Chapter Four
Renata
The woman's eyes glimmer, transforming into darker, sharper reflections, like she just stepped off a dramatic movie set. Suddenly, the candle flickers, and I can't help but roll my eyes. Good job, draft. I take a moment to look around, confirming that all the windows are indeed closed, because clearly, I need to babysit the air now.
Goosebumps suddenly ripple across my skin, lingering uncomfortably. The woman's smile shifts, morphing into something more raw and primal as she stands and walks toward a hidden cupboard. I watch, half amused, as she carefully retrieves an object, handling it like it's a family heirloom instead of an outdated trinket.
Instead of sitting back down, she walks right up to me, invading my personal space. I mean, we just met, lady! She's so close that I can see the object in her hand-a crystal, small and translucent, about the size of my thumb.
"Open your palm," she instructs calmly.
Her words are firm, yet inviting. I extend my left hand instinctively, but she shakes her head like I just failed a quiz.
"Use your right hand instead." Oh, well, excuse me for not having a crystal-handling hand preference!
Setting aside my initial resistance, I present my right hand with my palm open, because who doesn't love a dramatic moment? She places the crystal inside and wraps my fingers around it with an almost possessive grip.
A warm surge fills my hand, and I glance down in surprise at my now-closed fist. Seriously, though-what is going on?
The woman's eyes transform, reflecting a depth of darkness that feels like it can swallow me whole. Great, just what I need-intensity on top of everything else.
"Now, close your eyes, Isabella, and delve into the origin of why you came back," she says, guiding me gently.
My initial instinct is to throw a tantrum worthy of a toddler denied another cookie, but something about her gaze says that might not be the best idea. So, I sigh dramatically and reluctantly close my eyes.
At first, all I see is darkness-like the inside of a poorly lit closet after a power outage. But then, a bright light bursts forth, and suddenly I feel like I'm on a roller coaster, starting to plummet.
I open my eyes and blink, trying to shake off the fog. Instead of the sitting room, I find myself in some kind of barn. Horses grunt, shifting from one hoof to the other, totally unimpressed with my arrival.
What wonder is this?
Without missing a beat, I find myself moving forward, as if some higher power has decided it's time to take the lead on this unexpected field trip.
I hear voices as I walk closer. Soft lighting hits me as I round a corner. Two people sit close to each other, engrossed in conversation. A young man and a girl, if I'm guessing their ages right.
"Hello!" I call out, but they don't seem to register my presence, so I move in a little closer, cranking up the charm. "Hi!" I try again, maybe a bit louder this time.
Still . . . their eyes are solidly locked on each other, their words low and urgent. Seriously? Am I invisible or something?
Why aren't they replying to me?
Why are they acting like I'm a ghost?
I stand right next to them and wave my hand in front of their faces. Nothing. They keep talking in their little bubble, oblivious to my existence. Talk about rude!
I remember the woman's words about going back to the origin of why I came back. Whatever that even means. . .
And then it hits me like a brick.
I'm here only as an observer. An onlooker. A bystander. Guess I'm just a part of the audience in this little drama.
So instead of trying to get their attention, I stop and listen to their sweet little exchange.
"You are beautiful, Isabella," the young man tells the girl.
Well, at least he has taste.
I peer at her, noticing the tingle of red on her cheeks. She raises a hand and touches his face in return, shaking her head as if he just declared he wants to build a time machine. Awe is written all over her face. "You are the beautiful one," she says, sounding like she just emerged from a romantic comedy.
He barks out a laugh at her words, clearly not used to being put on such a high pedestal. Slowly, almost reverently, he traces her full lower lips with his thumb while a look of adoration spreads across his face. "You obviously don't see what I see," he says with that classic boyish charm that makes me want to roll my eyes.
Honestly, I don't know what I expected when I touched the crystal, but a front-row seat to this cheesy romance wasn't it. I feel like the world's worst intruder on their private moment.
As I turn away, a thought strikes me. A name, actually.
The young man mentioned a name earlier. . .
"Isabella!" I say out loud, because who doesn't love a dramatic reveal?
In the blink of an eye, something strange happens. I'm no longer standing and staring at them.
Now, I'm sitting and staring at Henry, in the exact position Isabella was in, and feeling all these strong emotions bubble up inside me. Mammoth butterflies wage war in my belly, fighting for dominance, while my heart beats a tambourine in my chest.
How is this possible? Did I accidentally step into my own love story or what?
How am I suddenly looking at Henry as if . . .
As if I am Isabella.
Unknown to my innermost distress, the young man, Henry, traces a hot, feathery line down to my neck. Wildfire singes my skin everywhere he touches, and goosebumps break out all over my body, making me shiver slightly.
Henry's eyes darken. He knows exactly what his touch does to me, but he's completely oblivious to how hard I'm trying to hold back my desire.
I open my mouth. "I want-"
He places a finger against my lips. "I know, Bellisima, I know, but we can't. You are still-"
"I don't want to hear it." I shoot up like a jack-in-the-box. The lightness I felt earlier has vanished, leaving restlessness in its wake. Why do I feel so out of sorts, so annoyed at his rejection?
Seriously, does he think a little age gap is going to scare me off? I turn to look at him, my heart racing, and before my brain can intervene, words tumble out. "I may not be eighteen yet, but I know what I want." I lean towards him with a playful smirk. "And what I want is you, Henry. I want you with every fiber of my being, and let's be honest - you want me too."
There's a spark in his eyes that tells me I'm not the only one who's feeling this heat, but then he looks at me like I'm something to be pitied, and then he stands and holds my hand. "Then, let's do it."
My mouth pops open. And then it closes, like a fish out of water.
He's not going to argue?
No lecture on how I'm still a minor and have two years to grow up? Am I dreaming, or has he finally lost his mind?
Is he joking?
Does he think agreeing with me is his way of shutting me up?
As if reading my mind, he smiles that sunny smile - honestly, it's almost blinding - and shakes his head. "No! I'm not joking, my beautiful Bella. I want to fulfill your wish." He shrugs, letting out a laugh. "Actually. . . I would like to fulfill my wish too."
I look into his eyes and see the intensity. The way he looks at me, like I'm the most interesting puzzle he's ever tried to solve. His fingers tighten around mine, and he holds my gaze like it's the most valuable thing in the room.
My Henry is finally ready.
Suddenly, I feel shy. Ugh, where did that come from? I break our stare down, my gaze dropping to the floor. The hay on the ground scrapes against my feet as I shuffle my feet awkwardly. Even the horses around us seem to sense my sudden awkwardness. Great, even they're judging me now.
But seriously, can I just keep it together for once?
"Don't tell me you've gotten cold feet all of a sudden?"
Warm fingers raise my chin, and I meet deep green eyes with flecks of gold, a combination that can rival any overpriced candle. Honestly, who does this guy think he is, staring at me like he's got a monopoly on my thoughts? Still, I can't move even if I wanted to. . .
Not that I want to.
His face comes closer.
Closer still, until his mouth ghosts over mine.
It's feathery, but it still makes me shiver. Real smooth, I think to myself. He pulls back, those emeralds questioning me, but we both know the answer. I close the distance, pressing my lips to his. This time, he opens his mouth like he just found a hidden stash of candy.
His hand tightens around my waist, pulling me in, and then - surprise - they drop.
But he just smiles, as if he weren't the one playing games. He removes his coat like it's no big deal and lays it on the ground. My hands tingle - probably electricity, or maybe just the thrill of this ridiculous situation - when he takes my hand again, and we both lie down on his coat.
I close my eyes because if I keep staring into those mesmerizing green eyes, I'm going to spontaneously combust from too much pleasure - or worse, I might start giggling.
I feel his hands hovering at the back of my dress. Slowly, he pulls down the zipper. My eyes fly wide open. Oh, honey, words are definitely not necessary right now.
A long moan bursts from my mouth as Henry's hands pave a pathway down my body.
I open my eyes, eager to see his handsome face, but notice something is off . . .
I'm no longer in the barn.
I'm lying on the floor, my face stuck to the ground like a pancake that really should be flipped. Drool escapes from the corner of my mouth and pools beneath me.
Immediately, I jet up, hair a wild mess and dignity somewhere in a corner.
I'm back in the strange woman's house.
"How. . . what . . . just happened?" I mutter, as though demanding an explanation for my unceremonious return. Like, really? Did I just get booted from my moment of bliss to rehearse my drooling floor routine? That's not how this was supposed to go!
I was just about to get down with a gorgeous hunk.
My mouth feels like cotton wool is stuck inside it, and my head is a fuzzy-horrible combo. Even my body still buzzes from the wild shenanigans with Henry.
"You went back in time, Isabella."
When the woman sneaked up on me, I didn't know, I swear she has the aura of a dark angel, intense stare and all.
"I don't. . . I still don't understand."
She sighs like I'm a disappointment, and gestures to the chair. "Take a seat."
This time, I don't argue. Honestly, debating with a mysterious woman who might have time-traveling powers is not how I pictured my day going. I just want some clarity.
I nod and sink into the chair, hoping it doesn't turn into a time machine, too.