“Cinnamon.”, I thought, taking another whiff at the familiar smell that suddenly hung in the air. I was at the state of being partly conscious, mostly asleep but even then I could recognize the sweet aroma of cinnamon candles. Thoughts of last autumn filled my mind as precious memories surface on the inside of my closed eyelids. Sleep was beckoning me and I almost welcomed it - ALMOST. A sudden hit of bitter realization dawned on me as I remembered what had happened and the end of last autumn. The memory that I desperately hid in the back of my mind was making its way out. I forced my tired eyes open, to prove to myself that he wasn’t there, that he won’t ever be back, that I’m safe. I was wrong.
He was there. Casually leaning on my desk, where an orange cinnamon candle sat, similar to the one I had before. I should’ve known. I sat up, wide-eyed, beads of swear framing my forehead, throat dry. He smiled at me, his lips revealing perfect set of white teeth. I wanted to speak, to tell him to leave but I couldn’t help but gawk at his face. He was heavenly and I hated the fact that he still had that effect on me. The square of his jaw that led to his irritatingly perfect lips to his chiseled-like cheekbones - he looked like someone who was too good to exist. He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Not in my planet, atleast.
His amethyst eyes were set on me; piercing through my irises, into my mind, pounding at my soul. I shivered, my hand turning to ice, my muscles straining as I rolled them into fists. His eyes seemed to glow a bit, like neon signs at a late night pub or maybe I was just too mesmerized with them. Either way I was completely enchanted. The intensity of his presence emanated right off him and circled me; percolating through every layer of my skin, sending chills to my bare shoulder and melting away whatever that was left of the courage I had inside - the courage to resist him.
He crossed the distance separating us and sat by the foot of my bed; one foot bent under him, one on the floor. He had on white V neck shirt under a black trench coat that hung until his thighs that would’ve looked shabby on someone else but what intstead made him look like he came out of a catwalk. Deep indentations on his collar bone proved being physically. He was so handsome. I had to admit that - atleast to myself.
I broke his stare and acted irrate; crossing my arms, staring at a spot on my blanket. “I’m sorry”, he whispers. That deep, raspy voice waltzed into my ear, feeding thousands of memories to life. I had a mental whimper and I wanted to break down right there and then; hidden emotions fighting their way out of my eyes in form of tears. He reached out for me but I edged away. “Leave”, I said with cracked voice. Caramel tousled hair framed his eyes full of pain; pain for the guilt in his gut and pity, for the girl he aggravated.