4.

Belle

A strange mix of anticipation and nervousness flares in me as we approach the house. Arcade's home stands alone in the bayou, a small cabin almost swallowed by the surrounding wilderness. The weathered wood, highlights years of neglect.

Ivy and moss cling to the walls, and the windows are clouded with dirt, barely letting any light through. It's clear that this place needs a woman's touch, a bit of care to transform it from a shelter into a home, but I'm not sure Arcade would want that. I think he likes it like this.

Arcade opens the door and gestures for me to step inside. I hesitate for a short moment, then cross the threshold. The air inside is cool and damp, filled with the scent of something musty. The furniture is sparse and functional—a rough wooden table, a couple of chairs, and a cot in the corner. Everything is covered in a thin layer of dust, as if it hasn't been cleaned in a long time.

I wander slowly through the room, taking in my new surroundings. My fingers trail over the worn surfaces, leaving clean streaks in the dust. It's clear that Arcade cares about as much about his habitat as his appearance. Which is very little. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

"It's not much, but it's all I've got," he says, his voice rough and low.

I turn to him, offering a small smile. "I don't need it to be more," I say, though I know he can see the truth in my eyes. This place is a far cry from what I'm used to, but there's something about it that feels exciting. This is a world so different from my own.

He gestures to one of the chairs, and I sit down gracefully, trying to hide how nervous I feel because I know there's going to be a questioning. Arcade remains standing, his gaze never leaving me. The push and pull between us is dizzying. I want him to touch me, to bridge the distance, but he holds back and seems frustrated with it.

"Tell me what you were doing in the bayou, all on your own?" he grunts, failing to hide the slight accusation in his voice.

He doesn't want to hear that I frequently swim around naked, hoping to lure in a man. And I don't. I've never done something like this before.

I hesitate, searching for an answer that will satisfy him without revealing too much. "I like how quiet it is here," I finally say. "And the bayou is beautiful at night."

He nods, though I can see he's not entirely convinced. "Where are you from?"

I look down, avoiding his gaze. "I'm from a town, not too far from here, but I needed a change, a break from everything. This seemed like the perfect escape."

My answers are vague, but I can't tell him the whole truth, not yet. The tension in the room is thick, charged with unspoken words and rising desire. I want him to touch me, kiss me, but I can sense his worry of coming on too strong, of scaring me away.

"Now that you're here, you're going to stay," he says, his voice rough like a grater. "For as long as I want you. Do you understand?"

I look up at him, swallowing. "Yes. For as long as you want."

He steps closer, and my breath catches in my throat. His hand reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I lean into his touch, my eyes closing briefly as I savor the contact. Our bodies are so close, the air between us electric with anticipation. His lips part slightly, and I can see the sharp longing in his eyes.

The tension is almost unbearable, a taut string ready to snap. I want him, more than I've ever wanted anything, but I need him to make the first move.

"You," he gravels, his voice coarse with longing. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me…?"

I place a finger on his lips, silencing him. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me?"

His eyes meet mine, filled with relief and longing. He takes a deep breath, and I can feel the shift in the air between us. Slowly, he leans down, our faces inches apart, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. My heart races, my body responding to his nearness with a heady mix of fear and desire.

In this moment, nothing else exists. Just the two of us, standing in the dimly lit cabin, surrounded by the untamed beauty of the bayou. I can feel the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his breath, and I know, deep in my soul, that I'm falling for him. Hard.

"I'm yours," I whisper, my voice a whisper in the stillness.

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes, you are" he rasps. "And nobody else's."