FINALLY! I have been trying to figure out how to end this story since I started writing it, and I've spent the last few days trying to figure out how to get out of the slump I was in. Luckily, the fabulous Kelsey Rose stepped in and helped me figure out exactly what needed to be done. Thanks Kelsey!! Thanks to EVERYONE who is reading and reviewing, I love writing, and plan to write many more stories, so keep an eye out for them. I know this chapter is kind of long, but please keep reading! This wraps this story up, but there will be many more like this. I hope it's worth the wait!!
He released her hand a moment later, and she pulled back in one quick movement. Without missing a beat, the same hand he'd held just seconds ago swung around and smacked him squarely in the face. She retreated quickly, her eyes wide as his hand came up to rest on his stinging cheek. She held her breath, and he watched her with dark eyes as she cowered on the other side of the room. She glanced down at her hand; it was red, and the swift contact had left it tingling. She could only imagine that his face felt somewhat similar. She wasn't completely sure why she'd hit him; perhaps because he'd called her a bitch, or he'd been gripping her hand a little too tightly. Maybe it was because she no longer felt in control of the situation, and she couldn't have that. She had made her reputation on having power over others, and he'd given her the feeling that he literally had her at his fingertips. She had panicked, and slapped him. Hard.
He rubbed his cheek, still looking at her. She no longer looked like a frightened child, but a wild animal that had been cornered. Her eyes were dark and angry, and her body language told him that she wasn't scared of what consequences might follow her actions.
He tried to reason himself out of the feelings he'd had when she'd been so close to him, close enough to smell her perfume, and the soap she'd used. It had been crazy, of course. He didn't normally feel attracted to her, and had always considered her a nuisance; a mar on an otherwise perfect career. He had looked into those silver-blue eyes many times, and had never before felt the passion he'd felt in that exact moment. He'd never wanted anything else but to be as far away from her as humanly possible, and he couldn't shake the feeling that in that one moment, no matter how long or short it had been, he had wanted her. Wanted to kiss her, hold her, and maybe even more. It had been something about the fervor in her eyes at that moment that he had never seen before. He had never seen her so intrigued in something; had never noticed that unmistakable fire that burned just beneath her pupils.
He had never seen her so intimately before, and though he wanted to deny it, he knew that it had aroused him. She had piqued his curiosity with one simple look, and she didn't even know it. It was an odd sensation. He had never done anything but detest her. Now, on top of that emotion, there was something else; an insatiable appetite to taste her lips, to feel his skin on hers, and he knew that it was all wrong. That's what made it all the more appealing.
The stinging in his cheek subsided a moment later, and he reached up to loosen his tie and unbutton the collar of his shirt. He could feel her eyes watching him, and he wanted to say something to her, but couldn't. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the form of her body, sliding down the wall and into a sitting position on the floor. Her large dress billowed around her, and she looked beaten down. It made him pity her for a moment, until he remembered that she was the one who had made this entire evening a nightmare so far.
He caught her glaring at him, and noticed how hateful she looked. There was nothing beautiful about her at that moment. Still, he wanted to touch her. It frightened him, because he'd never felt this way about anyone so much younger than him; and definitely not any of the council girls. Something about the way she'd held herself when she'd be so close to him, though; he just couldn't stop thinking about it. There was no soft spot in his heart for her, either. He hated her; the way she walked, and talked, the way she acted like every person she met was simply a peon in her kingdom. She was just a blatant bitch. And yet, he was attracted to her.
They were silent for a long time. Corny tried not to feel guilty that he was here, on the couch, and she was slumped in the corner, her dress nearly swallowing her alive. He knew the floor couldn't be comfortable; it was cold, and cement. It wasn't that he wanted her near him again; he was still trying to forget that those thoughts had even passed through his mind moments ago, but it was morals. His mother had raised a gentleman; one who wasn't supposed to call ladies inappropriate names, one who offered his seat to a lady. But, then again, she wasn't a lady. This was Amber. Still, he knew it wasn't right.
"Come on, Amber." He scooted to the side of the couch, leaving a space big enough for her to sit with plenty of room in between them. She glanced up at him, her eyes full of suspicion.
"What?" She sounded suspicious.
"Come sit on the couch." He knew it was stupid, changing his mind suddenly after they'd been here for what seemed like hours already, but the long day was beginning to have its effect on him, and he couldn't imagine getting any sleep sitting in a corner.
"Oh, yeah, right," she mocked him, "Like I'm going to sit next to the man who called me a bitch and tried to break my fingers." He shouldn't have expected anything different from her; she always had to make a bad situation worse. This was no exception.
"I didn't-" He sighed, and rolled his eyes. It was useless. She wasn't going to carry on a conversation with him like a normal adult, so he would stop trying. "Amber, just come sit down. I'm not going to touch you, or talk to you, or look at you. It's going to be a long night if you're slumped over in the corner."
It took a long while, but she eventually straightened her posture and stood, her high heels clicking as she walked across the room. She slid onto her corner of the couch and nudged her shoes off her feet, making sure to keep her body turned away from him. She propped her elbows on the arm rests, sighing into the silence of the room. She pulled her feet up, and tucked them under her billowing skirt.
The silence that fell between them was awkward, but was magnified as he studied her profile, wondering why she felt she needed to be so on-guard at all times. He wondered if, when she was alone, she was this way; constantly looking over her shoulder, trying to find someone to blame for all of her problems. He couldn't imagine her any other way, so he decided that she must be. Her mother had probably cultivated her to hate everyone without discrimination, and only be aware of those who could give her something when she wanted it. Velma had, in all certainty, raised Amber from the cradle to believe that she was born naturally superior to all others, and that there would never be a time when she should feel sorry, or ashamed for anything she'd ever do. The thought made him pity her, but then he heard her scoff and remembered that there was nothing unfortunate about this girl's life. She was handed everything she ever wanted, and was sure she'd find a way to get the rest of what she needed. With Velma as a role model, she was destined for some great, if not immoral,things.
"I just want to go home," her words were quiet, and wistful, as if he were purposely holding her captive in a small cell. She had spoken so softly that he wasn't even completely sure that she'd wanted him to hear her. Of course, he had.
"I think we've already established that we both want that."
She sent him a sharp look, but didn't speak. He watched from the corner of his eye as she attempted to curl her body into a comfortable position, her head resting upon her arm as she closed her eyes. He decided to follow her lead and rested his head against his arm, turning away from her. They stayed like that a few minutes, and then he heard Amber groan.
"Can you at least turn the light off, Corny? God, I feel like I'm sleeping on the sun, it's so bright in here." He picked his head up to look at her, but she was hiding her eyes beneath her forearm. He sighed and stood, walking to the lamp and switching it off. The room fell into blackness, and he felt his way back to the couch, narrowly avoiding hitting against the few pieces of furniture that stood between him and his destination. He found his spot and curled back against the arm rest, letting his eyelids droop. They were both quiet as they tried to drift off to sleep, but the cramp in his neck from resting his head on his arm told him that he wouldn't be dozing off anytime soon. He sat in the darkness, listening to the rhythm of her breath as she rested just feet away from him. He thought for a moment that she might be sleeping, and shifted on his side of the couch, trying to reach the same state of rest she was in. He closed his eyes, and let his mind start to wander through the inevitably nonsensical thoughts that precede sleep. Just when he felt himself beginning to drift off, her heard a shriek start just feet away from him.
The scream escalated in pitch, until he was on his feet, stumbling through the dark to find the light switch to see what had happened to her. Before his fingers found it, though, he heard her voice.
"Don't fucking touch me!" Her voice was shrill, and its harshness made him jump. He stopped searching for the light switch, and glared in her general direction in the darkness.
"Excuse me?" He was sincerely confused.
"I said, don't touch me!" He could hear her slapping her hands over her arms and legs, and he supposed she was trying to rub away the lingering feeling of a touch.
"What are you talking about?" He moved slowly in the darkness and back to the couch, feeling his way back into his position. She continued to writhe beside him, and he rolled his eyes in the darkness. "I didn't touch you. It must have been a bug or something."
He heard her frenzied pace slow beside him, and he thought for a moment about getting up to turn the light on, but then decided that it would only keep them awake longer and hurt their eyes. She didn't seem so panicked anymore, so he wasn't worried about checking to see what had been crawling on her. That was, if anything had even been crawling on her. She had probably just wanted to use it as another excuse to bitch at him.
"Well, whatever. I should have figured I wouldn't be able to get a moment's sleep in here with you." Her words were sharp edged, and her tone of voice made him angry. That wasn't anything unusual, of course, but the fact that his touch was enough to make her scream; that bothered him. Who was she to act like he was some kind of leper? He moved slowly, sensing her next to him, and moved his face closer to hers. Without thinking, he rested his hand on her shoulder, and felt her flinch.
"Believe me, Amber; if I was touching you, you would know it." He couldn't hide what he was feeling now. There was something about her soft skin beneath his fingertips that made him want her even more.
He thought her heard her gasp at his words, but noticed that she didn't move from beneath his touch. He felt something inside him stir, and she turned slightly. He could feel strands of her hair tickling his fingers as she turned her head toward him. It was too dark for either of them to see anything, but he could imagine the look on her face. She was probably biting her lip, the way she always did when she was nervous.
He felt her move towards him, and let his hands move upwards, as they came closer together. It didn't make any sense, but his fingers were cupping her chin and his thumb was brushing her lips, and he knew that he had to kiss her. He couldn't resist anymore. As he went to lean in, she surprised him by pushing him back, her lips covering his in such a surprising kiss that he lost his breath for a moment. He wanted to be the one in control of this situation; it felt like that was how it should be, but he knew she hated losing power. He didn't care, and the way her mouth was working over his told him that she wouldn't either. In a quick moment, he had her pushed back against the couch, his body pressing against hers as he kissed her. He heard her groan beneath him, and released her mouth for a moment to hear her speak.
"You make me sick," she whispered the words against his ear, but didn't struggle to pull away from him. He found her mouth again, and she returned the kiss willingly, moaning beneath him.
"The feeling's mutual." There was no more need for words, and he enveloped her lips in another caress, both of them too full of lust to go on fighting.
He knew they could go back to hating each other tomorrow, when someone came into the studio and discovered them inside this room, but right now, in the blackness of this room, he would love her, and only the two of them would ever have to know.