Thread: Wicked Game [Sebastian&SHARPii]

Lila hardly made any motion that she would listen to staying put. She did of course, because she wasn't stupid. He was armed and clearly seemed to have a temper--then again what burglar wouldn't?--and if she prided herself in anything it was her common sense. Common sense said to meet his demands and do as he said. Even if it was so tempting to maybe make a run for the door, she knew better. At the age of twenty-two going onto twenty-three, being incredibly young still, it didn't sit well with her to die so young and she was a thin young woman. She'd probably bleed right out and so immediately. It was not an experiment she was willing to toy with. All tiredness that had overwhelmed her of her entire day disappeared immediately. She never felt so awake like she did right then and there. He came back. She swallowed hard, feeling her nails really dig into the back of her hands even more, as if almost capable of drawing blood. Perhaps she was too conscious about that and suddenly loosened her grip. His eyes on her, studying her, was rather disconcerting. She didn't like the feeling it produced inside of her but nonetheless, she said not a word. Her eyes widened big enough at his new demands. It made her feel incredibly uncomfortable and very tempted to shake her head no, she still unable to find her voice. It was like he silenced her through fear. A knife to the throat would do that. Slowly but surely, her hands managed to break from their bond. Her right hand came to up to grasp her glasses from the side, taking them off and placing them on the table. That same right hand came up to pull the hair tie out of her hair, releasing and freeing her golden blonde locks, letting it cascade freely around her thin frame, the length of her hair curling over her breasts. That was the front length of it anyways. The back length was long, reaching almost down to the middle of her back, right before it would reach to the small of it. Lila was fond of layers. She gulped slightly audibly, barely able to gauge any feeling almost in her legs. What he was asking was shocking, insulting even but she'd have to be a damn fool to not comply. He was still holding that knife. As long as he was, it made sense to simply humor him, even if it was embarrassing for her. Without her glasses, Lila wasn't blind. She never was to begin with, just being incredibly near-sighted. It was one thing to be able to see people from afar but she could hardly make out text if it was more than twelve feet away from her. From where she was now standing at the table, she saw the labels of her teas on the counter in the kitchen she couldn't read what they say, even if she knew what they said already. That was the depravity of her vision, otherwise it was relatively good. She could still see him, that's for sure. Looking down at herself, she bit her lower lip. The clothes were pretty snug as it is. It was clear she was no longer wearing a bra as her orange tank top was pretty conforming to her body, but the boxers were not. Stepping away from the chair, she did her best to pull her boxers tight before slowly turning, making sure to stick with the slowly and not mess it up to give that knife a new resting place somewhere painfully on her body. When she finished the turn and was once again facing him, her hands let go of her boxers and they clasped together tightly in front of her, her stance a little bit weak since she was scared out of her mind. Looking down, she fumbled with her hands, biting her lower lip hard before looking up at him again. Um...my name is Delilah Hart. I uh...don't have a boyfriend or anyone of that sort, but thank you for the cheap reminder. Her voice was laced with a bit of resentment, however that was just from her sheer annoyance, as her own mother constantly prodded her for not having a boyfriend, given she was almost twenty-three. For the longest time since she'd been working for Afton since she graduated from college, her mother thought she and him were involved. There's no telling how many times Lila had to tell the woman that nothing was going on between them. It was both embarrassing and frustrating, but her current situation seemed to take the cake. What was he trying to do? Degrade her until she was nothing but a bit of a shell of her former existence? Well hew as doing a great job because she felt inadequate. She was twenty-two, single and worked a hectic 6 AM-6PM job--usually. Sighing heavily, she bit her lower lip again before looking at him with as bold of a stare as she could in her current fear before speaking, Twenty-two. It was obvious, the effect his stance and mere presence alone that he had on her. She was terrified out of her mind but was trying for the courageous approach though she even she knew that was dwindling. Outside of the office, she was a bit of an introvert, sticking to herself usually and not doing well in a social atmosphere unless her job required her to.