Abience

Abience — an urge to withdraw or avoid a situation or an object.

As I sat there, pondering over the perplexing

behavior of this man who had brought me into his house, prepared dinner for me, and had refused to talk to me, I was suddenly entranced by the soft, melodic notes emanating from a nearby room. On impulse, I rose from my seat and followed the enchanting sound, drawn like a seeker to a treasure.

Entering the room, I was greeted by a breathtaking sight—a grand piano bathed in the warm glow of lamplight, and a figure seated before it, lost in the ecstasy of music. His fingers danced effortlessly across the keys, coaxing forth a melody that seemed to transcend time and space. Such dexterity, such skill—it was mesmerizing to behold.

As he finished playing the final notes, I couldn't help but murmur, "Beautiful." Startled, he turned to me, his eyes meeting mine with a warmth I hadn't expected. A smile graced his lips, and for a moment, I was spellbound by the sheer radiance of it. Had this man just smiled at me? The thought seemed almost too surreal to comprehend.

Subconsciously, I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to find someone else behind me. His laughter erupted in response to my action, shattering the silence like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds. It was the first time I had heard him laugh, and its beauty was undeniable.

With a gesture, he invited me closer, and I approached without hesitation. When he asked if I wanted to play, I hesitated for a moment before admitting that I wouldn't mind. He guided me to the chair, standing behind me as he positioned my fingers on the keys.

His proximity was electrifying, his breath warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. As we played together, his hands guiding mine with practised precision, I felt a strange sense of intimacy enveloping us. My head felt light, my thoughts hazy, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being ensnared in a web of desire and uncertainty. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, each touch a silent conversation, each movement drawing me deeper into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

His fingers brushed against mine, lingering just a moment too long, and my pulse quickened. Every gentle correction, every subtle shift of our hands, felt loaded with unspoken intent. My skin tingled where his touch had been, leaving a trail of warmth that both comforted and unnerved me. His eyes, intense and focused, held a secret that I was desperate to decipher, yet afraid to uncover.

The room seemed to shrink around us, the outside world fading into insignificance. His voice, low and deep, whispered instructions that seemed to carry double meanings, each word weaving a delicate thread in the intricate web between us.

Suddenly, I pulled away, the spell broken as I announced that the rain had stopped and I needed to leave. But before I could make my escape, he rushed ahead and locked the door, his words sending a chill down my spine.

"No, you're not going anywhere until you're done," he declared, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. With each step he took toward me, I took a step back, until my back pressed against the wall, trapping me between him and the cold, unyielding wall.

"Look at me, Ms. Anderson," he demanded, his gaze piercing into mine with an intensity that left me breathless. "Are you scared of me?"

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I struggled to find my voice. "Sir, the rain has stopped, and I just want to go ho-"

Dr. Avery's POV

I couldn't keep sane around her. It took everything in me not to bend her over my piano and devour her as I stood behind her guiding her fingers to play.

Intentionally drawing closer to her, I reveled in the intoxicating scent that surrounded her, sending my senses into a frenzy. Her proximity ignited a fire within me, a burning hunger that demanded satisfaction.

When she suddenly pulled away, claiming it was late and she needed to leave, I couldn't bear the thought of her slipping away from me. I was already intoxicated by her presence, consumed by an insatiable craving for her touch.

Locking the door before she made an escape, I trapped her against the wall, my senses overwhelmed by the overwhelming desire that pulsed through my veins.

"Sir, the rain has stopped, and I just want to go ho-"

I pressed my lips against hers, unable to resist the primal urge that consumed me.

But she didn't respond, her frozen demeanor, a stark reminder of the forbidden nature of our attraction. I refused to accept her rejection, refusing to let her slip away from me. Ignoring her protests, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer, relishing the gasp that escaped her lips as I deepened the kiss, determined to make her mine.