Bindings by Emma Alanna Vilaysack (books to get back into reading TXT) 📖

see a silver, sleek Porche pull into the drive way. I ran to the door and stood on my tiptoes too look out the peephole. "Who could it be?" I whispered softly to myself.

Waiting impatiently, I watched for a figure to walked up to the door way. It took a couple minutes until I finally saw someone in a heavy black coat walk up and knock several times. My father, who was in the kitchen, called out, "Alaska... who is it?" I opened the door and there stood a tall man wearing a black coat and a scarf that covered his mouth and nose. His long, black hair shaded his stormy gray eyes that illuminated off of his slightly tanned skin. Small snowflakes grasped onto strands of his hair and I noticed him shiver softly. "Come in, come in," I said softly, pulling gently on his arm, leading him into the greeting room. My father walked in with a dishcloth in his hand and an apron tied around his body. He stared at the man for a second then rushed to close the door and hurriedly took off his apron. "I am sorry to disturb you both, but the snow is building up out there and I am almost out of car fuel. I saw the candles on your windows and I prayed that this be an Inn." His voice had a slight accent, Russian or Romanian maybe. My father wiped his hands with the towel and glanced at me, "Well no this is not an Inn," he hesitated for a moment and glanced out the window to see a blizzard form, "but you are welcome to stay Mister-" I glanced up at the tall man, hoping he'd take off his scarf and reveal his face. "Volkard, Victor Volkard." He shook my father's hand and glanced at me, I could feel his eyes linger on mine as I peered down at Ella.

"Well Mister Volkard-" the man interrupted my father, "Please call me Victor, no need to be so formal." My father smiled and slightly bowed his head, "Well Victor, I am Daniel Stanford, and you are welcome to stay as long as you please... This is my daughter, Alaska, by the way," I looked up to see the man's hand held out towards me and I shook it gently. "Very nice to meet you Victor." He pulled off his scarf, revealing small pale, pink lips that looked soft to the touch, and a strong jaw. He smiled down at me and I watched as small dimples formed in his cheeks. He looked around his early twenties or so, and for some reason I felt the urge to blush. Dumbfounded, I nodded and smiled back at him, knowing that in some way I was staring at him with a childish look on my face. The look that teenage girls give to cute football players or hot surfers. The googly-eyed look that makes you seem desperate or foolish. I quickly bowed my head, silencing myself; knowing that I had already embarrassed myself enough. "Well how much will it cost?" he asked, taking his hand away from mine slowly. I looked up and stared at my father in disbelief. He gazed at me then back at Victor quickly, and shook his head laughing, "It will cost nothing. You are simply a guest." Victor beamed and shook my father's hand frantically. "Oh thank you sir, thank you so much" My dad laughed, "It's nothing really."

"We live in a four story house, so we have several rooms available for you to choose from. I choose to sleep on the first floor because, well, that means less walking," my dad laughed and Victor joined in with him. He focused on me for a bit then observed my father, "Well where does everyone else sleep? I don't want to bother anyone. I stay up all night writing my novels and typing furiously." My father's eyes widened, "You write?" he studied Victor with interest. "Well, yes. I've written several series. All under the suspense or romance category. I also write poetry." I surveyed Victor, I guessed he was the writer type. He had broad shoulders like a football player, he was tall, and he wore dark shades of color. His sweater velvet and his jeans black. He had dark boots on and in his hand was his black trench coat and his long scarf. His voice was like silk to my ears, and every time he spoke, I could feel the intensity form within my pulse and I was lured in. "Well, to answer your question, Alaska sleeps on the second floor and my son, Trey, sleeps on the first floor as well. No vacancy on the third floor, and well, no one sleeps in the basement," my father winked at me and I just had to giggle.

Victor paused and he held his finger up to his lip, tapping at his lower lip gently. "I will sleep on the second floor, I don't want to be alone on the third. I may break something or cause a fire with these candles, don't want that happening." I peered at him from the corner of my eye as Ella walked in between my legs. "Well alright then, do you have any bags?" my father asked. "Yes, I do actually. I was planning to drive from London to Manchester within one night, due to a job I was offered, but it seems like I won't be able to." He walked back out the door, and within five minutes, he was back in the house with two suitcases in his hand and a messenger bag over his shoulder. I shut the door behind him quickly and wiped some of the snow off his shoulders. "Thank you Alaska," he said, grinning down at me. I didn't answer, instead I took one of his suitcases and led him up the stairs. "Hun, remember to set the table once you are finished helping Victor," my father called up. I heard my brother run down the stairs, stopping to stare at mister Volkard. He looked him up and down and I watched as he became cross and he ran down the staircase screaming, "Why is he here? Why do we have a stranger in the house?" My face flashed red with embarrassment and I turned to look at Victor who seemed to not be effected by my brother's harsh words. "He's... he is only six years old. You have to get used to him." Victor smiled up at me and I continued up the stairs. Finally reaching the second floor, I asked Victor which room he'd like. He picked the one farthest down the hall.

Setting his bags down, I unlocked the door and led him inside. The room was large and had a massive canopy bed in the center, with dark, crimson sheets and a white rug on the floor. A television set was placed against the wall in front of the bed. There was a desk in one of the corners, a dark colored wardrobe, and a couple lamps that sat on desks in empty areas of the room. He smiled and walked over to the desk, setting down his messenger bag, and turned to face me. "I'll take it from here Alaska," the way he said my name made chills travel up and down my spine. I liked the way his accent swallowed my name whole, and made it a whole new sounding. I handed him the key and his fingers lingered on the palm of my hand. Hastily, I walked out of the room and down the stairs, not looking back.

It was time for dinner and I finished setting the table. My father asked me to run up to the second floor and invite Victor down for steak and vegetables. I lingered in the hall, staring at the door before finally knocking on it gently. So gently, I hoped he wouldn't hear it. But once the echo of my second knock faded, the door swung open, and there in a black, fitted sweater and loose dark sweats, stood Victor. "My father was wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner," I said these words so quietly I thought he wouldn't be able to hear me. "I'd love to join," he said, beaming at me. Something about him made me feel uneasy. It gave me the odd, indecisive feeling. I wanted to flee down the stairs and hide behind my father, but then I wanted to hug him and join him in his bedroom. Victor looked at me with enticing eyes. It seemed impossible for someone his age to be interested in an eighteen year old girl like myself, but then again I might have been wrong, which I usually am.

I headed back down the stairs and sat at the table, waiting for Victor to appear. Trey, waiting impatiently, stared at the food and whined every time his stomach growled. I couldn't disagree with my brother though, because I was starving as well, but it is always polite to wait for the guest before starting a meal. At last, Victor appeared in the dining room and sat across from me and beside my father. We bowed our heads in prayer, and after muttering amen, Trey instantly looked up, took his knife, and stabbed at his steak. Victor watched him with eager interest and laughed each time Trey would make a monster noise after his bite of steak. I sat in silence and continued to feed on my dinner, not peering up at Victor, afraid that my eyes would meet his.

My father continued his small talk with Victor, when Trey began to whine about his broccoli not being soft enough and his steak not being the right pink. "It looks like it's time for bed son," my father wiped his mouth hastily with his napkin and stood up slowly, silently grunting as he arched his back. Trey cried out even louder, refusing to go to bed and refusing to leave me with Victor. "No, he will hurt Alaska, I must protect her!" he continued to scream as my father held him over his shoulder and walk down the hall to my brother's bedroom. Once I heard the click of the door, I glanced up at Victor and gave him a weak smile. It felt odd to smile again, it was something I haven't done in ages. He did the same and bowed his head, continuing to pick at his vegetables. I looked away foolishly, the awkward silence making me even more uncomfortable than I already had been. "Alaska," he spoke softly, "how is school?" I smiled, amused with his attempt to start a conversation about something I barely liked speaking about. "School is school. Same old drama, same old teachers, and same old work," I rose to my feet and carried my plate to the kitchen. I heard Victor clink his fork on his plate. A scraping sound from the chair echoed into the kitchen, and I could hear him groan. Feeling stupid, I walked back to the dining room to apologize. I found Victor with his hands covering his face and his body slightly arched over the table. "Victor, I'm sorry, I never meant to give you any attitude. It's just been a.. a long day," I picked at the piece of linen that unraveled from my sweater. "Alaska, this has nothing to do with you, I mean my agitation that is," he looked up at me and gave a smile, reassuring me that everything was okay between us. I still didn't believe him and chose to take the seat that sat beside his.

"I think it's about time for me to go to bed as well, I