Yelena Auclair lived in Portland since she was 9 years old. Moving from Canada was the only good choice that her father has ever made.
As anyone can imagine, growing up with an alcoholic father isn't the best childhood. But for her coming home to a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ringing. That was all I could hear. I gripped my chest so tight that I might have left marks on myself. I was gasping for air as I turned my head to glance behind me, prepared to hide inside my house if Hayley decided that she was going to murder me for whatever the fuck I did back there.
It's the first time I've gotten into a fight like this. I don't usually get in fights, almost never actually. The only times I can recall being in "fights" were back in primary school, where kids would pick on me. I didn't fight back.
„Impressive, love, impressive. Thank God you stopped that dog, because if I could, she'd regret ever laying a finger on you." A deep voice with a screaming British accent spoke, finishing the sentence with a small growl.
I froze, goosebumps appearing on my skin. That voice... It sounds so familiar.
I turned around, and my eyes widened.
A tall man dressed in clothes that looked like they were from another century, with long legs and a lean frame, stood in front of me.
His head was tilted, his hazel eyes seeming to scan me carefully. His caramel brown hair almost reached his neck, it being styled in messy curls.
Oh my God.
"Dominik?" I asked, my heart beating faster and faster. For a moment, I forgot about my pain. I brought my hands to my mouth, blinking twice to make sure I was not dreaming.
I better not be dreaming of meeting my dead soulmate. "We finally meet face-to-face, love." He said as he took a step towards me, accentuating the word finally. Without thinking twice, I acted on my instincts, and I dashed towards him, wrapping my hands around him.
I exhaled, gripping him tightly. A big wave of different emotions washed over me as I felt his hands embracing me. Why am I acting this way towards him? Why am I so, so attached?
„Y-You... How are you here? You're alive?" My voice cracked as I buried my face into the crook of his neck, sniffing. His hand gripped the back of my head softly, and he pressed his forehead against mine. "I'm here, but I'm not alive, little love. I was always here."
I frowned, confused as I scanned his face quickly, my whole body trembling. The mix of happiness, confusion, fear, and pain is not helping my state. „Bloody hell, baby... You're trembling." Dominik hugged my body tighter, burying his face into my disheveled hair.
I'm trying to calm down, really. But all I'm doing now is crying into his embrace. I feel safe. For the first fucking time, I feel safe.
His gaze fell on my bleeding arm, and I felt his jaw clench as he slowly caressed my wound. I hissed, biting my lip hard. Cheers to low pain tolerance, I guess.
His gaze suddenly softened as he scanned my face worriedly. My eyes, my nose, and the small bruise on my right cheek. "I'm going to murder that dog myself as soon as I'm out of this shithole." He muttered, his voice low as he nuzzled his forehead against mine, soothing me.