The Weight of His Presence
I turned around to see who it was, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Sebastian standing there, his dark, piercing eyes locked onto mine. His presence filled the room effortlessly, making it feel smaller and more suffocating. I couldn’t meet his gaze for long, not after what had happened earlier in my room. My cheeks burned at the memory, and I quickly turned back to the sink, pretending to focus on the dishes.
But before I could fully regain my composure, I felt a firm grip on my forearms. His touch was strong yet controlled, his long fingers wrapping around me with a possessive hold. He stopped me in my tracks, leaving no room for escape.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deep and husky, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
I shook my head quickly, refusing to meet his gaze. The thought of facing him, of confronting the intensity in his eyes, was too much to bear.
“Look at me,” he said again, this time with a hint of impatience.
Before I could protest further, he tilted my chin upward with his forefinger and thumb, forcing me to look directly at him. His grip was firm, but not painful, and his touch sent a tingling sensation through my skin.
“What happened? Are you avoiding me?” His voice softened slightly, but his gaze remained unrelenting.
I shook my head again, the words caught in my throat.
“Don’t just shake your head.” His tone was sharper now, commanding my attention. “Words, baby girl. I need you to speak.”
The way he called me “baby girl” made my stomach flip, though I didn’t understand why. His voice, so deep and authoritative, made my knees feel weak.
“N-no, Sebastian, I w-was just em-embarrassed because of e-earlier,” I stuttered, barely able to form the words.
He stared at me for a moment, his eyes softening as a small, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay,” he said, his voice gentler now. But then his tone shifted again, becoming firm and unyielding. “But next time, close the door of your room.”
His words were a command, not a suggestion, and I knew better than to argue. I started to nod instinctively, but his earlier insistence on using words stopped me.
“Yes,” I said softly, managing to steady my voice this time.
A low hum of approval escaped his lips, a sound that sent a strange warmth coursing through me. His fingers loosened their grip on my chin, but instead of letting go completely, his thumb brushed against the corner of my lip.
“You had this,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “right here.”
I froze, my breath hitching as he wiped away something—cheese, I realized—from my lips. The act itself was innocent enough, but the way he did it, the way his thumb lingered against my skin, felt anything but innocent.
And then, as if to drive me to the brink of insanity, he brought his thumb to his own lips, licking it clean. His eyes never left mine as he did it, the deliberate intimacy of the act making my entire body feel like it was on fire.
My legs felt like jelly, and I had to grip the edge of the counter to keep myself upright. My breathing was shallow, my heart racing as I struggled to process what had just happened.
Sebastian’s smirk deepened, as though he could see right through me, see the effect he had on me. His hand moved again, this time brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was fleeting but intimate, sending another shiver down my spine.
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, breathless and disoriented.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my racing heart. But no matter how much I tried to calm myself, the memory of his touch, his voice, and the way he looked at me lingered, making it impossible to focus.
I forced myself to finish washing the dishes, each movement mechanical as I tried to distract myself from the storm of emotions raging inside me.
When I finally finished, I wiped my hands and made my way to the living room. My parents were seated on the couch, deep in conversation with Sebastian, who looked completely unbothered, as though the events in the kitchen hadn’t even happened.
I hesitated at the doorway, my eyes drawn to him despite myself. He sat with an air of effortless confidence, his long legs crossed at the ankle, one arm draped casually over the back of the chair. His dark hair was slightly tousled, the faintest shadow of stubble accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw. He looked every bit the powerful, untouchable man he was, and yet… there was something about him that felt dangerously close, as though he could reach out and pull me into his world with just a single look.
Gathering my courage, I walked in and sat beside my mother, deliberately choosing the seat farthest from him. Even so, I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and unrelenting.
My parents were discussing something about a family gathering—a formal dinner that Sebastian was apparently hosting.
“I insist,” Sebastian said smoothly, his deep voice carrying just the right amount of charm to put my parents at ease. “It’s been far too long since we’ve all come together. A proper dinner is overdue.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Sebastian,” my mother replied warmly.
“It’s nothing,” he said, his gaze briefly flickering to me before returning to her. “Family is important.”
His words felt like they held a double meaning, though I couldn’t quite place it.
As the conversation continued, I found it harder and harder to focus. My mind kept replaying the scene in the kitchen, the way his thumb had brushed against my lips, the way he’d looked at me while licking it clean. My body betrayed me, reacting in ways I didn’t understand and couldn’t control.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” my mother asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Yes,” I said quickly, forcing a smile.
But Sebastian’s knowing smirk told me he wasn’t fooled.
When my parents excused themselves to the patio, I realized too late that it left me alone with him. The silence in the room was deafening, each second stretching into an eternity.
“You seem distracted,” he said, breaking the silence.
I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself. “I’m not.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. “Is that so?”
His eyes bore into mine, and I felt like he could see every thought, every feeling I was trying so hard to hide.
Unknowingly he made me lose my mind.
