Chapter 3

Elisabeth awoke to the sound of her alarm clock the next morning. Annoyed, she outstretched her hand and flicked it off. Silence returned, and she groaned, and opened her eyes to the blue ceiling.

Saturday morning. Great. Boy, did she have something to look forward to that day... not.

She sat up, and in doing so, the blood seemed to return to her brain, and one name shot through her mind.

Paul.

She closed her eyes in fright, and in doing so; she saw that hypnotic stare, saw those eyes going into her, opening up her past.

Oh God, he knows all about me, she thought shuddering, hugging her knees in her bed. I don't know how, but he does. When he looked at me last night- no one had ever looked at me like that before. Not that many guys had ever looked at her anyway, but when Paul had, he's seemed to look beyond just her face and eyes, he'd looked right inside her, and read all about her.

Her whole history of guys, or lack of it, her inexperience, her naivety- Paul knew it all.

Just like that.

He had even more power over her.

Feeling his presence now, she jumped out of bed, and ran out of her room towards the bathroom to escape him, and nearly bumped right into... Steve.

Steve, not wearing very much.

She stopped in her tracks and stared at him surprised, just coming out of the bathroom.

"Hey Liz," he grinned sheepishly at her.

She just stared back, gob-smacked, before remembering how gorgeous he was, and becoming horribly self-conscious of what she was wearing. Just pj bottoms and a grey vest top.

"Er... morning," she managed to say.

God, it hadn't taken Becky very long, had it?

"Feeling better?" He asked her, casually rubbing his hand through his short, wet spiky hair.

Woah, he's cute, she thought swallowing her voice at the same time.

Stop staring Elisabeth! She scolded.

"Er... yeah, thanks," she said.

"What was up?" He asked, trying to make conversation.

"I- er- suddenly had a really bad headache," she lied. "Sorry."

"That's alright, babe," he replied grinning. "Another time, yeah? You missed a great game of bowls, though."

"Who won?" She asked, pretending to be interested, but she felt her heart racing. She's never been so close to a guy clad in so little before! Just a T-shirt and boxer shorts. If she ever caught Becky's boyfriends "the morning after", they never stopped to say anything to her. But Steve was being really friendly. And God, he was oh so cute...

"Paul," Steve declared, and just the sound of his name cut through Elisabeth like a knife. His eyes were back on her again, and she felt her knees buckling.

"He's really good at... Hey- you ok?" he suddenly asked, concerned.

Elisabeth forced strength to run back into her legs again to stop her falling, but in doing so, she knocked herself off balance and she stumbled.

"Hey!" Steve called, anxious, and grabbed her arm and steadied her.

God, it was as if Paul was in the room, she shivered. His presence was so strong. It was like he was inside her- unfortunately enough.

Steve pulled her really close, and she suddenly felt really nervous, because of him.

"You alright?" he asked her, and he looked down at her.

"Erm... yeah, thanks," she said, and she looked up at him.

But instead of expecting him to be looking at her, he was looking below her face, and when Elisabeth did realise where he was looking, she blushed with embarrassment at the shock and thrill of it, and pulled away.

God, I hate being so naïve around guys, she thought.

I'm 24! It's embarrassing!

"Everything ok?" Becky's head appeared from behind her bedroom door, and she saw the two of them.

"Hey babe! Elisabeth just slipped," Steve explained.

"You feeling better, hun?" Becky asked, addressing her. "Why d'ya run off last night?"

Elisabeth blushed. "I didn't "run off"," she said quietly.

"Well, you shot off suddenly," Becky said. "Paul was worried about you."

That caught her off guard. "H- He was?" She choked.

"Yeah, he thought he'd scared you off or something!" Becky laughed.

But Elisabeth didn't find it funny. She found it horribly, horribly real.

"Don't worry about Paul, Liz," Steve said, as if reading her mind. "He's a little mad at times! And says what he thinks. He didn't mean to offend you, if he did," he shrugged.

It's not anything he said, Elisabeth argued in her head.

It's just what he did, who he is.

He just gets me; not in a nice way, not even in an annoying way- in a distressing way.

"It- it wasn't Paul," she lied. "I- I just felt ill."

"Well, if you're not feeling too well, then don't worry about going shopping," Becky said.

Oh God, Elisabeth remembered. Yeah- we were supposed to go shopping today!

"Er... maybe I should skip it," she said, feeling unsure of herself, and how she was feeling. God, after that episode with Paul, she didn't feel sure of anything anymore.

"Alright then, sweetie. Go back to bed and get some rest," Becky replied. "I think Steve'll be here for a couple more hours anyway, before he goes."

Elisabeth nodded. "I'll just go the bathroom," she told them, and she walked past Steve, and closed the door behind her. She could immediately smell his aftershave.

Mmm- nice!

Elisabeth, control yourself!

She got washed- thankfully sprinkling cold water over her face, trying to remove Paul from her thoughts.

God, he was one strange guy, she thought. Thank God I'll never have to see him again.

She grabbed the sides of the basin and stared hard into the mirror again. Her olive reflection stared back, and her blonde hair a little ruffled from the nights sleep. She'd found it hard to get to sleep last night. She just couldn't seem to regain her composure for hours after meeting Paul. She'd laid there for hours, just thinking about him.

But I don't fancy him, she thought confused. I don't even LIKE him. I can't stop thinking about him because, he's somehow, in the space of that half hour, lodged himself inside my head and he won't budge.

God, what if he never goes away? She thought worriedly.

What if I can see him staring at me for the rest of my life?

She tried to reiterate what Paul had done last night, and stared deep into her reflection's eyes.

What the hell had he seen?

How did he do that?

What he had done?

She didn't think it was possible for anyone to ever look at someone like that, like Paul had done last night.

He certainly was a mystery.

What had Paul seen, when he looked at me? She thought.

The me I show to the world, all shy, independent, not needing a man?

Or the real me- desperately lonely, so inexperienced, wanting love more than anything?

How much did Paul know?