saw only her. She was sitting near a huge fountain, water dripping with such elegance. The fountain was covered with roses, making it beautiful, but not as beautiful as her. Nothing could ever be as beautiful as her.
She was wearing a red, off-shoulder gown. Her milky skin was hypnotizing. I wore the red tie to match her outfit. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded wearing an entire red suit if it meant matching with her. Even if it made me look like a clown, I didn't care. I'd be her clown.
Her back was facing me, but nothing could beat the dreamy look of her. It was her-how could I not recognize her? So what if she wasn't facing me? I could feel her presence. Her scent, her innocence, her purity-I felt everything. She was playing with the water, and I could sense the smile on her face. Her hand moved elegantly in the water, making me jealous of the water touching her.
I got nearer to her, completely lost in admiring her as she admired the water. I just wanted to keep looking at her and never look away. She slowly turned her gaze toward me.
"Petal," her name slipped through my mouth like the sweetest candy.
"Chase," she called, her innocent, pure eyes locked with mine.
She smiled softly, and it was enough to kill me. Her eyes held such a spark that every expensive thing in the world seemed less shiny in comparison.
My hands were shaking. I couldn't believe she was in front of me. My legs were trembling with nervousness. She must have noticed because she lowered her face with a soft smile. She didn't judge me for being this way in front of her. She never did. I didn't see a single expression on her face indicating that she would use my vulnerability against me. If she wanted, she wouldn't even have to ask; I'd do anything and everything she said without uttering a single word of defense. If she told me to die, I wouldn't even blink-I'd die on the spot.
Before I fell to my knees in weakness and overwhelmed emotion, I sat in front of her. She just looked at me, her hand still in the water. I offered her my hand. "Dance with me," I asked, my heart racing. Would she reject me? I was scared.
But instead, she smiled again. "I can't say no," she said, giving me her hand.
My happiness was beyond control. I stood, taking her hand and pulling her up from the water, which made me jealous because it was touching her, not me. Having her all to myself made me feel on cloud nine.
I gently led her to the center of the dance floor, the world around us fading into a blur. As the music swelled, she held her gown and spun around me counterclockwise. I followed her with my eyes, and as she came back to the front, she fell into my arms. I held her waist, and she smiled at me. I pulled her up, placing my right hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the fabric. She placed her right hand on my shoulder, and her touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't believe she was here, in my arms, dancing with me. We locked our left hands together.
Our eyes locked, and my heart synced with hers as we began our dance. I took a step forward with my left foot, and she moved back with her right. "Don't go away," I silently begged, and she just smiled, teasing me. I stepped to the side with my right foot, and she mirrored me with her left. I brought my left foot closer to her right, drawing us closer, and she brought her right foot next to my left. I moved back, and it filled me with utmost joy when she stepped forward. Our dance was more than just a series of steps; it was a beautiful push-and-pull of our hearts. She wasn't pulling away from me; she was pulling my heart closer to hers. Nothing could break us apart.
We moved together in perfect harmony, each step a testament to our connection. I marveled at Petal's grace, her every movement elegant and pure. Her smile lit up the room, making my heart beat faster with each glance. I was lost in her mesmerizing gaze, unable to tear my eyes away.
I led her through the steps of the dance, our bodies swaying in sync with the music. As we twirled around the floor, I spun her gently, her dress billowing out like a flower in bloom. She laughed, the sound like a melody all its own, and my heart soared.
With a swift motion, I pulled her back into my arms, her body fitting perfectly against mine. We moved together effortlessly, each touch igniting a fire within me. I guided her through a series of intricate steps, my hand never leaving her waist. She followed my lead, her trust in me evident in every movement.
As the music quickened, so did our pace. I spun her again, this time catching her just before she could fall. I held her close, our faces inches apart, and for a moment, time stood still. Her breath mingled with mine, and I could feel the rapid beat of her heart matching my own.
I lifted her effortlessly, her feet leaving the ground as we moved with the rhythm of the song. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her eyes locked on me, and I knew I was lost to her forever. Every touch, every glance, was a reminder of her innocence, her elegance, her purity.
As the song reached its crescendo, I twirled her one final time, then pulled her into my arms, holding her tight. We stood there, breathing heavily, our hearts racing like cars on a track. I looked into her eyes, seeing my entire world reflected back at me.
"I can't believe you're here with me," I whispered, my voice filled with awe.
She smiled, her hand gently caressing my cheek. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
"Sir," I heard. "Sir, wake up," I heard again.
Her smile dropped, and it made me sad. Her eyes filled with tears, and it broke my heart. She pulled herself out of my grip.
"You will hurt me," she said, looking at me with utmost grief in her eyes. A tear left her eye, breaking my heart further.
"No, I never will," I said, reaching to wipe her tear. But before my hand could reach her, she started disappearing, fading right in front of me.
"No, not again, please," I begged. She didn't hear me and kept disappearing, leaving me alone. "No!" I shouted.
I woke up abruptly. She wasn't there; it was just a dream. It broke my heart more than it had before.
"Are you alright, sir?" I looked up; it was my servant. He had made my love go away. "Get the hell out," I shouted at him.
A tear escaped my eyes. I felt my heart being pulled away from my chest just by thinking of how she had disappeared again, leaving me all alone. It was just yesterday when I vowed that if I found her, I would never let her go again.
"Chase," my friend called, taking my attention.
"You're crying," he said, concerned.
"Why would I?" I lied.
"Oh, is that so? It must be your eyes betraying you," he said, getting closer.
"What do you mean?" I asked, touching my face and realizing I was crying.
"What do you say now?" he asked.
"Forget about it. Why are you here?" I said, trying to change the topic.
"What else? Get ready," he replied.
"For what?" I asked, puzzled.
"For what, seriously?" He made a shocked face.
"Oh, shit," I remembered. I checked the time; it was already 9 AM. "Why didn't they wake me earlier?" I said angrily, getting out of bed.
"They must be afraid of your temper," he said, fueling my anger.
I just gave him a look, and he shut his mouth.
End of chase pov::
...
She was covered in sweat, clutching the blanket tightly. Her heart was beating like a drum. He had caught her. He had caught her trying to escape. He was furious with her. Every step he took towards her blurred her vision; she felt like she would pass out from fear. She held her dress tightly, making her own hand bleed with her nails. She needed something to hold onto, something to keep her from collapsing. Her knees were getting weak.
He came closer, just an inch away, his angry eyes not blinking, making her scared to death. He leaned near her ear, his breath hit her face. "I warned you, you would never escape me. You promised me you wouldn't."
"I wasn't escaping," she said, her voice barely audible. Blood dripped, staining the white dress she was wearing.
"You weren't?" he asked.
She nodded her head. "Look me in the eyes and tell me," he demanded. "Do it," he insisted, raising his voice. "Do it!" he shouted, making her shiver with fear.
She looked up, locking her eyes with his. All she saw was anger, anger that could kill her and eat her alive. "SAY IT!" he demanded.
"Say it!" he shouted, raising his hand to slap her.
"Please , I wasn't escaping, I swear I wasn't," she cried desperately.
He grabbed her arm roughly, his grip like a vice, and shook her violently. "You're lying," he hissed, his face inches from hers. She felt his rage pouring over her like a tidal wave, suffocating her.
"I'm not lying," she cried desperately.
"You won't understand like this," he said coldly. "I need to teach you a lesson. You must be taking me lightly. Should I kill her to prove how wrong you are?" he demanded, yanking her arm to make her look at the girl tied to a chair on the other side of the room.
"Please, no! I told you I wasn't escaping. I just got lost. She has nothing to do with this. Please, leave her alone," she begged, her voice breaking with fear.
Without acknowledging her pleas, he aimed a gun at the girl bound to the chair. The girl shook her head in terror, pleading silently with her eyes. She saw a cruel smirk on his face as he tightened his grip on the trigger.
The sudden sound of the gunshot and the girl's terrified scream pierced through her, shattering her already frayed nerves.
"No!" she shouted, waking from the dream.
The shock and horror were so overwhelming that she jolted awake with a scream, her heart racing and her body drenched in sweat.
Looking around brought her some peace; she was in her room. Once again, it was a dream. Realization hit her, and she was torn between relief and threat, a warning. She was still holding the covers tightly, her breath slowly returning to normal, but it was still a long way to go. She released the cover and found them covered in blood. She had really cut her own hands with her nails. It only made her tear up again. She curled her body closer and hid her head in her lap, crying badly. What was happening to her? Who was this man? Why was he behaving like this to her? And why was she so scared of him? Everything was beyond her understanding.
It must have been 15 minutes already, and she was still crying. She might have continued, but her dad's knock on her door brought her out of her trance.
"Petal," her dad knocked on the door.
She panicked, worried that if her dad saw her like this again, he would be even more concerned.
"May I come in?" he asked.
Seeing the blood, she quickly covered the seat with blanket to hide the blood stain . But what about her hands?
"May I?" he asked again. She heard the door begin to open.
She hurriedly wiped her tears, hoping he wouldn't notice. She cleared her throat, trying to mask her trembling voice. Her heart was still racing like a fast train.
He entered with a tray in his hand, holding her morning coffee. He went silent when his eyes landed on her.
"Good morning, Dad," she forced a smile, trying to keep calm.
"Petal," he said softly, moving closer. He set the tray on the table.
He looked at her, and she gave him another forced smile.
"What happened?" he asked, sitting beside her, his heart breaking at the sight of her red, tear-streaked face. Despite her attempts to hide it, her eyes and trembling body betrayed her distress.
"Nothing," she lied, trying to conceal her hands under the blanket.
He noticed the blood and tried to pull her hands out. She resisted, saying, "Nothing happened, Dad," hoping he would listen.
He continued to look at her with a comforting gaze, making it clear that he was there for her. Reluctantly, she let him take her hands out from under the blanket. When he saw her blood-covered hands, she lowered her face in shame, feeling weak. His heart broke at the sight.
"It was him again, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice filled with anguish. Her silence was the answer he feared.
Tears welled up in his eyes. His daughter was in so much pain, and he felt powerless to protect her.
"I'm sorry, Petal. I'm so sorry," he cried, bringing her hands to his forehead, begging for forgiveness.
"Why are you saying sorry, Dad? It's not your fault," she said, crying.
"It is my fault, Petal. I'm failing to protect you," he sobbed.
"It was just a dream, Dad, like you always say," she said, trying to be brave. Her heart was breaking. She wondered why she was so weak, why a mere dream could affect her so deeply and burden her father with worry.
He shook his head, understanding that it wasn't just dreams but possibly memories her mind was replaying, ones she had forgotten but were still haunting her.
...
Her dad applied cream to her hands.
"It's not that much, Dad," she said.
He gave her a look that clearly said he wasn't buying it. She knew he wouldn't listen, so she let him continue.
She told him about the dream she had.
"Dad, will he ever leave me?" she asked, sobbing.
"He's not real, Petal," he said soothingly.
"But he feels so real," she said, lowering her face.
"Get ready; I'll take you to therapy," he suggested.
She looked at him and simply nodded her head.
They sat in silence for a minute, both lost in their own thoughts, when Petal's phone rang.
She looked at it and saw it was her mom.
"Mom," she said, a smile appearing on her face.
She answered the call, "Hello, Mom."
"Hello, sweetheart. Where are you?" her mom asked.
"What do you mean?" Petal asked, confused.
"You're getting late. I wanted to meet you before the ritual starts. I wanted to walk with you on the aisle " her mom said.
Petal looked at her dad in confusion. He asked with his eyes what was going on. Her eyes widened as she realized. She covered the phone's speaker with her hand. "It's today-Mom's wedding," she said.
"Shit, how could we forget? She'd kill us," her dad said, alarmed.
"Hello, sweetie, are you still on the call?" her mom's voice came through.
"Give it to me," her dad whispered urgently.
She handed him the phone.
"Hello, Maya," he said, trying to sound calm.
"Hello, William. Where are you guys?" Maya asked.
"Sorry, we just got stuck in traffic. We're on our way," he lied.
"Come quick," Maya urged.
"Okay," he said.
"Is Petal wearing the gown I sent?" Maya asked.
"Of course," he lied again.
"Perfect! I can't wait to see her," Maya said excitedly.
"Okay, Maya, we need to go now. Bye," he said, cutting the call before she could respond.
"How could we forget?" Petal said, still in shock.
"Thank God she called. Otherwise, we'd have faced a major scolding later. Now, come on, let's be quick," her dad said.
"Yeah, right," she agreed, scrambling to get ready.
.....
She wore the gown her mom had sent-a red gown with no sleeves. The fabric accentuated her milky skin, making her glow. She left her hair down, naturally beautiful, dreamy, and wavy, giving her a perfect, innocent, and pure look. She wore a single gold bracelet and small earrings but no other jewelry or makeup. She didn't need any; her natural beauty outshone anything makeup could achieve. She looked like a princess.
Her dad entered her room and was taken aback by her appearance.
"Dad, how do I look?" she asked nervously.
"Perfect, as always," he replied, his eyes full of admiration.
"You too," she said, glancing at him.
He was dressed in a blue suit and held a bouquet of roses.
"Let's go now. We'd better prepare for the scolding in the car," he said with a chuckle.
"Yeah," she agreed, smiling. They left for the wedding, excited .
...
Arrangements were all done, and guests were already arriving. He was engaged in conversation with his business partners. The hall had a black theme and was decorated with red roses, all part of Maya's idea-he hadn't been particularly interested in the theme initially. The hall was adorned with delicate white and red roses, their scent mingling with the fresh, crisp morning air. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the pews filled with friends and family. The organist began to play a soft, reverent prelude that set the tone for the sacred ceremony.
"Shall we start?" the priest asked him.
"Yes, sure," he replied, glancing at his watch. It was already late.
He took his place at the altar.
"Bring the bride," the priest instructed.
His friend left to call them but returned alone and whispered something in his ear.
"What happened?" the priest asked.
"She's waiting for someone to come," the friend explained.
"Let's wait a bit," he said.
"Ok " the priest agreed.
---
Petal and her dad arrived at the wedding hall.
"We're so late, Dad. Mom will be so angry," she said.
"She'll forget all her anger the moment her eyes land on you," her dad said, making her blush.
They looked around at the luxurious and expensive hall.
"Your stepdad seems to be quite wealthy," her dad remarked.
"It looks like it," she agreed.
They stepped out of the car.
The moment she got out, she felt eyes on her. There were men outside talking, but now they were staring at her. She noticed smirks on their faces, which made her a little uncomfortable.
"Let's go, darling," her dad said, offering her his arm.
She smiled and took his hand, and they went inside.
...
His friend informed him that Maya was in a bad mood and had said she wouldn't come out until her guests arrived. He was growing bored, still standing at the altar waiting for Maya. He had already been through this and now she was causing this fuss.
His eyes landed on the decorative roses. They reminded him of his dream. A small smile appeared on his face as he thought, "It would be the death of me if only this were true, her with me in reality and not just in a dream." He continued to think about her while gazing at the roses. He sighed and looked toward the entry gate.
And then he saw her. His world stopped. The ground seemed to slip from beneath his feet, his arms fell to his sides as he stood in shock. She was holding a bouquet of roses, her arm linked with her father's. A small smile graced her face.
To be continued...