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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1803674-Claimed
by jace
Rated: 13+ · Sample · Supernatural · #1803674
She knew that he was the most intense person she'd ever met but she never expected this
I was trapped and he knew it, the cocky bastard.

His eyes were the color of the midnight sky and his gaze was predatory. He walked toward me as if his feet were sampling the ground before devouring it completely. I knew he had a fierce attraction to fear but I couldn’t stop my heart from racing or my hands from shaking. My back was pressed against the rocks and I could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing. This beach really was beautiful.

Too bad my first impression of it will be ruined.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down. I knew he wouldn’t kill me, but the thought that he could in mere seconds without a trace of evidence was frightening enough. Even as I tried to calm myself, my every instinct was telling me to run far, far away and never look back, but my brain was telling me if I tried to run, I would not get away and it would only anger him, which would be much worse.
As he walked, his body was coiled like a spring, tense and ready to pounce. His smile was feline and sent chills down my spine.
I saw this as a terrifying game of cat and mouse with myself being the frightened, helpless mouse and Gaspard being the demonic cat. But in reality, this was no game. I was the oblivious mouse in a maze, running around in circles while the scientist watches from above, knowing my every move before I make it simply because he created the playing field. I was the mouse that was played with until the cat becomes hungry. Two weeks ago I would have laughed at this situation and said that it wouldn’t happen to me. Yet here I am, cornered and scared beyond belief as the boy I grew to trust and love, looked at me as if I were a future meal.

Somehow I knew this moment would change everything.

His body was mere inches from mine, so close I could make out the flecks of silver in his eyes and smell his heady scent of incense and cinnamon. But above all, He was so close; I could see every emotion move across his face like wind across a field of grass. I saw triumph, glee, and the one emotion that should frighten me the most; the one that always led to pain; the one I should never want to see again,

Lust.

His expression was the physical embodiment of carnal desire. I could see it in the look in his eyes, glazed and darkened with passion, his parted lips, and his tensely coiled body. He looked like a lion tensed and ready to pounce on its prey.

He looked like he wanted to devour me and I knew deep down, I wanted him to.

Gaspard was the most untamed person I had ever met. Everything he did seemed animal- like. He walked like a lion, beautiful, but lethal. His eyes were like a tiger, alluring, but only so he could snatch you up once you were in reach. His smile was like a snake, sinister, but it intriguing. Everyone wanted to know what was under Gaspard’s strange and exotic exterior.

I definitely regret it now.

During the time I spent with Gaspard, I realized he was the most charming person I have ever seen. Once, when he was questioned about his age at a bar, he talked to the bartender, and two minutes later, he declared every drink Gaspard had that night on the house. I have no idea how he did it, but it couldn’t bode well for me.

His smile was slow and deliberate, “Isolde, you seem nervous. Why is that?” His voice became low and sultry and his Italian accent grew impossibly thick. His voice ran through my ears like the darkest, sweetest molasses.

I knew he was aware of the power he had over me, but I didn’t show my weakness out of principle alone. Gaspard was not the kind of person one showed weakness around. He won’t sympathize or give you mercy, he will use your weakness and make it his strength and when the opportunity strikes, he will use it against you in the worst way possible. This man was deadly, in every sense of the word.

Everything about him was overpowering. He looked a little too attractive. His eyes were a little too sharp. His smile was a little too wide. His personality was a little too strong and his aura was a little too thick. There was only one word to describe Gaspard,

Overwhelming.

I mustered up my last bit of courage and spoke with a clear even voice. “I’m not nervous. You are just a little too close for comfort.”
His eyes said everything.

He knew I was lying.

“Nonsense, you looked like a mouse caught in the eyes of a cat. I already told you I will not hurt you.”

“Forgive me for not believing someone born in the fiery depths of Hell.”

He threw his head back and laughed, “Ah darling, I do admire your defiance. It will make your inevitable capitulation all the sweeter.” His fingers moved the stray strands of my hair away from my face. “I do hate that you hide such a beautiful face behind all this dark hair. He pulled my thick waist length hair up and put a pin in to hold it up. “Much better, you have such a sultry face. Your eyes are such a strange shade of green.”

Even though I was uncomfortable by his proximity, I couldn’t help the shudders that racked my body every time he touched me. His hands were very warm, almost hot.

He moved away from me and began to pace. He watched me intently, as if looking for the weakest spot before attacking. I felt like a rabbit in the eyes of a snake, but I couldn’t move if I tried. His eyes were bright and held me tighter than real arms ever could.

“I’m not prey, Gaspard.”

His resulting smile said otherwise. In a matter of seconds, he was barely an inch away from my face, our noses just touching. His scent relaxed my tense muscles against my will and I leaned further into the rock
.
“Then what are you, Isolde?”

“Human.”

“They are one and the same to me, bella.”

He ran a single finger down the back of my neck and slowly wrapped his entire hand around it. He lifted my head and stared down into my eyes.

“In my eyes, you are prey.”

My throat tightened from him words, but I felt calm. Something told me that Gaspard would honor his word and he would not hurt me.
I smiled, “If that was supposed to make me afraid of you, you’re wrong.”

He moved even closer, “Isolde,” his accent suddenly became very thick, and his voice coated my ears like honey and velvet, “bella donna do you really think I can be fooled that easily?”

I braced myself for the sentence that would change everything.

“You see Isolde, you are mine and I will never let you go.”

© Copyright 2011 jace (ilovetwilight at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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