I let my eyes go down to the water, and then back up to her face, so sweet, beautiful, and painfully innocent in the light.
What exactly about this woman interests me so?
***
Crystal
Why isn’t he saying anything?
Swallowing, I kept my hands on the glass of water steady, making sure to keep the slight, respectful smile on my face as I stared up at Frank King, my boss.
'Your boss, really?' That sly, devilish voice piped up again.
Who on earth thinks about his or her boss the way I think about Frank?
With each passing day, looking at him became almost… unbearable. It wasn’t because of the way he looked, for there was definitely nothing wrong with him. With his chiseled face, grey, piercing, magnetic eyes, his straight nose, a muscular body which seemed to always fit in whatever clothes he chose to wear, I was pretty sure he got much female attention, probably more than he knew what to do with.
But physical appearances were one thing. And even though I had humble beginnings, I’d seen my fair share of beautiful people. And none of them made me feel even half of what Frank did.
Then what was it about him?
Honestly, I had no idea.
I could just stand there, the same way I have in the past few days, and watch him from afar, wondering why my heart beat so fast and why I suddenly felt like an awkward duckling around him.
He was so cool, so detached. Sometimes I hid behind the door at the kitchen or maybe pretended to be cleaning someplace and just watched him, my eyes going over his features as he concentrated on his work. At first, I was curious about him. How can someone be so selfless to the point of helping my entire family? I’d been so sure that he wasn’t what he appeared to be. And so I tried to find the ulterior motive behind all these.
But I didn’t know when that innocent intention started to evolve to something else.
Soon enough, I began to notice how different his smiles were, depending on what he was doing. Whenever his lips curved to the side, I’d immediately know that he’d just closed a deal or solved some problem. But when he smiled a full smile, he was probably fully satisfied with himself over some physical feat. And he had the habit of gritting his teeth when irritated. His wardrobe was like his life – each clothing item carefully arranged by color, material, and relevance.
At this point, I felt like I’ve observed him so much that I could write a whole essay about him. And even then, these new, unsettling sentiments I was starting to have for him wouldn’t be completely expressed.
“Do you want me to bring juice instead?” I croaked out, my voice unsteady as I pointed towards the kitchen.
It had been minutes and all he’d done was to stand at the doorway staring at me with a strange, intense look in his eyes.
“Or…” I swallowed, getting quite nervous under his continued silence, “…I could just… maybe prepare some dinner real quick? Do you want me to—”
“Crystal.” He said in a deep, gruff voice, making my words hang in my throat.
I blinked, my chest tightening as my heart began to thump. Hard.
The way he’d said my name… softly, breathily and, if I was not mistakenly, with a bit of longing? The atmosphere in the room changed and it became difficult to breathe.
“Y-yes?” I stammered. My voice was so unsteady that if this had been another situation, I would have become pink from embarrassment. But right now, my thoughts were occupied by another thing – him. And the tiny, teensy possibility that maybe… just maybe… he felt the same way I did.
Why else would he look at me like that? Like the only thing, he wanted to do right now was… eat me for dinner?
With another laugh that probably came across as too awkward to be genuine, I turned around with shaky hands and put the glass of water on the table, more so that I could get a chance to look away from him and gather my bearings.
“I’ll just go to the kitchen and—”
“Crystal.” He breathed my name again. But unlike before, this time, his voice was nearer. Closer. So close I gasped and turned around, only to find out that my suspicions were correct.
He was right before me now, the previous distance between us shrunk into a few inches.
“S-sir?”
“Frank.” His deep voice grounded as he raised a hand and slowly – as if he was touching precious thousand-year-old porcelain – placed it on my face. “Call me… Frank.”
“Frank.” I exhaled, my breath shortening as I felt the warm, comforting insides of his palm on my face.
And then, in a gradual move, he lifted my face with his hand and brought his face to mine, looking straight into my eyes as his lips rested on mine.
It was feather-light. At first.
My eyes fluttered close, the point of contact tingling and sending thrills of electricity down my body. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, his lips sinking deeper into mine, and within seconds, the tempo increased.
I couldn’t breathe. Or think. Or do anything but submit myself to his ministrations. The kiss zapped the oxygen from the room and I gasped against him, desperate for more. Of him. Of this and whatever he was making me feel at this point. Then his hands were on me, embracing me, sliding up and down my body as I groaned into his mouth.
But then… in such an abrupt manner I almost tripped and fell, he took his lips off me and pushed me away like I was hot coal.
“Wh-wha—”
I didn’t even finish the sentence before he turned around and the next thing I heard was the loud, resounding bang of the front door.
Chapter Five
Frank
It had been three days. Three days since I left the house.
Now let’s rewind.
Within the thirty-eight years that I’ve been alive, there were only a handful of times when I’ve
