Under Your Skin
Meeting Place.
Ever read those romance stories that tell you about Prince Charming, the evil villain or the one true love that’s the most likely candidate? Well, you’re about to read another, it’s the story of a girl named Spencer Peterson. Bright and responsible, no one could have guessed what would have happened on that faithful night, not even herself could believe it.
Sleeping peacefully, snuggling up to her English Bulldog named Fran and her small teddy bear her mother had won her at a fair a couple years back, Spencer was the picture of beauty rest. Throughout her eighteen years of her life, she had never woken up to such a rude awakening like she did that very minute. Shouting out of surprise when warm hands touched her bare stomach, Spencer’s eyes widened as they flew open to spot the Native American Indian perched over her in a warrior mask of paint, attempting to pick her up without waking her. It had failed and now she was alert, with a very irritable growl coming from deep within his chest, the man who looked no older than twenty, picked her up without warning and started walking out of her bedroom door, like no one else was home. “What are you doing? Let me go! Mom! Dad!” she shouted for help but it was like no one could hear her, her shrill cried led to nothing and after a while, she gave up and let the panic consume her.
After a long rest, Spencer woke and found herself in a cone like room that slanted from the pointed roof. That’s when it dawned on her, she had been kidnapped and she was inside a tepee, the man who had stolen her had taken her into his tepee. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the wardrobe change he had given her, if she thought about it she would surely be angered by it and she couldn’t afford that when she was busy trying to concentrate on escaping, but as soon as the flap was pushed open and she bolted from the tent, she stared at the scenery around her and her heart skipped a few beats, her mind went blank and her breathing increased speed. She was nowhere near her home, she had been in filthy old New York, now this place she was in, was beautiful and clean. The area around her was filled with Native American women, dressed in traditional clothes, carrying out chores as the little ones ran around playing, giggling. The men walked around with pride, their chest poked out and back straightened. But what really amazed her beyond the beauty of the camp she was in, where all the tepees were put up with little things everyone treasured, was the sky. The sky was bright, a gold color with clouds that looked like they were on fire, red and orange as it brightened or dimmed. “Good morning, Spencer,” she paused in her gazing to turn around and stare at the same man that had kidnapped her, but he wasn’t anything like she remembered. The war paint that had colored his face in fury was now cleaned off to show a flawless light brown complexion, his eyes were deep brown and his hair long, to his mid-back in black waves. It was pinned to the top of his head in a half band, hold of it hung loosely to his back and the rest stayed in spot. “It is good to see you awake.”
“Who the hell are you and where am I?” Spencer glanced nervously to him before she circled around her, studying everything she could see. “What is this place?”
“You are a wild spirit,” his laugh rumbled in his chest as he cautiously lifted his hand and held it forward for her, he saw that she had no intention on grasping it and firmly, yet gently urged her. “If you take my hand, I will explain everything to you, there are things you must know.”
“How can I trust you,” her hands found their way to her chest where she cradled them like she was holding her teddy bear, she was shaking with fear as she stepped backwards. “I want to go home.”
“If you do not come, I will be forced to take you,” he said almost reluctantly as he began to take back his hand, fear had froze Spencer but at hearing his declaration, she extended her hand and grasped his hand, his long fingers circled around her small ones and held tight. “Do not worry, love.”
Sleeping peacefully, snuggling up to her English Bulldog named Fran and her small teddy bear her mother had won her at a fair a couple years back, Spencer was the picture of beauty rest. Throughout her eighteen years of her life, she had never woken up to such a rude awakening like she did that very minute. Shouting out of surprise when warm hands touched her bare stomach, Spencer’s eyes widened as they flew open to spot the Native American Indian perched over her in a warrior mask of paint, attempting to pick her up without waking her. It had failed and now she was alert, with a very irritable growl coming from deep within his chest, the man who looked no older than twenty, picked her up without warning and started walking out of her bedroom door, like no one else was home. “What are you doing? Let me go! Mom! Dad!” she shouted for help but it was like no one could hear her, her shrill cried led to nothing and after a while, she gave up and let the panic consume her.
After a long rest, Spencer woke and found herself in a cone like room that slanted from the pointed roof. That’s when it dawned on her, she had been kidnapped and she was inside a tepee, the man who had stolen her had taken her into his tepee. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the wardrobe change he had given her, if she thought about it she would surely be angered by it and she couldn’t afford that when she was busy trying to concentrate on escaping, but as soon as the flap was pushed open and she bolted from the tent, she stared at the scenery around her and her heart skipped a few beats, her mind went blank and her breathing increased speed. She was nowhere near her home, she had been in filthy old New York, now this place she was in, was beautiful and clean. The area around her was filled with Native American women, dressed in traditional clothes, carrying out chores as the little ones ran around playing, giggling. The men walked around with pride, their chest poked out and back straightened. But what really amazed her beyond the beauty of the camp she was in, where all the tepees were put up with little things everyone treasured, was the sky. The sky was bright, a gold color with clouds that looked like they were on fire, red and orange as it brightened or dimmed. “Good morning, Spencer,” she paused in her gazing to turn around and stare at the same man that had kidnapped her, but he wasn’t anything like she remembered. The war paint that had colored his face in fury was now cleaned off to show a flawless light brown complexion, his eyes were deep brown and his hair long, to his mid-back in black waves. It was pinned to the top of his head in a half band, hold of it hung loosely to his back and the rest stayed in spot. “It is good to see you awake.”
“Who the hell are you and where am I?” Spencer glanced nervously to him before she circled around her, studying everything she could see. “What is this place?”
“You are a wild spirit,” his laugh rumbled in his chest as he cautiously lifted his hand and held it forward for her, he saw that she had no intention on grasping it and firmly, yet gently urged her. “If you take my hand, I will explain everything to you, there are things you must know.”
“How can I trust you,” her hands found their way to her chest where she cradled them like she was holding her teddy bear, she was shaking with fear as she stepped backwards. “I want to go home.”
“If you do not come, I will be forced to take you,” he said almost reluctantly as he began to take back his hand, fear had froze Spencer but at hearing his declaration, she extended her hand and grasped his hand, his long fingers circled around her small ones and held tight. “Do not worry, love.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Should I keep working on this or should I take it down.If you want, I'll post pictures of what the warrior and Spencer looks like in the summary.