WHIRLWINDS

I opened my eyes and blinked, though the lighting was soothing. The white ceiling was intricately modernized. Ceiling? My eyes fell on the person, who was seated on the chair, at the foot of my bed. His stormy blue eyes were fixed on me. He was leaning in front with his elbows balanced on his knees, his shoulders stiff with anxiety. His tense eyes analyzed my face carefully.

“Where I’m I?” I asked in a faint voice.

“At our place” he said warily. Our place…? I waited for him to explain, looking pointedly into his eyes.

“What?” he questioned, he cleared his throat when realization hit and said “At my place, the one you refused to come hours ago” he said his void devoid of emotion. His place! A silent gasp escaped my mouth, I was on my feet within seconds.

“How did I get here?” I asked looking at his face in suspicion, trying to keep the accusation out of my voice.

“My guards here” he said nodding at the two men standing by the door, my eyes rested on his composed face refusing to le