he's letting me go,
\"Where are you taking me?" She asked softly but followed him nonetheless.
When he didn't answer, she prodded his back but he merely turned to her and mock scowled. She sighed and carried on following him.
She had been asking where they were going from when they had first left their house over two hours ago. He had woken her up, made her a quick breakfast and much to her surprise, informed her that they would be spending the day together instead of going into the office as usual.
She had denied him at first but he was having none of it.
They spent two hours in the car and then he abruptly decided that he would the car in the car park of an old diner, insisting that they would walk the rest of the way. He grabbed a large rucksack from the boot and off they went. It had been ten minutes since then and they were still walking, passing by some beautiful houses and petite bungalows.
He still hadn't told her where he was taking her.
Luckily for him, she had fallen asleep for part of the car ride and so had missed the sign of the town that they had entered.
"This is it." He glanced at her from over his shoulder. He stood in front of a two-storey house with vines that still had a hint of green in them snaking up the sides of the house, some even partially covering the front. He pushed open a black sleek gate and motioned for her to walk in. He closed it behind them both and walked up the path to the front door, passing by a shiny black car that sat on the driveway.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as he pulled out a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. With a turn and a click, he pushed the door open.
She stared at him for a while, but soon complied as he grabbed her hand with his and pulled her into the house, closing the door behind him.
When he didn't say anything, she sighed and turned around.
She was met with two lush brown sofas with a fluffy white rug in between them, a dark wooden coffee table nesting upon it. The floor was a dark mahogany brown made up of sleek oak wood, so shiny and clean. The walls were a soft cream and the ceiling an egg shell white, a dainty crystal chandelier hanging from it above the centre of the room. Various bookshelves already stocked, questionable artwork and beautiful ornaments filled the room. But the large white marble fireplace was the main attraction. She had no doubt that the sight of it would be even more wondrous when the fire was turned on.
She absolutely adored the place, and she hadn't even seen any of the other rooms yet.
"Who lives here?" She asked, finally tearing her eyes away from the large white marble fire place, turning around to face him, her stare demanding answers.
He didn't squirm under her authoritative gaze or flinch at the intensity of it.
He merely stood in his spot and marvelled at her beauty. He auburn locks were pulled up into a messy bun as he had rushed her out of the house earlier this morning. She had no make-up on and had decided that an overly large sweater and leggings would be good enough but besides all of that, she was still beautiful to him. Gorgeous.
His heart ached knowing what he was going to say next, but he knew that it needed to be done.
"It's yours." He whispered to her, his voice so quiet that she feared that she had misheard him, but when he didn't move or say anything else, she knew that her instincts were correct.
"This is your house," he repeated, the sorrow evident in his voice.
Abruptly, he turned his back on her.