277 Trapped And Taken

Hazel blinked. She felt like Harold was behind a thin veil that made his face blurry. She could not see him clearly, hear him clearly. Yet his touch was on her skin, searing her.

She felt her chest tightening at that thought. A strange fire spread all over her skin. She rubbed her hands. Her dress was suddenly too tight. Her eyes were blurry. She shook her head to get rid of this sensation.

"Are you okay?" she heard him whisper too close to her ears and felt his hands on her cheeks. She leaned on it like a moth lean on the fire.

"Hazel. Are you sick?" he repeated. She could hear him but when she opened her mouth she gasped as if she had been struggling to breath.

"Are you scared of what happened?" Was that it? Was she scared? She must have been. 

"Those men, they were brutish." they had held her as if she was an object. He nodded and rubbed her back. She leaned on it. His touch was so soothing, so assuring.