This is so surreal.
With a sigh, he sweeps away, then vanishes up the stairs, leaving me to my steak. There are peas, carrots, and roasted potatoes, and my mouth salivates.
Carbs. Glorious, glorious carbs.
The words leave my mouth before I can stop myself. “Thank you.”
Sebastian freezes halfway up the stairs, and I swear he trembles. Have I offended him?
Shoot. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. Any moment, he will fly down those stairs and end my life.
So much for my steak with a side of carbs.
Slowly, he turns my way, and I gaze at the profile of his face. I notice the shape of his nose then. I think it’s described as aquiline. The best nose shape, in my opinion. Mine is snubbed and button-like; I wish I had a strong, pronounced nose.
“You’re welcome,” he rasps.
His voice is so monotone; it’s hard to believe that he isn’t a robot. Yet he’s a warm-blooded mammal, like me.
Neither of us speaks, and I don’t know what to do with myself. He’s still staring at me with those infinite eyes, and I’m not sure what else I should do.
So I do the only thing I can think of.I tell him my name.
“I’m… I’m Dove.”
His face conveys no emotion, and I really wish I knew what he was thinking. Have I angered him? Upset him in any way?
Finally, he scoffs, climbing the rest of the way up the stairs, and I guess he’s not one for small talk then.
Well, at least he didn’t kill me. I don’t want to hold my breath, though, thinking that I’m safe here. But for now, I’m alive.
That’s all that matters.
Finally, I sit on the bed and eat my steak. It’s medium-rare, just how I like it. He even gave me a sharp knife and fork, and this is the first time in years that I have eaten with cutlery.
I’m surprised he trusted me enough to hand me a knife. I bet they know all about my crime at the OCC.
Did he really trust me not to stab him? I’m not sure if I should feel touched. Still, the knife could come in handy...
I bet it can cut more than just steak.
***
Sebastian.
Dove. What an interesting name.
Just like the little turtledove that coos outside my window every morning. I wonder if Dove can sing just as lovely. She already has the face of an angel. So why not the singing voice?
I never believed in angels, yet the moment I looked into her sapphire eyes, I was sure a whole choir was singing.
Why does she have to be so goddamned beautiful? It’s going to make killing her harder. That’s if I am going to kill her.
I haven’t decided yet. For now, she’s just some pretty little doll for me to look at. Yet if I don’t act soon, then Roman will take matters into his own hands, and there’s no telling what I will do.
I have never had these kinds of conflicting emotions before, and I’m torn. Truly.
There’s one thing I am certain of. No one touches that omega but me. Her life is mine to take, not Roman’s or those bastards in the government. Her fate is in my hands, but it’s a burden I would rather not have.