Black Soul
1033 Words
HAZEL
My breath catches.
For a second, I think I’m seeing things.
Because down there, through the haze of lights and movement, I see him.... Hariss.
He’s standing near the edge of the floor, not laughing, not even really moving. Just… there. One hand holding a drink he’s barely touched, eyes distant, his shoulders heavier than I’ve ever seen them. He looks like someone who hasn’t slept in days. Like someone who’s lost something and doesn’t know how to find it again.
My fingers tremble against the glass. I lean closer, trying to be sure it’s really him. It has to be..... I’d know that posture anywhere. That quiet stillness, that soft curve of his jaw.
But he doesn’t see me. He can’t. The glass between us reflects only what’s behind me, the dim, private room Axel chose for us, set back and elevated, impossible for anyone below to see in.
Still, something in Haris’s face makes me feel like he senses me. His gaze lifts to the glass, not quite towards me, but close....close enough that for a heartbeat, I feel exposed.
Like he’s looking straight into my chest. Straight into everything I’m still too afraid to admit.... And I hate it. Because for a second, I almost step forward. I almost knock on the glass, almost whisper his name.
But then I remember where I am.
Who I’m with.
I glance at my reflection, hair tangled, wearing the same pajamas, sleeves pushed up, skin pale under the blue club lights. Around me, the world drips in gold and leather and smoke, and I look like a lost child who wandered into a cage.
Behind me, I feel more than see Axel shift.
He hasn’t spoken in minutes, but I can feel him watching. That quiet awareness, the kind that doesn’t need words to command silence.
His presence hums in the air. He knows something’s changed. He just doesn’t know what.
I drag in a breath, trying to fix my face, to make it look bored, empty. But the longer I stand there, the more trapped I feel... caught between two worlds that both want to devour me.
One made of love I can never have again.
The other made of power I can never escape.
And just as that feeling starts to break through my skin.... The door clicks open.
Kat glides in with her perfect hair, perfect smile, and a tray balanced on her hand.
“Here we are,” she says brightly, not even looking at me.
The glasses clink softly as she sets them down in a neat row of crystal, Axel’s dark drink gleaming in the dim light. The scent of it hits me, heavy and familiar. It makes my stomach twist.
Axel doesn’t move. He doesn’t thank her. He doesn’t even glance her way.
Kat lingers a moment longer than necessary. Her manicured fingers brush the table as if she’s waiting for him to say something, to notice her.
But Axel doesn’t say anything. His piercing gaze stays fixed on me, and it’s not the kind of look that means interest or desire. It’s sharper than that, colder. The way he looks at me feels like he’s trying to see through me, like he wants to peel me open and read every secret I’ve ever tried to hide.
I turn back toward the glass again, pretending not to notice, but my reflection betrays me, pale, anxious, out of place. I look down toward the dance floor once more.... Haris is gone.
The breath I didn’t even know I was holding slips out of me in a shaky exhale. I don’t know why I feel relieved he's gone. Maybe it’s because if he’s no longer here, Axel can’t hurt him.
When I turn back, Axel’s still watching me, that same unreadable expression on his face. I glance down at the table and notice that Kat is gone. I didn’t even hear her leave.
I move toward the sofa, putting as much distance between us as the small lounge allows. I reach for the glass of juice, lift it halfway to my lips.... and then pause. Something about it makes me hesitate. I think about Kat, the way she smiled, the way she looked at me.
I wouldn’t put it past her.
So I set the glass back down, untouched.
“Aren’t you going to drink it?” Axel asks, his voice low, almost amused.
“I don’t want to chance that your mistress put something in it,” I reply.
Axel actually smiles. A slow, knowing smile that makes my skin crawl.
“Yeah,” he says softly, “I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Did he seriously let her bring me a drink knowing she might have done something to it?
What an asshole.....!
“You’re a d**k,” I snap at him, straight to his face, my voice sharp and shaking. I want him to know exactly how I feel about him.
He bares his teeth at me. And then he does something I never, ever expected him to do.
He puts his hand on his junk, and does that thing mostly teenagers and assholes do, a crude, mocking gesture that’s so out of character for him that my brain freezes for a second.
I have no other choice but to stare. Because you have to understand, my relationship with Axel has always been distant, cold, calculated. Never once in my wildest dreams would I have imagined him doing something so immature, so absurd, so… human.
It’s kind of… boyish. I don’t know. I manage to say with disbelief in my voice.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
He laughs.
Axel actually laughs.
And I hate that it’s the first time I’ve seen him do it. I hate that I notice how his entire face changes when he does, how the sharpness softens, how his eyes crinkle just enough to make him look almost beautiful.
I don’t want it to affect me. I don’t want it to get to me..... I hate him.
Someone with such a black soul shouldn’t look the way he does.
- Writer
