Sereia's POV
"You can take whichever bed you'd like," he said as he grabbed a pillow from one of them.
I wanted to tell him to stay, but I think it'll be best for him to sleep on the couch considering what just happened.
I'm mad.
I was just an inch away from a kiss with him.
"Thanks," I drily answered and the air between us became tensed.
"I'll meet you out front," he said before taking the pillow to the couch and then leaving the room.
He still had business deals to make and I had a workshop.
...
We silently walked on the sidewalks of Manhattan as we both held drinks to our mouths.
I had pink lemonade while he had iced tea.
It had been a long day and traffic was tight, so Elliot decided that we should foot it again.
We didn't speak much today other than him asking where I placed his files and what I did at my workshop.
He slowed down when we neared a flower shop.
I trailed behind him l as he walked up to the purple flowers which were neatly planted in an orange pot.
"I'll take these," he pointed at flowers as he talked to the old man who was selling them.
He pulled the cash out of his wallet before he picked up the flowers.
I looked away out of nervousness when he began to approach me.
"For you," he said as he stretched them out to me. "They are your favourite, right?"
My head slowly turned the face the deep, velvety purple flower. At the centre of the flower, a tiny burst of yellow adds a subtle brightness.
It looked cute, but they weren't my favourite.
I'd been well versed with flowers growing up.
Dahlias and Peonies were my favourite.
"Thank you, but they are not," I told him politely as I accepted them. "In fact, this is my first time seeing them in real life."
His eyebrows knitted together as he fell in deep thought. "Is violet perhaps your favourite colour?"
I shook my head. "No, not at all. Where are you getting this from?"
"It's just that you kept repeating the word violet over and over in your sleep."
There was a pit in my stomach.
"Violet was the name of my sister," I explained softly.
He let out a deep sigh. "I'm so sorry, Sereia. I just wanted to lighten the mood between us a little."
I smiled at the fact that he cared.
"I'm guessing you two were close?" he asked as we began walking again.
I hesitated to answer.
I've never talked about her with anyone. No one ever cared to ask and my father would shout at me if I called her name.
He's probably passed out drunk somewhere as we speak.
"The closest," I finally responded. "She was my best friend. When she died, I did too."
He nodded. "How old was she when she passed?"
"She was twenty-two," I told her. "If she were alive, you two would be around the same age."
"That's so young," his voice tinged with empathy as he took my flowers and held my flowers for me. "I can't imagine how much that would have broken you. That would mean you were only still in high school, right?"
I nodded. "A senior."
One thing I've realized since Violet died is how fragile life truly isâhow everything can change in an instant, leaving you with a void that nothing else can fill.
I miss my best friend.
"It's my fault," I admitted. "I should've been there for her."
"It's not your fault. Your sister made her own choices," he said. "You were barely an adult."
I chewed the sides of my cheeks as I tried to ignore his message.
He was trying to make me go easy on myself.
Someone has to be accountable for Violet's death and if his wife won't do it, I will.
He grabbed my arm and halted us both. "You need to forgive yourself, Sereia. Violet's death isn't your fault."
His facial expression was so serious, I began to feel guilty for riling him up like this.
"Say it."
"I-" my voice cracked. "I can't."
It is my fault.
I was such a selfish teenager.
I knew my sister was suffering, yet I didn't do much to help her.
I was rotten from the beginning.
What I'm doing now to him, deceiving him, has been in my nature since I was born.
I'm a bad person that he'll soon come to hate.
He softened his facial expression. "It's not your fault."
He wrapped his arms around my shoulder as we neared the hotel.
He held the door open as he guided us in.
I don't get it.
Why would he be with someone like her?
"What would you do if you found out the person closest to you is an abuser?" I asked with lethal bitterness in my tone as we entered the elevator.
He pressed our floor number before looking at me confused. "What?"
"What would you do?" I repeated.
He looked down on me, not wanting to answer my question.
"Please," I urged him and he submitted.
"I would use my power and make their life hell, close to me or not," he answered. "I don't tolerate exploitative behaviour. That's why people who betray me usually end up homeless."
I instantly received chills when I heard the last part.
His voice was so full of certainty.
He would make me homeless without hesitation.
The doors opened and we walked to our room.
Ah yes, we were sharing a room now.
"Why do you ask?" he questioned as he opened the door.
I walked in and he followed suit.
"I just wanted to get to know your character a bit more, that's all."
He seemed intrigued. "And what would you do?"
Exactly what I'm doing now.
"I would seek vengeance by hurting them and taking away the things they love."
He smirked as he looked at me dangerously. "Are you a little devil?"
"I don't know," I said while I maintained eye contact. "I guess you'll have to find out."
His breaths were slow and deep as he watched me intensely.
He shook his head as he headed to the kitchen. "I tell ya, it's always the sweet ones."
"I know, you have to watch out for us," I warned him as I followed behind him.
He filled a jug with water before placing my flowers in it.
As I watched him, I admired his height and body.
His head was above the cupboards and his width was wide and muscular.
I was a pretty tall woman myself, if 5'7" was considered tall, which I think it is.
He looked down on me. "Maybe I will."
A huge smile automatically grew on my face.
I don't know why I'm smiling my ass off.
All he did was look at me and say a normal sentence.
I usually fake my fakes, but as of recently, every time I was with him I naturally smiled.
I can't recall the last time I naturally smiled, even before Violet died.
"You hungry?"
"Starving," I replied and he smiled.
"Okay, okay," he nodded as he opened the cupboards. "Did I tell you that I am a chef?"
"Oh, really?"
He grinned, nodding again. "Yeah, I'm so good that I had to become a CEOâturns out the world just couldn't handle my culinary genius."
"You're ridiculous," I laughed as I helped him look for something to make.
"What about you?" he asked. "Are you a secret culinary genius?"
"Of course I am," I answered. "I bet I'm even better than you."
He suddenly brushed back the hair from my face. "Is that so?"
Everywhere in my body tingled as I felt the short skin-to-skin contact he made with me.
If his simple touch did such things to me, I can't imagine what longer, intimate touches would feel like.
He placed his fingers at the corner of my mouth and forced my lips to smile.
Just like he did the other day.
He smiled. "I love it when you smile."
My heart raced and that feeling in my stomach arose.
I knew then that I was in serious trouble.
...
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