NEW GARDENER

MORGANA’S POV

“Look at me.” He demands. I don’t hesitate to raise my head. I hate looking up at him like this because he’s too tall and it hurts my neck. His eyes are a bottomless dark sea. I don’t think anyone on this earth has eyes as dark as his.

He’s too close to me. I don’t like it.

I mentally scold myself for not noticing he was in the room. That just proves how easy it is for him to sneak up on me. I wonder how long he has been in here, watching me like some sick psychopath.

His hand grazes my cheek sending unpleasant shivers down my back. He moves his hands from my cheek to my arm, leaving trails of his touch as he glides his fingers further down.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice coming out weak and frail. My question makes him abruptly stop his movement. Like he was under some sort of hypnosis and I just snapped him back into reality. I move slightly backwards away from him.

The emotion i