The Marriage Contract by Tara Ahmed Page A

should be a sense getter instead, because that little dialogue you just gave- made zero sense. I’m not holding your hand, so just take me to wherever we have to go, so this engagement mess can be fixed! I’m so freaking confused, and I’ve got a few questions to ask you, so quit wasting both of our time, and let’s go!”
                  His usual happy go lucky expression, darkened, as a trace of anger hit his eyes. He looked irritated, as he stared down at me, his mouth clenched tightly. He took a step towards me, staring at me with a fiery passion- his nostrils flaring. He looked more like Richard than himself.
                  My brows rose, as he extended his hand towards me, as though ready to snatch me away whether I liked it or not. As I stared into his zealous eyes, I felt my heart begin to race, as he closed our space, his body only inches away from mine.
                  Then, as though waking from a dream, his lower lip began to quiver, as he let out an explosive laugh. He laughed, and laughed, for what felt like minutes, as I stared at him, more confused than annoyed.
                  “You were so serious,” he sputtered. “I swear! I love acting like my stiff brother who always has a stick up his you know where. Wow, that was….that was so funny—“
                  “You’re a child!” I snapped. “Can we go? Please? Honestly, you’re just wasting time—“
                  “What is time?” He asked. “If you ask Shakespeare, he’d tell you that time is but a rose in a painter’s dream, eternally alive. And if you ask me--”
                  “Save it,” I said. “I really don’t want to know.”
                  He pouted, feigning hurt.
                  I sighed, staring at him as though something smelled bad. Hesitating, I extended my hand towards him, knowing that he could probably stand in one spot for hours, talking nonsense. Though time was eternal for him, it was not for me. I would grow old one day, and have only my memories to look back on. But he, being rich and possibly powerful someday, would live an eternal life, with those speaking of him even after his passing. Time truly was eternal for him, but for me, every second mattered, and I did not want to waste those seconds arguing with him.
                  His gaze fell to my hand, which rested between us, like a branch sticking out of an oak. His dark brown eyes, brightened, as he smiled a winning smile, his warm palm circling over mine.
                  As soon as our hands touched, a sudden spark flushed down my neck- my heart skipping a beat. I shivered, shaking my head and deciding it was just my nerves acting up. After all, stalker photographers were following my every move.
                  Flicking my gaze to James, my eyes dropped to our intertwined hands.
                  “Don’t squeeze it,” I warned. “Hold it lightly, and no weird finger movements either--”
                  “Got it,” he said. “Now, you see that church behind us? We’ve got to run in before the stalkerazzi’s can reach the door. Be sure to close every window. Don’t question it, just do it—“
                  “But—“
                  “On the count of three,” he continued, ignoring my protest. “One—“
                  “Now, wait a minute,” I began. “You can’t just—“
                  “Two—“
                  “James, this is a bad idea,” I said. “I really don’t think—“
                  “Three!”
                  Crap.
                  We turned, and though I should have pulled apart from him, asking a million questions, I didn’t. Deciding to ask questions later, I followed his lead, running towards the tall open doors of the church, and