Chapter Thirty Eight: The Piece to A Puzzle

She wasn’t lying when she said she knew he was there. It started as an inkling, a faint thought in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t ignore it. “Why are you here, Cedric?” He still had that same effect on her, but Lorraine knew she shouldn’t succumb to foolish feelings, not with how unsettled she was with his behavior.

“You’re different.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. It wasn’t a question nor a guess. He was simply stating a face, one which he didn’t like. Cedric didn’t expect to be stuck in that conflict he was in. He thought he knew what he wanted, but as time passed, as well as he got to know Lorraine, he began to question himself more and more. Her heated glare pinned him in place, “Her eyes hold a different kind of fire in them.”

Her lips formed a thin line, she hated feeling the way she did. “Can you just be honest with me?” She took a step closer, “Why did you want me to open the grimoire?” Her eyes softened slightly, staring intently at his impenetrable eyes. “I trusted you, I believed everything you told me.”

“And I didn’t lie.” Cedric defended heatedly.

“But you're hiding parts of the truth, aren’t you?” She noticed something in his eyes. She hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking, but she saw a flicker of guilt. It confirmed her words, but equally pulled at the strings of her heart. She couldn’t help but sympathize with him, why? She wasn’t sure. Lorraine couldn’t stop herself from moving closer, their bodies only an inch apart. Her anger was overwhelmed by something else; she wasn’t sure what it was, maybe trying to understand or to find excuses for his action.

“What do you want me to say? The grimoire needed to be opened. I needed it open!” Cedric replied with frustration clear in his tone.

Lorraine was surprised at his outburst, “Why?” She didn't yell nor did she shout. She asked her question in the most calm tone possible. When he didn’t answer right away, she walked to the window, giving her back to him. “You know I heard a voice in my head. The one word I heard was traitor, and if I'm not going crazy, then I think it was about you.”

Cedric’s eyes widened and he was once again hit with a pang of pain in his chest. He hated to admit it, but he seemed to do that to him a lot. “Do you believe it?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Lorraine kept her eyes on the faint stars in the sky, refusing to meet his eyes. She felt his cold hand touch her shoulders from behind tentatively, and he slowly turned her to look at him.

“Do you feel that?” He asked in a breathy whisper staring into her eyes. Lorraine tried to avert her eyes away from him, to turn her head and avoid the intense look from his blue eyes. It baffled her how his eyes changed like that. How they turned from cold and distant to emotionally charged. “What’s the voice telling you right now? Is it telling you the effect you have on me? Is it saying how confused you make me feel? How you make me question everything, including myself” His tortured tone made her flabbergasted, and she couldn’t form a reply. Cedric chuckled humorlessly, “I’m five hundred years old, Lorraine. And you can make me question everything. It’s pathetic.”

She wasn’t sure what came over her, but she reached out, pulled his head closer to hers, then put her lips on his, kissing him. She knew it was crazy, out of context in all ways, and it was so wrong. It was so very wrong, but it felt right all the same. At first, Cedric didn’t make a move. He was shell-shocked, flabbergasted into a frozen state. But she wrapped her arms around his neck wanting to be closer, to remove any distance between them. She hoped to diminish the barriers he held between them.

Cedric wouldn’t say that time had stopped, or that he felt electric shocks coursing through his entire body. The sensation was much more than that. She smelled like lavender and vanilla, but the blood flowing through her veins held a certain fragrance, different, maybe he would describe it as spicy. It was the way her heartbeat quickened and the movement of her lips becoming hesitant that urged him to kiss her back.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her body closer and he was kissing her back with a strange vigor; it baffled Lorraine, but stopped her mind from working all the same. All the thoughts froze and suddenly the chaotic thoughts, the doubts, and the fear vanished like they had never existed. She felt his tongue licking her lower lip, his other hand at the back of her neck, urging her to open her mouth, which Lorraine found herself doing without as much as a second thought. His tongue was in her mouth, dominating the kiss in every way, and making her feel like she was floating. Lorraine didn’t feel the solid ground beneath her feet any more.

It was a strange sensation; her heart was drumming in her ear, an erratic rhythm that she had only known to have when petrified or when her anxiety took the best of her, yet mixed with a feeling of serenity and hunger. She was hungry for more, of what? She wasn’t sure. On the other hand, Cedric knew exactly what he wanted. It was the same thing he had imagined and craved a few days ago, to kiss her. Back then it was like a dull ache, but as he held her in his arms, Cedric wanted everything she had. Her small frame held against his like a piece to a puzzle, the taste of her was addictive and he craved more of everything she had to offer. But he knew he had to pull away. He decided that she would need to breathe at some point.

Lorraine’s eyes remained closed as he pulled away. Their lips were still touching, his breath brushed her lips like a fluttering of a butterfly, and it reminded her that she needed to breathe as well. Her eyes opened hesitantly, and she looked at him from under her lashes. Cedric hadn’t moved away, his arms stayed wrapped around her. Her mouth was agape, willing her voice to come out, to form any words. However, nothing came out.

Cedric blinked, as if coming out of a daze, shook his head and pulled away from her. He was looking at her like she was a grim reaper coming for his soul, to take him to the lowest pits of hell. He was looking at her like he was scared of what she could do. “You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was tender, unblaming, but scathed her heart all the same.

She furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, “Why? You told me that you feel for me.” With every small step he took away from her, she moved closer. Cedric felt like the prey in the situation, a feeling he hadn’t had in a really long time. “I do too.” He looked at her with wide eyes, and she nodded with a short sigh. “Whenever I see you, I just… I don’t even know how to describe it, but it’s like you're the only one I see. Your presence consumes my mind.” She bit her lower lip hesitantly, “Some days I find myself thinking about you first thing in the morning, wondering what you’d be doing or when you’d show up.” She chuckled humorlessly, “Cedric, it hurts so bad to even think you’re lying to me, or that you think of me as some sort of a pawn in your bigger plans, whatever they are.” Her hand hovered over his cheek, and she swallowed whatever pride she thought she had, “I don’t know what’s happening.” She caressed his cheek softly, “But I want to figure it out. So, please don’t hurt me.”

Cedric knew that it was getting out of hand. He knew he shouldn’t stay there any longer. He needed to move away from her, to keep his distance at any cost. She was clouding his mind, his judgment, and even his heart. Therefore, he turned away from her, and jumped out of the same window he came through, leaving her to stare after him. The guilt was gripping at his heart; *“She doesn’t deserve this.”*