Devils Roses 01 - Cursed

it was education, religion, or science, was documented in art. Even the cave painting taught us something about the people of its time.
    “ Can I just slip past you there?” I knew his voice, straight away. Afraid I would be disappointed to find someone else yet again, I looked up to see his smiling face.
    I felt myself beam. “It’s you.”
    He frowned, looking incredibly disappointed. “Sorry, have we met?”
    He was exactly as I remembered, very tall, strong looking, dark-blond hair cut short and the whitest-blue eyes I had ever seen.
    “ You saved my life. I remember you. I was choking.” The words flew from my mouth as the memories flooded my brain. I looked at his sizable hands and remembered them inside my mouth. I shuddered a little at the thought. “I was on the floor turning blue and you picked the vomit out of my mouth.”
    He started to laugh, instantly I loved the sound. It was strong. “I’m sorry miss, but I think you’re mistaken. I just need a book from where you’re sitting.”
    I put a hand on the bookshelf to help myself stand. I winced as I stood up. My eyes met his chest. He was huge. “No, it’s true—I saw you.” I couldn’t stop staring up into his eyes.
    He smiled.
    I felt compelled to step closer to him and smell him. I knew he would smell familiar, like fresh ocean air but more intense, like incense. I didn’t know how I knew what he would smell like, he was supposed to be a ghost.
    “ Look, I'm really sorry, but I've never met you in my life. I think you’re confused.” He looked at me sternly, like he was trying to intimidate me into believing what my soul knew to be a lie.
    I was nervous in the smallest part of my mind that he could be the rapist still. Even if, somehow, I knew his face better than I knew my own and his lips were not thin. They were full and soft looking, my favorite kind.
    “ I’m Aimee.” I put a hand out for him to take.
    He hesitated and sighed, like he didn’t want to touch me. I wanted it so badly that when he even considered putting a hand out, I grabbed it and shook his hand. The warmth brought back the dream from the hospital. I remembered touching his hand. For me, it was as if our skin melted into each other’s for a split second. Touching him was like watching a scene from a movie, where the main characters realize they’re madly in love from the moment they meet. They stare at each other as the world spins past them. The feel of his skin excited me, it meant he was real. I wasn’t crazy or hallucinating.
    He looked like he was in pain, touching me. My heart broke watching his response. Clearly the affection was one sided. Mine was more obsession.
    “ It’s nice meeting you, uhhh—” I waited for him to answer his name.
    He sighed. “Aleksander. My name is Aleksander.”
    Mesmerized by him, I near whispered my sentence, “Aleksander, that’s a nice name.” His white-blue eyes flinched, hearing me speak his name. "So strong." I blushed, realizing I'd said it aloud.
    He fought a grin.
    "Well, it was nice meeting you." His slight accent was killing me. It was the cherry on top of the sexy sundae that was already irresistible, with his blue eyes and soft looking lips.
    "It was?" I asked and continued to stare at his beautiful clear-blue eyes. I panicked at the thought of him leaving and blurted. “Now that we have officially met, don’t you want to talk about why I was on the floor throwing up?”
    He continued to fight his smile, still looking at me intently. I had noticed the giant 'get lost' he was sending my way, but I ignored it as I continued, “I was drugged at a party. You were there. How do you know Shane?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know Shane, and I wasn’t at the party. Who drugged you?”
    I wondered if he was toying with me. “Everyone thinks YOU did,” I said boldly.
    His face dropped. “I would never do such a despicable thing. Why would you say that? Besides, if I was apparently the one picking the vomit out, why would I save you after trying to kill you?”
    Unaware that we were still holding hands, I watched him seem to struggle with something. No doubt, it was that pale-skinned skinny girl with limp, blonde hair and cracked, chapped lips wasn't an appealing look.
    I looked him deeply in the eyes, it was hypnotic. “You swear on my mom’s grave, you never drugged me?”
    He flinched. “God, you don’t kid around do you?” He looked me severely in the eyes and squeezed my hand faintly.