pg 38 - Lace trimmingsMature

As soon as I'm around the wall, I feel Aidan's warm, somewhat rough fingertips circling around my wrist and gently lead me away. His hand slips further down to rather engulf my hand as he leads me up the flight of stairs I took when I walked to Clarisse's room earlier tonight. He walks straight past it and continues further down the passage.

We near the end of the wooden-floored corridor, our footsteps treading lightly as to not wake up Clarisse who by now must be sleeping. He stops, with two doors to both his left and right.

He turns to the one on the left, a wooden door painted white with a brass, gilded door handle, and opens it. He steps inside and I follow behind him, relishing the feeling of a cushioned beige carpet beneath my toes.

I enter into a well lit, airy room which has a vintage theme, pulled off in a very modern and well furnished way. The bed has a white duvet topped with a baby-blue coloured blanket folded over the end. The pillows all have lacy trims and the throw over the blanket is daisy-patterned.

The cupboard along the wall is old and wooden, but is white washed with handles matching the one on the door. My favourite bit of the room is the floor-to-ceiling bay window, which has a view of the sea and white painted shutters with a flower box, containing white daisies and blue forget me not's. An elegant, vintage lounging chair is nestled in the middle of the window area.

Aidan steps aside for me, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed casually over his chest as I take a seat on the snug bed.

"Well, this is one of our many guest rooms but it's the one more suited to girls according to Clarisse's standards. Will it be ok?"

I nod my head, still too stunned at the gorgeous room to say anything. He stands there awkwardly, tapping his fingers against his arm before walking brusquely to the windows. He closes the shutters, then makes as if he is leaving the room.

"Um, Aidan?" I murmur, not quite certain of the words I'm about to say.

He stops, his back facing me with his hand raised and about to grasp the door handle.


"Ah...thanks for everything." I whisper, looking down at my feet. I can't think how to show the gratitude, confusion and maybe even a little anger I feel towards all he's done today, words just don't seem to be able to sum it up sufficiently enough.

I open up my mouth, wanting to explain more, but no words slip past my twisted up tongue.

Aidan turns around, walking to crouch in front of my seat on the bed.
He places his hand on my own resting on my legs and that quietens my stammering. I raise my chin to have my face level with his and then I hear him speak. His timbre voice is soft, like a gentle caress as he whispers, "There's nothing to say 'thank you' for,, we look after our own."

The End

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