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As his gaze narrowed on her pitiful form, his entire focus dimmed until there was only her.
Her with the oversize dress that swallowed her whole. Her with the red cheeks stained by salty tears. Her with those fucking alluring eyes that hauntedandhunted him until there was nothing else but her.
Venezia. Zia.Hispet.
This confusing creature whom he'd barely begun to understand.
She whipped her head around, somehow hearing his approach even through the sounds of her labored breathing and ceaseless sobs.
Her eyes grew wide as she noted his taut features—could sense the unyielding intensity emanating from him.
It was like reality shifted in one second as she scrambled to her feet, throwing her tablet and earbuds in her bag before dashing away.
She looked…terrified.
Of him.
His lips flattened into a thin line and as he saw her pick up her pace before breaking into a full on run, he gave chase.
"Stop running," he shouted as he saw her grow increasingly more anxious.
She went down a pebbled path in the middle of the park, looking behind her every now and then to ascertain the distance between them. And when she saw he was gaining ground, she grew more desperate.
So desperate that she didn't even look where she stepped, her foot catching in a big stone right in the middle of the path. Losing her equilibrium, she swayed on her feet for a brief moment—one that had Michele's heart stop in his chest—before she tripped and fell.
The sound of the crash made him physically wince, especially as he finally reached her.
On her knees, she managed to brace herself on her palms. But that didn't take away from the fact that the ground was harsh and abrasive, likely hurting her.
His pulse drumming in his ears, Michele crouched next to her.
It was then that she lifted her face to look at him.
Big, soulful eyes filled with tears. They spoke of pain, heartache and more pain.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a soft voice.
She was like a wounded animal caught in a hunter's trap, and he could see her sense of preservation kicking in as she looked wildly around her in an attempt to locate an exit, or someone to help her.
But there was no one around.
Just them.
"Let me help you up," he reached for her.
She was frozen in place, almost as if she didn't realize what had happened.
Taking her backpack first and swinging it over his shoulder, he gently grabbed her by her ribcage, slowly lifting her up. Her hands were still in the air, and he noted the pebbles had imprinted in her skin, a few scrapes already gaining a red hue.
His eyes went lower and he saw the gashes on her knees. One was worse than the other, the skin torn and blood flowing down her leg.
He swore softly under his breath before picking her up and taking her back to the bench. All the while his pet didn't say one word.
She held herself still, her breathing harsh, her eyes wide with fear.
Placing her on the bench, he went on his knees in front of her as he assessed the damage.
It didn't look pretty. And it certainly didn't help that she seemed to be in some type of shock.
