Chapter 4: On The Way To His Place

(From Blue's Perspective)

"Bride?" I murmured, my breath catching in my throat and causing awful anguish. "Stop playing with me!"

"You think I'm playing?" he asked.

"You are. I don't trust you."

"I can't make you trust me right away. But you'll very soon," he said, his voice calm but confident.

"I don't want to come with you," I said, looking pleadingly at him.

"Don't make me force you, Blue," he sighed.

I peered around at the dark surroundings, the sound of the wind mixing with my heart's hammering and his hushed breathing. I had no idea what to do or who to trust. But there was something about him that made me think I could try to trust him.

"Just give me a chance. You won't regret trusting me," he said gently.

I locked my gaze on him, intently studying him. I nodded after a while. Even I was perplexed as to why I had accepted so soon.

"Let's go then," he said and offered me his hand. I studied his hand for a moment before slipping my small hand in his large, firm one. His hand was warm, like the warmth of a candlelit from a distance. It took a few moments for my skin to acclimatize to this new sensation.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"To my place."

"Your place? Don't mind my harsh talking, but anyway, you have a lot of money that you... ok, so where do you live? You said we have to walk ten minutes inside the forest. But I mean, as you have a lot of money, you can live in a big town in a very comfortable mansion or something like that. You don't have to live in a forest cabin, I guess. Is it a personal preference or something?"

"Who said I live in a forest cabin?" he asked in a way as if he was amused by my confused state.

"You live in a forest. So that must be..."

"I don't live in a forest, sweet Blue. You'll see in a while. My place is enough for us," he said smiling.

"Then where?"

"You'll see. Come on now."

He suddenly took off the long coat he was wearing. It was black and seemed to be made of luxurious fabric. When I saw him before, he was not wearing that coat. Perhaps he had taken that off when he came here, and then he put it on again.

He wrapped the coat around me before I could grasp what was going on. As I was wearing a short-sleeved long shirt with my shorts, his knuckles brushed over the exposed skin of my upper arm. When my skin came into contact with his, goosebumps appeared all over my body.

"What... what are you..."

"It's raining. You'll catch a cold," he said normally as if it was nothing but common sense. Perhaps it was, but this act of common sense stood out to me. No one had ever given a damn if I was dying, let alone a simple cold.

"Don't you need it?" I asked.

"No. I don't catch a cold," he replied.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"Don't thank me for this little thing, my bride. Or you'll get sick thanking me,"1 he said, smiling at me. His smile was not overly broad, but rather a small curl of his brownish pink lips, frigid but full of unspoken feelings.

He led me deep into the forest, his coat blocking raindrops from falling on my skin. But my face and hair were damp. He had my hand in his, and for some reason, this gave me butterflies in my stomach.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked.

"Marrying me? Why do you want to marry me?" I asked.

To my surprise, he chuckled. "Because I want to."

"But why? You're good-looking. You can have any girl. I don't think a girl with a bruised body will be a good match for you," I muttered.

"Hey, look at me," he said, and I obliged. "Since the moment I laid my eyes on you, I wanted you."

"When did you see me first?" I asked in a shaky tone.

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"A long time ago."

"When?"

He did not answer me, but kept walking, not so fast as if he was walking like that for me. It felt weird to walk holding hands with a stranger, who also turned out to be too handsome to handle.

My nostrils were flooded with the scent of fresh raindrops on the ground. But it was not the smell that made me dizzy. A hallucinogenic deep masculine smell had been emitting from him, making me want to sniff him pressing my nose on his skin.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Call me Demetrius," he replied.

It seemed like an ancient name, but very handsome. I liked it, but also wondered what it would feel like to say his name. Would it vibrate in my mouth? Would I be able to say it properly or mess up in the middle because of overthinking?

I wanted to ask him a lot of things, but I was not sure if I should. What if he got annoyed and decided to punish me or something like that? I did not want to be struck again.

"You can ask me anything you want, Blue. There's no need to be afraid of me. I'm your soon-to-be husband. There's no need to fear me. At least, not you," he said as if he could read my mind. I wanted to ask what he meant by 'at least not you'. Did others fear him a lot? It was true that he was cold-looking like if anyone stared at him for a long time, they would freeze to death. But the way he spoke to me, his appearance seemed to be the polar opposite of his words.

"Ask me," he urged gently again.

"Do you live alone?"

"No. My family lives with me and there are servants as well."

I could not understand if whatever he was saying was true. It would take a huge place for that many people to stay. Where did he actually live?

"Here," he said.

I noticed that we had arrived at what appeared to be a very dark place filled with trees and shadows and the sound of small animals running over small branches making snapping noises.

"You live here?" I asked.

"You'll see, my bride," he said with a smile.

I blushed suddenly at his word. He was being way too gentle with me and even calling me his bride even though we met a few minutes ago. No, I met him a few minutes ago. But he did not. He said he had seen me a long time ago.

Was he stalking me? But how was that possible? He was probably twenty-four or twenty-five, not more than that.

"Um... can I ask you something?" I hesitated.

"Yes, my bride."

I gasped once more at this word, but quickly straightened myself out before making a fool of myself. "How old are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know... perhaps twenty-five..."

"Close. I'm twenty-four," he replied.

So he was seven years older than me. Perhaps a little less than seven years, as I was just two days away from turning eighteen. The age difference was neither too great nor too little.

"Is it unsettling?"

"What?"

"The age gap?"

"No. I... I just..."

"It's okay. I'm not too old I guess," he remarked, and I couldn't help but smile. His mouth also curled into a smile. His lips curved into a smile as well. It was perfect; the way his lips curved, his dimple appeared on his left cheek, his eyes softened. Everything seemed to be making me feel different.

There was a Coast Douglas-fir in front of us. Both in width and height, the tree was enormous.

"Coast Douglas-fir," I murmured.

"Yes. How do you know it?" he asked. I was surprised. I said it so quietly, almost not making a sound. But he still heard me. How?

"I read about it. It is also known as Douglas spruce, Oregon pine, and Pacific Douglas-fir. It is a species of evergreen conifer native to western North America, ranging from west-central British Columbia in Canada to central California in the United States. Its range in Oregon and Washington extends from the Cascades crest west to the Pacific Coast Ranges and the Pacific Ocean. It can be found in the Klamath and California Coast Ranges as far south as the Santa Lucia Mountains, with a small stand in the Purisima Hills, Santa Barbara County. It can be found as far south as Yosemite in the Sierra Nevada. It ranges in elevation from near sea level along the coast to 1,800 meters in the California Mountains. 1"And...," I explained. "Oh, I'm sorry. I actually could not... stop myself. I have this bad habit of talking about something I know. I'm sorry."

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