Bab 2: The letter
It was her usual day at the library, but Sarah had been unable to visit for the past two days due to overwhelming assignments. As she made her way to her favorite nook, a wave of relief washed over her. The familiar scent of old books and the quiet hum of whispers felt like a warm embrace.
But as she approached her usual spot, something unusual caught her eye. There, nestled between two worn novels, lay a letter—a striking black envelope tied with a glossy red satin ribbon. The contrast was bold and captivating, drawing her closer with an irresistible allure.
Curiosity piqued, she hesitated for a moment, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. The library felt unusually still, the air thick with anticipation. With trembling fingers, she picked up the letter, feeling the smooth texture of the ribbon against her skin.
"Where were you last two days....was it your plan to torment me? if you do touch your hair while reading, I shall have to come up with a fitting punishment.?"
Sarah's heart raced as she read the letter over and over. Who could have written this? The way the words flowed was both teasing and mysterious. The library, usually her safe haven, suddenly felt charged with a strange energy.
She glanced around, half-expecting to see the author of the letter lurking in the shadows between the shelves. The air was thick with anticipation, and the familiar smell of old books only heightened her senses. Should she be scared or flattered? The words hinted at someone who noticed her, who cared enough to seek her out.
As she carefully tucked the letter into her pocket, her mind raced with possibilities. Who was this "person"? What kind of punishment awaited her if she slipped and touched her hair? A small smile tugged at her lips as she imagined a dashing hero sweeping her off her feet, like the ones she read about in her favourite novels. She wanted to tease him and touch her hair, play with it for a bit. just to know if she can really trigger another reaction from this mystery man. She felt so naughty when she curled her hairs in fingers while turning page. 'I hope he looks at me right now...what would he do then?..' a thought ran across her mind. she felt odd sensation in her stomach. Trembling slightly just by thought this strange mystery man might be looking at her.
For a while, nothing happened. Her initial excitement began to fade as she lost herself in the pages of her book, the familiar world of fiction soothing her restless heart. Time slipped away, and she was cocooned in the safety of her stories.
But soon, a thirst tugged at her, pulling her from her literary escape. She made her way to the water corner, refreshing herself with a cool drink. When she returned to her spot, she opened her book, ready to dive back into her imaginary realm.
But as she turned the pages, a gasp escaped her lips. There, nestled between the lines, was a sketch—a strikingly detailed rendering of herself. The artist had captured her dark curly locks, held tightly in a strong, masculine hand adorned with tattoos. Another hand wrapped around her throat, a single finger teasingly brushing her lips.
A rush of heat flooded her cheeks, and she felt weak in her knees. The image was both alluring and unsettling. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the sketch; it seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The intensity of that strong, manly touch felt achingly real, igniting a yearning within her that was both unfamiliar and intoxicating.
She touched the sketch, brushing her fingers over the manly hand that gripped her hair. In that moment, she felt an unexpected rush—a mixture of longing and vulnerability. Her face in the drawing was depicted with a passionate, needy expression that made her feel utterly naked and exposed.
With a mix of fear and curiosity, she turned the sketch over, her breath hitching as she recognized the same elegant handwriting that had adorned the letter:
"Little dove, you disobeyed me... tormenting me is fun for you, isn't it? Just wait and watch while I agonize you. You saw the sketch...? That's what I think of you whenever you play with your hair... oh, and much more...there is not a single corner in this library I haven't thought of bending you. And having my way with you..."
A shiver ran down her spine as the words sank in. Each sentence dripped with a tantalizing promise, pulling her deeper into a web of intrigue. Who was this person, and how had they seen her so clearly? The boldness of the writing felt like a challenge, igniting something fierce within her.
Her heart raced, caught between excitement and trepidation. The library, once a quiet refuge, now felt charged with tension. She felt hot and flushed. My God, what is happening to me?
She tried to concentrate on her book, but her mind kept racing back to the letter and the sketch. The bold strokes of the drawing and the seductive words replayed in her head, igniting a fire within her. She felt restless, a tightening in her chest, as her thoughts spiraled out of control. She felt herself clenching her thighs.. 'Oh god i m turned on by this...' she felt ashamed..
Frustrated, she slammed the book shut. She couldn't stay here any longer, not when the weight of her emotions felt so overwhelming. Gathering her things, she rushed toward the exit, desperate to escape the charged atmosphere that surrounded her.
She stepped out of the library, leaning against the wall to steady herself. The heat still clung to her skin, and an unsettling feeling lingered, as if he might still be watching her. Her fingers brushed against her neck, a sudden thirst rising within her as memories of the sketch flooded back—the way the man's hair wrapped around her throat, intimate and captivating.
God, I have to go back to my dorm and relieve myself, she thought, urgency coursing through her. Without a second glance, she rushed toward the main gate, eager to escape the tension and confront the fire igniting within her.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone