Losing Myself in You by Heather C. Myers

here has been waiting for you, and to be one of the first people to see you… Well, it's an honor, really." She finished with a blush on her face, and Bridgette couldn't help but smile, even though she didn’t want to.
    Abigail was no more than five foot three, maybe five foot four if she stood a certain way. She had dark, auburn hair that probably looked redder in the sunlight. She was wearing a white, long sleeved shirt underneath a sage green jumper. She had white knee socks on and black Mary Janes on her feet. She was a cute girl, with freckles sprawled out over her pale face, and dark blue eyes that could be mistaken as mischievous.
    "Um, thanks," Bridgette said, a subtle hint of flatness in her voice due to the fact that she was slightly uncomfortable. She never thought anyone, let alone strangers she didn't even know, would want to see her.
    "In fact," Abigail said. "It's a good thing you're up too. Everyone’s waiting. Dinner should be ready in a couple of hours, so we should probably start getting ready."
    "Getting ready for what?" Bridgette practically yelped, her defenses on high alert. She even took a step back to ensure there was some sort of distance between herself and the girl in front of her.
    "Dinner, of cour se," Abigail said, pausing.  Her brows were furrowed, as though she were unsure of what caused Bridgette’s sudden change in demeanor.
    "Dinner?" Bridgette in the same tone before shaking her head. "No. I'm not eating with him."
    "But, miss, he insists ," Abigail said. "And I know that sounds as though he's requesting it, but he's really not. He's ordering you to be dressed appropriately and down in the dining room at six sharp."
    "I do n't care," Bridgette said, her tone firm.  Her ice blue eyes didn’t flinch as they looked at Abigail. "You go tell him I won't eat with him."
    Bridgette could tell Abigail kept a look of frustration from crossing her features before nodding a couple of times. "I will go tell him," she agreed, and turned around to head out the door. "But he will not be happy."
    When Bridgette was finally left alone, she rushed over to the door handle and immediately locked it.
    It was a good thing she did too, because in a manner of moments, she could hear someone stomping up the stairs, to her room, before banging on her door.
    "You are coming to dinner," a familiar, gravelly voice ordered in a booming tone.
    "No I'm not," Bridgette replied, just as firm. Marcus, she realized, could definitely be intimidating when he wanted to be .  She was glad they weren’t face to face; she couldn’t even imagine his expression on his features, just outside the door.
    "Yes you are," he argued before banging on the door once again.
    "No I'm not ," Bridgette said; fists forming at her side. At that moment, she was all but afraid of Marcus. In fact, she was boiling mad at him. "I'd rather starve than eat with you!"
    There was a moment's pause.
    "Fine," Marcus said after a while. His voice was no longer booming, but it still had the same effect. " Fine . If you won't eat with me, then you won’t eat with anyone ."
    “That doesn’t even make sense!” Bridgette screamed from behind the door.
    Bridgette felt her body tense again, preparing for another fight, but she heard his footsteps disappear back down the stairs.
    And then, it was silent once more.
     
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Chapter 12
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    She would rather starve than eat dinner with him.
    Well. That was a new one.
    Marcus had to clench his teeth together and coil his fingers into fists in order to prevent himself from turning around and banging on her bedroom door until she finally relented and decided to eat with them. He gave her the whole day to rest. He didn't force her to get up and eat breakfast with them, nor did he force her to eat lunch with them. She had to be getting hungry. Couldn't she just put on some kind of dress and impress the Elders for a couple of hours?
    But wait… Marcus froze as a tingling sensation began to slither up his spine.