Sorry for a late update, emergency happened and things were out of our hands!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"I had a clear chance to shoot your father's murderer, seconds before he shot."

His voice came, composed, deep, and yet, completely hesitant, snapping my attention towards him.

My expression remained empty, as I slightly arced my head in his direction, wordlessly.

"The load of my gun was full," He muttered, "I was not the target of the shooter, and I was free to move without a single wound."

I gazed into him. Into those composed orbs reflecting a mixture of semi-emotions I couldn't grasp. And yet, his orbs were a lot calmer now.

I recalled his look when he shot my father's shooter.

I shuddered.

He had looked pure inhumane.

And yet, I knew it was his reaction to my state.

It was the beast of his father awakened within him because of the shooter's aiming at... me.

His jaw moved, and he intensified his look slightly.

"And yet, at that particular moment, my mind could not collect its thoughts together as to give a command to aim and shoot." He admitted, his voice as cold and yet... explanatory somehow, "A single thought took over my entire calculations, to be frank."

I kept on looking in his direction, as I couldn't even muster an interested gaze.

"And that was you bleeding any further because of another shot."

I shuddered, and a breath escaped me, yet I couldn't form an expression.

"Y-You..." I barely murmured, my lips dry.

He didn't mind me, as he reached for his wristwatch over his right hand. "The thought was... blinding. It was pure insanity, and yet it managed to shake my decisions." He muttered, fatally and dangerously.

"As he prepared to shoot, I..." He paused, but then clenched his jaw and continued, "I was blinded by the idea of moving you away. Preventing any other wound infliction upon you."

Another breath escaped me, and my voice came, emotionless, "That's rather surprising, considering you always do a cost-benefit analysis."

He gave me a look. One signaling I should have understood exactly what he was pointing at.

"I thought we had an agreement." He turned away, "Your safety certainly came first according to that."

My shoulder ached, and my heart did too, as I eyed the grave before me.

"But the agreement included my father as well." I mumbled, my lips dry, my voice cold.

He shifted, coolly, keeping his beauteous gaze at the cemetery. "I must say, I had not expected of him to take such a step." He murmured, "So when he actually did, it took me by rather an almost stun."

I swallowed, "I hadn't expected that of him, either." My voice came, low, raising my right hand before me, as I eyed it, recalling his blood soaking my body, "I recall how his silhouette jumped before me seconds before..." My voice disappeared before I could continue, and yet no tears came down and no expression appeared, as my heart tugged, hard.

Three shots echoed at the back of my head, and I shuddered glancing at Scarlett, who now sat in silence, not even sparing us a glance. "I recall his body shuddering thrice with every shot, blood splattering back against my face from the intensity of the shots..." I murmured, my voice empty, as I felt darkness invade me.

I shook my head at the grave, my heart sinking into deep darkness as I couldn't form an expression.

"Those final words he said... His sobs, and—" I was cut off, as a large hand came over my uninjured shoulder, and whipped me in his direction, roughly.

He shook me, as his face neared mine, and his eyes invaded mine.

Like spears of blue jade, they glowed in mesmerizing intensity.

"Stop." He hissed, his voice deep and hard. "Stop with all those pretentious claims and words! Seize this silly act of passiveness! You don't," His jaw clenched, "Have to pretend before me, Thorne."

I parted my lips, but no words came out. Not an expression crossed my face.

It wasn't exactly a choice of mine. My heart was aching, my body ached, and yet I couldn't express. It was as though my feelings were switched off, rendering me unable to express any sense I was getting.

I fixed my orbs back into his, and kept my shallow look, "It's weird." I mumbled, "It's weird I feel so... numb."

His ocean beads thundered, as he observed me with an intensity of a scientist observing an odd phenomenon. It was like he was attempting to break all this coldness radiating off of me. As though he were trying to triumph over it.

I continued, "My... My heart is clenching so hard. It might break." I spat, defeated, yet my voice seemed cold, "And yet, I... I cannot muster a single reaction."

I shrugged, feeling my heart sinking in further darkness, as the loud recap of shots echoed again through my senses.

"Well, maybe because I caused this." I spoke, dryly, void of any emotion, "My dad was killed because of me—"

My words were cut off, as full, warm, and gentle lips came over mine, sealing my words in gentleness yet persistence.

I shuddered, and my eyes widened, as a soft gasp escaped me.

Somehow, I might say, it was the closest to expression face I'd made since my dad had left.

I didn't react, I didn't even move, and yet, my lips started tingling with a painful, burning sensation, as my heart clenched.

My heart shook, it felt like some tree being pulled from the roots. Too weak. Resisting what was trying to crush it and yet failing miserably. It was being torn apart.

The president didn't pull away, he didn't back off with realization I wasn't responding. He didn't give up on this vacant woman in trauma.

On the contrary, he moved his lips, pushing against mine further, deeper against my soul. It was as though he were reaching for the Charlotte hidden behind the glass barrier.

The weak, scared Charlotte too afraid to feel anything again. Terrified of facing the bitterness and reality of loss. Searching for security somewhere between the lines of my happy memories with my dad.

The lips against mine became even warmer, as his orbs became even more intense with the shimmering blue crystals within them. They crashed more and more into my soul. Within every peck, every warmth that spread through the peck, every heat which radiated off of that body of his.

Now that was the thing about this man.

At first, back to the time we first knew one another, he wouldn't look twice if he found me lying dead on a street.

Things, though, changed now.

And I had noticed that through the recent occurrences with my dad.

He would see through me every time. When I tried to hide what was hindering me when I missed my dad, when I tried to head to Tottenham alone, when I tried to take the gangsters back then on my own, when I pretended to be okay with heading home instead of his estate, when I tried to hide the pain my father's deeds were causing me.

He saw through them all.

He penetrated them all, one by one.

We had reached a stage where it was no use to hide from him.

Because he would keep on pushing, pushing, pushing—

His lips kept on mine, ravishing mine. And my entire body shook, as... my... eyes started... watering?

"Mi dispiace, Charlotte."

**Mi dispiace: I'm sorry**

—Until my walls just come down.

A tear strolled down my right cheek.

Another on my left.

My eyes remained wide, as more tears strolled down, one after the other.

And I sobbed, beneath his lips.

But how.... Just... How... How could you trigger my tear glands after I felt completely empty...

After I thought I had become completely vacant...

After the little Charlotte had feared to come out all along...

Good God, why am I crying...?

I sobbed, again, and again.

And his left hand came up, as his fingers ran through my short hair strands, deliberately yet gently, as though he were careful not to break me.

And he kept on kissing.

He knew it wasn't about his kiss. He knew it wasn't bothering me.

Rather, he knew it had unlocked the seal which had had me captive ever since I was traumatized two days ago.

It wasn't the materialistic power of the kiss. It was his insistence. The way he kept on pushing and pushing, as though he were knocking on the gates of my broken soul.

I sobbed again, as I tried moving my lips against his to warm my soul up.

I moved my uninjured hand up, towards his shoulder, and clutched the material of his suit jacket with my full stamina.

"M-Mr. Ellington..." I choked, painfully, pleading, "My chest... hurts..." I sobbed.

He stopped kissing, but simply kept on roaming his mouth over mine, soothingly.

"Io so." His voice came, deep, cold, and yet, it warmed my insides. "I know." He translated.

I kept on crying, as weak as imaginable.

"I...I still feel his blood s-soaking my body..." I sniffed, "I can still hear his voice in my ears... Th-The gunshots... They... They just won't stop echoing and echoing and... I didn't even say goodbye..." I sobbed, my entire body shaking, "I didn't kiss him or sniff his smell..." I mumbled in defeat, "I didn't say goodbye...!!!" I repeated the statement which broke me the most. "I-I only said m-mean things to him be-because I was hurt of what he did to me...!!" I tried to explain, "B-But I didn't mean any of it... I'm so sorry..."

His left hand came down, as he pulled me towards him further, and either his hands came over my back, keeping me as close as possible.

He was hugging me like there was no tomorrow.

Like we were not employer and employee.

Like business was not the only thing that connected us.

Like he were not the almighty, dead cold Rickard Ellington Conway and I the average woman Charlotte Thorne.

He was embracing me as though he were attempting to protect me from this wicked world. Like I were some precious, delicate, antique and he feared I might just break.

He didn't utter a word, but simply kept holding me as warmly and safely as possible.

And truth, that's all I wanted.

I only sobbed further against his chest, clutching my hand over his shoulder more to hold on.

"I really d-did my best in this battle..." I sniffed, protesting, "I shot th-three people...! I ran under gunfire!! I neglected all physical pain and kept on going..." I spat in remorse, "And yet I couldn't protect that one person whom I wanted safe... On the contrary, he was killed because of me!!" I slammed my fist weakly against his chest, sobbing harder, "I didn't hug him one last time..." I bawled.

"Shh." He shushed me, his voice deep, his fingers moving against my back, sending tingles over my body and shivers. "Your father chose that, do not blame yourself, he chose his fate."

I shook my head, "He didn't!!" I sniffed, my breathing going unsteady, "A-All what happened was because I was targeted! Because the point of all of this was to get rid of me!!" I banged weakly against his chest, recalling who the antagonist was.

My chest constricted. 

"My dad..." My voice became even more desperate, "Was tricked... He tried t-to make up for his mistakes by protecting me..." I cried, "B-But the fault was not his... It..." I paused, afraid to continue. Afraid to let out the name and see what consequences it would throw at our relationship.

Afraid of my own reAction towards him when I admit it.

His hand stopped moving over my back, as he straightened from me, looking away.

Gazing at his expression, I was stunned to see it held all darkness and... distance? —possible.

He looked too distant. Too far. And, for a second, he looked he was losing something.

But no, Rickard Ellington Conway never lost. Never.

"It was my father." He continued my statement, his voice dark and deadly. "Don't hide you know it."

A surprised breath escaped me, as I eyed him with wide, tearful eyes. "H-Huh?"

Scarlett stood up at that, as she turned around, wordlessly, and she started heading away.

Rickard Ellington Conway shot her a look, "She told me."

I licked my lips, and an exasperated breath escaped me, as more tears came down my cheeks, while shaking my head. I turned again towards him.

"I...I didn't know if I could say it... But it kept on repeating itself over... and over in my mind." I sniffed, "I know... I know you're not like him," I fixed my eyes into his, "But every time I look into your... your eyes..." I sobbed, and shut my eyes, turning away.

"I only hear my father's hitching breath when he said his name."

My breathing remained uneven, as I sniffed helplessly.

"How can I g-get over this?!" I ran my right hand through my hair, "The pain in my chest is like fire... The pain and guilt that I couldn't protect my dad is eating me alive!!" I clenched my teeth, "Devouring every sense within me and rendering me so desperate! What to do now?! Where to go?" I pleaded.

He remained silent, as his hands left me, and yet he let me speak. Venting out all I had.

"How... How can I face my mom... and Theodore..!" I breathed, "I...I'm not strong enough for that...! I'm not strong enough to give them strength...!" My voice came, pleading, "I... No matter how much I try to deny it or overcome it... I'm so weak...!"

I wet my lips again, and he remained in his place. I let out a sigh, and words just kept escaping. "And... And what about us?! I... I need a break," I pleaded, "A break to think... to collect myself back together..." I kept my fingers running through my hair, "Oh, God..."

He didn't even budge. Looking towards him, my heart almost shattered in pieces.

His jaw was moving, and his eyes were diverted from me.

His expression was dark, true, and yet, it more radiated something like... defeat?!

Defeat by what?! Who?!

It then occurred to me. He could see I was broken by what happened. And probably blamed me being a target to his feud with his father.

It was clearly displayed over his beauteous, harsh features.

His jaw kept on moving, as a thousand thoughts crossed through his wild eyes like shooting stars.

It was only after a minute or so that he looked up, into my eyes.

He kept on his haughty, cold expression, and yet his orbs glowed with millions of unspoken words.

After a long moment of intense exchange of gazes, his eyes roamed over my broken state for a quick second, and then went back to clash against mine again.

He parted his lips.

"You're free to leave, Thorne."

I let out a desperate sob.

It was exactly what I needed.

A break. To sort out my thoughts.

I just requested that.

And yet, my heart hurt, so much.

I kept shaking my head in helplessness.

"I don't... want to leave." I hiccuped, "I... I need a break, but... I... I don't want us to be strangers... Again..." I averted my gaze from his, feeling like I've started to lose control over my words.

Oh lord, what was I saying?!

A finger landed under my chin, and averted my gaze back, up, towards him.

His orbs buried into mine with a weird, flaming intensity.

They glowed, for a second, with pure, superior determination and power.

"Six months."

His words came, low, composed, and yet they had mad potency burning within them.

So much compressed power and puissance in one statement.

"I'm planning a backlash of vengeance against my father in six months from now." He spoke, his tone making me shiver, "I will inform you of details when that time comes."

I blinked, tears still hanging in my eyes. "H-Huh?"

He kept his orbs clashing against mine.

"You have six months to collect yourself back together, Thorne." He neared his face, to mine, his breath fanning my lips, "And then you can join me again."

I let out a shaking breath, "I... I can?"

My voice came in a whisper, low, unsure, and yet a mixture of plead and hopefulness.

He didn't even blink, as his jaw tightened, and his beauteous beads reflected a raging sea magically calming down upon my question.

"Don't dare you come back except with further determination and strength against my father." He pressed his lips against mine, and I felt warmth enter to tickle my heart, "Cry as much as you wish now, however..."

The closeness of our faces was beyond imagination, and out eyes clashed.

I could see the whole universe within the layers of his deep irises, as they raged like a sea in a storm.

"Once the tears seize, get up and rage. Rage against the murderers of your father. Rage against Trevor Ellington Conway. Show him my secretary can breathe fire, and burn him into ashes."

Tears cascaded down further, and my heart raced in my chest.

"You won't be alone in that, I give you my word." His voice came to entice my insides, as my right hand moved up, and encircled around his neck, as I held onto him with all my might.

Good God... Why... Why do I feel this weird attachment to him...?

Why does he feel like my peace?!

I let out a shaky breath.

"I promise you..." I clenched my teeth, swallowing my tears back. "I will come back in six months."

"And it will be a stronger Charlotte Thorne, one that breathes fire and seeks her father's justice."

I hugged him tighter, and bit my lips, hard, ad tears cascaded down again despite my hard expression. "No matter... how hard that seems now... I promise th-that!" I tried to suppress my sobs as my father's smiling face flashed again once I began feeling warm again.

My head came over his shoulder, and I buried it there.

Against his neck.

I sniffed his smell, making it drug me. Intoxicate me.

And I cried.

Honestly, I needed to.

My father's dying image was still brand fresh.

And he died over my shoulder.

I was not ready to accept that any time soon.

"I-Is it okay to ruin your suit jacket with my tears?!" I kept my grip over his neck, "B-Because I really feel like... crying." I cried in a low, tired voice.

A long moment of silence came, and my sobs were the only audible sound in the graveyard.

I kept on sniffing tiredly, as a strong, large, and warm pair of hands came around my back, pulling me closer in security.

"I'll find you a way to make up for that later, but for now," He muttered, throatily.

"Cry all you want, I shall not judge."

And that was all I needed to hear.

I cried, and cried. Over and over again. Against his shoulder.

Before the grave of Ben Oliver Thorne.

.

.

.

Hours later, he drove me back to the hospital.

He checked me in, and we headed to my room.

As the door before us opened, the nurse lead me towards it, but I noticed he was not moving to follow.

Ah. So it's my break from here on.

He maintained a composed, dark gaze, and yet, it was not focused at me.

It was focused on everything but me.

He started turning away.

"Until we meet again, Signorina." He spoke, composedly, and I felt my heart clench.

Wait, don't leave yet.

Assure me.

Make me feel secure.

I'm not ready