The night was eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the sporadic whisper of the wind brushing against the window panes.
Elena tossed and turned in her sleep, her brows furrowing as vivid images flickered behind her closed eyelids, a deep frown marring her delicate face looking like she was having a terrifying nightmare, one that might take her soul.
A face, blurred and shadowed hovered in her mind, its features elusive and shifting like smoke. Sometimes it looked like the face was smiling and when it changes again, it became so blurred that she couldn't even dicern anything. It was so frustrating because any time she felt like she almost caught something, the face blurs again. Whether it was a female or not was something she would never know with how the visage morphed too swiftly for her to grasp. Even with the frustration that came with not seeing the face, this dream and person brought her immense peace and happiness. It was a very comfortable feeling.
The scene in the dream suddenly changed to that of blood.
A room drenched in crimson, pooling at her feet. The metallic scent filled her senses, thick and suffocating. Here, in this room, she was terrified and filled with fear with the feeling of someone coming for her life. The visuals of this scene was very clear unlike the first one. In this scene, Elena lost all feeling of happiness she was feeling moments ago, she was only feeling fear as if that's the only feeling known to her. Trembling, she sat in the pool of blood looking around frantically and when she saw the door opposite was being opened slowly, her frantic behaviour increased as she began pulling her own hair.
And then the scene of the dream changed again to that of fire.
It roared through the darkness, swallowing everything in its path. The heat licked at Elena's skin, searing, consuming. All that consumed Elena here was pain, an unbearable pain that came from the soul and entering into her bones and then everything stopped that she sighed. Even though all that she felt was emptiness now, it was better than pain. But Elena was deceiving herself because she hadn't thought long when, all the emotions she felt in the three scenes came together, attacking her all at once along with the burning fire. The emotions combined was too overwhelming for Elena that she felt like she was on the verge of death. Dream and reality became one for as she couldn't dicern whether she was awake or still in a dream.
Suddenly she gasped, jerking upright. Her body was drenched in sweat, her nightgown clinging to her like a second skin. Her throat was parched, dry as if the fire from her dream had burned through her in reality. She felt unreal. She felt like she just came back from hell.
Still trembling, she reached out blindly for the glass of water Nana had left on the nightstand just to find it empty. Elena let out a frustrated breath, her thirst was unbearable. Without hesitation, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet met the cool marble floor.
The silence of the mansion was deafening as she made her way downstairs, her mind was still clouded from the frightening dream, she didn't even notice the shadow she passed in the darkness neither did she notice the pair of eyes watching her every move.
---
The kitchen was dimly lit by the soft glow of the refrigerator light as Elena rummaged through the freezer. She pulled out a bottle of ice-cold water, twisted the cap off and took a long, greedy gulp. The sensation was heavenly, the chill spread through her chest as she swallowed. Completely unaware, she was being watched.
Lorenzo stood cloaked in the shadows, his gaze was fixed intently on her, a mix of fascination and raw desire flickering in his eyes as he watched her gulping the water.
He hadn't meant to be here but when he saw her ghosting through the halls, her nightwear clinging to her sweat-dampened body, he followed. And now—
Now, he was mesmerized. The way she lifted the bottle to her lips, her dainty fingers blushing against the cold surface, the way a single drop of water trickled down her chin, trailing lower and lower, sliding past her collarbone and disappearing beneath the damp fabric of her translucent nightgown.
Lorenzo clenched his jaw, his control—what little he had left was slipping.
---
Elena turned from the fridge, about to head back upstairs when she felt something shift in the air and before she could react, a large, powerful body pressed against her, trapping her between the cold fridge and burning heat. Elena's breath caught in her throat.
A scent, masculine and intoxicating wrapped around her. She knew it before she even turned. It was only Lorenzo that has the this scent, such intoxicating scent that even Elena took a deep breath. Her initial fear melted into relief, but it didn't last long. His presence was too overwhelming, he was too close.
She glanced up and her stomach clenched. His gaze was dark, clouded with something unreadable.
No, Elena knew what it was, such intense gaze can only be desire, a raw, unfiltered one. Her pulse pounded so loudly in her ears she could barely hear herself breathe.
She parted her lips, intending to call his name, to ask him what he was doing, but all that escaped was a tiny, pathetic squeak.
Heat rushed to her face when she heard the sound that came from her own mouth but this was different for Lorenzo as his eyes darkened further when he heard the sound, his focus moving to her small, dainty mouth.
"Elena…" His voice was gravel, rolling through her like a storm. His fingers brushed against the damp fabric of her nightgown, tracing the trail of water droplets that had tempted him moments ago.
Elena shivered through all this torment, her skin ignited under his touch, each nerve coming alive as he slowly followed the path down, lower, until her breath hitched.
The fridge behind her was cold but Lorenzo's body was anything but cold. Her hands pressed against his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.
He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her lips, his eyes flickering between her parted mouth and the place where his hand rested against her chest making Elena swallow hard.
She thought just for a moment that he was asking for permission nut before the thought could fully form—
He moved with sudden intensity, his lips crushed against hers, a fierce claiming, not a request as Elena had thought.
Elena gasped, her fingers tightening in his shirt as he deepened the kiss, heat exploded through her veins. She felt like she was back in the nightmare filled with fire but this fire was different, it's the kind of fire that had her aching for more.
His hands were everywhere, trailing over her waist, up her sides, his palm brushing over the sides of her breast, moving to her erect pebbled nipples before rubbing them with his thumb pad and then pinching them, all the while his tongue didn't stop sucking hers. And when she felt she couldn't take it anymore, he bent, leaning over chest, directing his gaze at her before biting her nipples, sucking on it, alternating between the two actions.
A small, breathy moan coupled with his name escaped her lips, and suddenly—
Lorenzo froze, his grip loosened and his hands falling to his sides. The kiss which was intoxicating and dizzying was ripped away.
Elena barely had time to register the loss before he pulled back completely; his expression unreadable.
His breathing was heavy and his body tense. And for a moment, he looked conflicted. Then, as if something dark had passed over him, his face turned cold.
Elena blinked, her mind still clouded from the heat of his touch and the sensation he had caused in her.
And then Lorenzo turned and left without any parting words, no explanation.
Just… gone.
---
Elena stared at the empty space he had just occupied; her chest rising and falling rapidly.
What just happened? She thought to herself. Thecquestion of why he stopped kept bugging her.
Why did he always push her away like this?
She looked down at herself, her nightgown wrinkled, her lips still tingling from his touch, and she felt something deep inside her stir.
A strange sadness filled her along with an unbearable longing.
She realised she wanted him. Even when he was cruel, when he didn't treat her well, when she knew he was dangerous, she wanted him.
---
Meanwhile, across town, Lorenzo stormed into his penthouse, his pulse erratic, his hands were shaking, his body was on fire.
He stripped off his shirt, stepping into the cold shower, but even the icy water couldn't wash away the memory of her warmth, her scent which was so intoxicating, her small dainty lips, her voice moaning his name.
He slammed his palm against the tiled wall, cursing under his breath. This was getting out of control. He really loses his control when he's with her. She was becoming an obsession, an obsession which he doesn't want to stop even when he knows the consequence.
And yet—
She still didn't remember him and that was the only reason he stopped. The only reason he let her go.
But if she remembered him.
Then there would be no stopping him.