Aurelia
I am a girl, an ink between the pages. I am a girl who finds peace and comfort in books. A girl who can't open up to anyone but best in expressing herself in words. I am a girl with many emotions but can't control. A girl whose best friend is silence and solitude. A girl who loves speaking with her mind and conversing with her pen. I am a girl whose heart blooms like a spring flower with a smile so bright like morning sunshine. Dimples flashing by the cheeks amidst the pools of chocolate, delivering the sweetest giggles. I am the girl. And that's what makes me 'me'. I am Aurelia Blackwood.
You know, that's the thing about being a writer and a reader at the same time. All characters become your friends and the world becomes your second home. When you finish the book, you become homesick of a place that never really exists. You feel broken yet alive. And you're left wanting for more.
One rule for all readers? Do not fall for the villain in the book.
Though I've ditched that rule the moment I started reading HD Carlton's Haunting Adeline.
That book? Perfect
And the male character? I'm already in love with him. Like OMG, Zade Meadows is everything a dark romance girlie will wish for!!!
Actually, I was writing my book Ink and Blood when I got stuck in chapter 35. Lord, I need some motivation. I actually ditched the manuscript to the side and that's when I started reading Haunting Adeline.
Reading is my therapy. Though, there's nothing therapeutic about the book I'm reading. Definitely not a book that involves a brooding and possessive stalker and a warning content that looks like a restaurant's menu.
I giggled while annotating every exciting quote, every messed up line and every dialogue I'd like to memorize. I smiled at my own masterpiece; red and black highlighters decorated the page.
I reached for my black pen only to realize that I was out of ink. Oh no! Not my precious black pen. Now I'll have to get a new one because I can't survive a day without a black pen.
The bookstore around me, usually cozy and comforting suddenly felt too quiet and suffocating.
I pouted, staring at the pen as if it'll refill itself.
A pen appeared in front of my face. The pen didn't appear on it's own right? Oh right, a man was standing in front of my desk.
Wait what?
I dragged my gaze upwards, slowly, taking my time, almost reluctantly. All black outfit, lean physique, sharp lines, brown hair, is that brown...no, amber eyes; cold and calculating with no hint of warmth that suddenly made my heart sink. The whole tiny book store narrowed to him. His eyes were smoldering with a certain intensity that made me feel like he's dissecting me with his gaze and I'm his specimen. I blinked once, then twice. It got me thinking if he stepped out of my book because... he's looking exactly as my main male character. I know it's crazy but... does someone like...him actually exist? In real life?
Lord help me.
"Perhaps your pen didn't really run out of ink" a deep, velvety sound filled my ears and I snapped out of my reverie and forced a smile.
"Oh..." I took the pen, embarrassed as hell. The pen was all black, just like him, brooding and all. It's giving that deadly and dangerous vibe I love so much. No brand, no writings, just matte black.
"Thank you" I muttered but he didn't reply. That made me look up at him. He had my book! My manuscript!
I fought every urge not to get up and snatch the book away from him but when his lips curled up to an utterly disturbing deadly smirk, I shrunk back to my seat.
Who the hell is this man?!
He briefly flipped his gaze towards me before locking it back to the manuscript with an amused smirk.
'With blood- stained hands, he held her face like something precious and whispered "I told you not to trust a villain like me but you did. Now, I'll go on my knees with this dagger in my hand and you'll trust me not to hurt you"' he read aloud the last line I wrote and looked down at me, his amber eyes smoldering with something I couldn't quite tell.
His head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed, studying me...no, dissecting me again.
I bit my lower lip and tried not to give any reaction but this man right here is scaring the shit outta my life.
He took a slow deliberate step closer that made my heart hammer against my chest.
"You write about villains little writer" His voice was low and smooth rumble that vibrated through my bones. He set the book down and I'd swear I saw blood stain on his cuff. My stomach coiled so tight.
"But do you know what they do to girls like you?" He asked.
My mouth was desert- dry. I couldn't speak. I could only stare. He smirked again. A cruel devastating smirk. I'm sure he must be enjoying my silence.
His expression shifted to something even the writer that I am couldn't fathom and he gave me that look. That one that wasn't just a gaze but a vow that promises 'I could ruin you'.
He then moved, looming over me until he obstructed the view ahead of me. His scent hit me; something like whiskey, gunmetal and danger. It stole the little air left of me, filling my lungs with the scent of him.
He didn't touch me, but he was all over me.
His lips were breath away from my ear and his voice dropped an octave lower, just for me alone to hear.
"You don't know me, Little Writer"
It was a threat and a confession, so dark it blinded my imaginations for a while. A shudder left my body and he noticed. Of course he will. Those amber eyes notice everything. He smirked, edged with a dark satisfaction.
"But you will"