I hummed as I cooked dinner, swaying my hips with excitement like a restless monkey. My mouthwatering steak was almost ready, and I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into it. I lowered the heat and set my plate, trying to patiently await Mr. Clinton’s return.
Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. “Your food smells delicious,” Erin said, her bright smile and wide eyes gleaming with youthfulness. I turned to face her, feeling a warmth in my chest. “Thanks, want some?” I asked, but she declined, saying she was done for the day and headed out.
After dinner, I settled onto the couch with my textbook, waiting for Mr. Clinton to return. But as the hours ticked by, I grew restless, my eyes drifting to my phone. Should I call him? I decided against it, feeling a bit annoyed, and headed to bed instead.
As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. I shrank under the duvet, clinging to it tightly. But when I opened my eyes, the room was plunged into darkness. I shot up in bed, my heart racing, and flung off the covers.
“What happened to the lights?” I asked aloud, knowing I wouldn’t get an answer. I groped in the darkness, searching for my phone, but it seemed to have vanished. I crouched down, my hands sweeping the floor, my ear inches from the ground. “Where did I put it?” I muttered, my frustration building up
Just as I was starting to feel desperate, the lights flickered back on. I blinked in relief, my eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. There, on my bedside table, was my phone, exactly where I had left it. I let out a sigh of relief, feeling a bit silly for my earlier panic.
I picked up my phone to check the time; it was 2 am in the morning, so what made the lights go out? I sauntered down the stairs, my eyes lingering at the spacious living room, then my eyes fell on the door, widely opened.
Is there a burglar in the house? Panic struck me, my heart pounding in my chest as I dashed to the kitchen to find any tool I could use for my defense. I grabbed a big wooden spoon and tiptoed towards the door. My heart beat rapidly as my eyes darted around the whole place.
A faint sound of footsteps approaching caused me to halt in fright; my gaze was fixed on the door without wavering for a second, clenching onto the wooden spoon, a faux weapon that could save me from losing a few bucks, credit cards I had in my purse, and of course, the expensive furniture in the duplex belonging to Mr. Clinton.
My eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow coming towards me, my defensive instincts kicked in, empowering me to run with the speed I could muster. Without observing the man’s face, I raised the wooden spoon above my head, ready to slam it down at him.
“SARAH!” A voice I recognized yelled my name, my eyes widened at the person I mistook to be a burglar. With my momentum leading me to the verge of bumping into him, I abruptly halted, but it didn’t go well for me. My feet slid on the sleek marble tiles, causing me to slip and fall to the ground.
I winced and sat on the floor, stroking my waist. ‘What the heck is wrong with me?’ I berated myself inwardly, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Clinton. I totally forgot I wasn’t the only one living in this huge house.
“Are you alright?” His voice sounded concerned as he crouched beside me. I felt a cold liquid cascading on me, seeping chills into my whole body. I was too afraid to look up; of course, I knew how my body would react when I see his face.
“Let me help you.” His cold fingers brushed my arm before clutching onto them. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said, still holding my arm; my heart began taunting me again.
I stayed silent, unable to control the bubbling feeling surfacing in me.
“Sarah, are you okay?” I involuntarily lifted my face, and our eyes locked. I blinked, then my gaze shifted to his sopping body, and a small part of his chest was exposed from his incomplete fastened shirt.
‘Oh heavens, why do you keep teasing me?’ I bit my lips to keep my mind calm.
“Sarah…” He called me again when he noticed my unresponsiveness. “Yes, Mr. Clinton…” I managed to respond, barely looking at his face.
He stood up, tucking the strands of his damp hair. “Did you think I was a burglar?” A small smile played on his cheek as he spoke.
Yeah, he was darn lucky I didn’t break his head.
I stood up; a sharp pain struck my butt, my hands inched to clutch onto it, but it would be too awkward to touch it in front of him, or he might think I’m a baby dancing around with a dripping diaper.
“What is it?” He asked as he noticed I was struggling to stand firmly. “I’m totally not fine, and why are you all wet.”
He looked down at his clothes, his dripping stubble fell across his face.
“I went outside to fix the tripped circuit, but the rain blasted in a heavy downpour. Unlucky me…”
“Ooh…” My lips pursed, realizing the reason for the short moment of darkness. “So you went to fix it… Mr. Clinton, you might catch a cold; go take a warm bath,” I told him while my eyes traveled all around his body. My eyes landed on his pelvic region.
‘Oh man, he better get out of here now, cause I don’t know what might happen.’
I could see the outline of his… Oh no, I’m losing it! Sarah, look away, look away! I screamed in my head, but no matter how hard I tried to be decent for once, I still couldn’t look away.
“Mr. Clinton, go to your room,” I gently nudged him out of the living room, my heart racing. I swear if I looked at that for ten more seconds, I might lose my sense. When he got to the stairs, I ran past him and went straight to my room to calm the heightened tension swirling in me.
‘That was close; oh god, this is torture…’
I slid onto the door, face palming myself. I was getting crazier by the day; how long can I wait to build a solid relationship with him?
“Ugh!!!” I groaned in frustration, kicking my feet off the ground and collapsing on the bed…