LUCIEN

 

I LEAVE ADELINE'S room and go straight to my shower --- my sanctuary.

Panicked breaths spill out from my lungs as I crank on the hot water and strip out of my clothes.  I throw them in a pile on the floor, which causes me even more anxiety, but I'm in a fucking hurry to get under the soothing spray of water.

I step into the glass enclosure and close the door, sighing in relief when the burning hot water envelops me from the large showerhead above.  With frantic hands, I grab one of the antibacterial bars of soap from the built-in shelf and scrub at my hand, the place where Adeline had touched me.

Growling in anger, I scrub until my hand is red and raw.  I'm not angry at Adeline, however.  She has no idea of how deep-rooted my phobias are.  I'm angry at myself for being this way and not being fucking normal.

I felt like we were finally making progress tonight, and then I went and fucked it all up.

A feral scream tears from my throat as the scalding water cascades down my body, turning my skin into a bright, cherry red.  Mumbling to myself and counting the tiles on the wall beside me, I scrub and scrub until I can no longer stand it, my skin too raw and sore to endure even my own touch.

Cranking off the faucet, I put my palms against the tiled wall and take deep breaths in and out.  I should feel better by now, but I don't.  I think I feel even worse than before.

A simple touch from the girl I'm infatuated with sent me off the fucking deep end.  I've never been able to stand being touched since I was a kid and all the bad things happened to me.  My brain associates touch and love with pain and torment, and rightly so given my fucked-up childhood.

I had a lot of people hurt me in my past.  I'm mentally and physically fucking scarred, and there is nothing in the world that can ever erase the suffering I endured as a scared, little boy.

The last thing I wanted was for Adeline to see me like this.  More than anything, I'm embarrassed that she witnessed me in that fucked-up mental state once again.

After my breathing calms down and my heart stops threatening to beat out of my chest, I climb out of the shower and dry off.  Then I grab the clothes from the floor and neatly fold them before placing them in the empty dirty clothes bin.

I hang up my towel on a drying rack before going to my closet for something to wear.  I pull a simple, dark Henley shirt over my head and then slip into a pair of black boxer briefs and black lounge pants.

I hardly ever dress so casual, but I'm not feeling like my usual fucked-up self at the moment.  I suffered a major panic attack, and thinking about facing Adeline again makes me sick to my stomach.

Retreating into the bathroom once more, I go through my regular after-shower routine of brushing my teeth and rinsing with mouthwash, putting on two different kinds of deodorant under my arms, styling my hair until every single hair is in its perfect place and then washing my hands seven times with antibacterial soap.

As I'm drying my hands, I stare at my reflection in the large mirror.  A grimace appears on my face, and I shake my head.  I'm fucking disgusted with myself and the way I acted.

It's not like it's the first time someone has touched me when I didn't want them to, but I sure as hell never lost my shit like I did tonight.

Why did her touch bother me so much even though I've been foolishly yearning for it since she arrived on the island?  Why is everything so different with her?

Am I secretly hoping that there could be something more between us than just what I purchased from her?

No.

I shoot that idea down right away.  I'm incapable of having more of a relationship with her…or anyone, for that matter.  No.  Adeline simply caught me off guard.  I have to convince myself that that's all there is to it.  Nothing more.

 

* * * * * * *

 

LATER THAT NIGHT, when I know she's in bed, I sneak into Adeline's room and watch her sleep.

She looks like an angel lying there surrounded by the white sheets, her thick, dark lashes dusting her delicate cheekbones and her long hair draped over the pillows.  Her chest gently rises and falls, and the rhythmic sound of her deep, even breaths somehow soothes my dark soul.

She's so fucking beautiful that it hurts to look at her, like staring into the sun.

I move closer to the bed just as her delicate brows furrow and her breathing picks up.

And then I hear my name on her lips.

"Lucien," she whispers before a sharp gasp.

For a moment I think she's awake and saw me watching her sleep, but her eyes remain closed.  She's having a dream…or perhaps a nightmare.

My hand automatically reaches for her, but I stop short of touching her.  Instead, I hush her and tell her that everything's going to be okay.

Eventually, Adeline's features smooth out, and she relaxes once more into a deep sleep.  She doesn't utter my name again, and I'm glad for that.

Taking one last lingering gaze at the sleeping beauty, I quietly leave her room.

Even though Adeline may look like she just stepped out of a fairytale, I can't let myself believe that I'm her Prince Charming.

I'm nothing more than the dark villain in her story.

And my black soul can never be redeemed.