The Recording

“Let’s go.” I ushered Mom and Dad to the car while following behind Lucas who had become extremely silent with a miserable expression casted over his face. I glared at him. Why is he the one looking like that when I’m the one who’s traumatized?

The more I look at him, the more I get the feeling he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on me and is wickedly using it to his advantage.

This isn’t the first time he’s look at me as deadly as he did back there and it probably wouldn’t even be the last. As soon as my senses detects the side of him that I don’t want to see, every defense I’ve built all these years just jumps inside a box, meanwhile, my body begins to bend to his will all on its own.

Right now, that’s exactly what’s happening and I hate it, I despise it.

Lucas opened the door for me and stepped to the side gesturing for me to get in. I didn’t object and simply climbed in. When he went to close the door, I stretched out my palm expectantly. I didn’t look him in the eye, bu