- And may God forgive us our sins - thus Father Bee ends the prayer.
The children's choir begins to sing soon after. Today is Sunday, which means everyone in the compound comes to church. I am sitting on one of the last benches in the temple, which allows me to be alone.
I close my eyes for a second as I follow the music. Being here is one of the only light things in the last few days. Everything was so intense and complicated.
And speaking of intense and complicated...
I feel when he sits next to me. He's not close enough to touch me, but I can smell the cool shower and the cologne. His shoe is touching my heel, and if it was anyone else, I'd swear it was a light touch. Yet with him, I know that even the position of his feet is calculated.
I don't open my eyes, however, I can imagine him next to me. I don't breathe my own air. I breathe it. I feel it on my skin, because his eyes on me are enough to touch me.
The choir's first song ends, and the children soon begin to sing another. I'm grateful for all the noise around us, because my heart is pounding so hard that LeBlanc might be able to hear it.
- Why were you angry? I ask in a whisper.
- When? - his voice is hoarse and deep, and I don't know when my body started associating that sound with goosebumps.
Sigh. I can't hide until the end of the mass. I open my eyes, but I refuse to look at him.
"Yesterday when we left the warehouse," I said. We both stare straight ahead, and I expect him to answer while the choir is still singing. However, after a long minute, I realize that I won't get an answer. I'm getting closer to him - Did it piss you off that I said I would marry Vicenzo?
In peripheral vision, I see a smirk forming on his face. I'm finally back in the game.
- He's my boyfriend, it's normal that he becomes my fiancé one day - I continue.
**
The sides of our bodies are glued together. I know I shouldn't. Detective Pierce alerted me to LeBlanc less than two hours ago. However, why is evil so good?
LeBlanc's hand casually rests on the bare part of my leg where the fabric of the dress ends. I catch my breath instantly, looking sideways, partly afraid of being caught, partly drawn to the irreverence.
A tingle starts on my skin and creeps all over my body to my toes. It annoys me, because his touch is subtle, almost imperceptible. I shouldn't be so sensitive to the man who didn't even tell me his first name. It proves how right the detective is about me.
Leblanc leans in, bringing his face closer. I try to let my breath expire, but it seems to fail when his breath hits the skin of my neck. I continue to stare straight ahead, fearing that my large eyes might betray our recklessness.
- Nope. He's not your boyfriend - he whispers - He's not your future fiancé - his hand goes up to my thigh, squeezing until I'm sure his fingers will mark on me - He doesn't is nothing to you.
His face turns away from the crook of my neck, but his hand continues to squeeze. I squeeze my thighs together. And, as Father Bee said so well, may God forgive us our sins.
I wait impatiently, and my gaze meets that of a little choir girl. She smiles at me, and now I'm sure I'll burn in the eternal fire. I look away and stare at the male hand on my thigh. I don't know which is worse.
- Who do you think you are to define that? - I ask.
With all my strength, I need your touch. I want him to touch me like I do when I'm alone. I wish that our games end, without winner, and that our bodies can know each other as they desperately wish. However, the words I've heard from Margot all my life ring in my head. He can't have what he wants if he doesn't deserve it, can he? I can't give in to a man who refuses to tell me who he is.
- Its owner - LeBlanc speaks again, in a soft and surprisingly calm voice.
I smile.
Holy shit. He has more common sense than that.
LeBlanc is an asshole.
- Not even. I'm not property - I pull his hand off my thigh and place it on his own leg.
"It wasn't a question," he said.
**