I punched him. If Alpha was present in the room, she would have jumped on me and removed my head. I was horrified as a trail of blood flowed down the corner of his mouth. Couldn't I control myself? Where did I get the guts from? I just cut short my life.
My breath stuck in my throat. I stayed still and stiff. I waited, waited for him to decide the outcome of my act. All possibilities of what were laying ahead of me would end in terror. Though it calmed my nerves. He had been on my nerves for some time. He deserved it. Even he knew that since he didn't hit me back. Instead he stood silent, peering down at me with eyes which held such strong emotion, a color of blood tinged his ears. He dashed into the bathroom.
Relieved.
Annoying virgin.
No. Gay is better.
My hand moved to my chest. My heart was still beating so fast.
Making pancakes to shift my attention was a good idea. I made a complete mess of a pancake like shapeless liquid when I smelt a musky radiant. His hair was messy with bangs falling in front. He was wearing a white long sleeve shirt for once with his sports trousers. It amazed me how good and attractive he actually looked. I thought mafias look mostly like Gasper. But this man seems like a clean freak. A bruise was visible at the corner of his mouth. I felt proud. Though I couldn't ignore the fear that choked me of my senses.
I looked away quickly and handed him a cup of coffee. My signature coffee, americano. It was too hot to drink, yet he still took a sip. I took notice of his tattoos on his right arm. Was it compulsory that all leaders should have tattoos printed on their bodies? He couldn't even compliment the coffee. I was good enough to make coffee for him. Or else who makes coffee for his captor. And who allows his prey to roam around freely!
I was already frustrated from today's event and the failed pancakes that when I asked him to get me some clothes, he resorted to his annoying ways of threatening people, my anger reached its peak. He seriously started to piss me off. No sooner, a visible frown on his forehead. He actually wanted me to keep wearing his clothes. What about underwear? It's so unhygienic and disgusting to wear his boxers. Once was enough.
I couldn't help rolling my eyes. My hands wrapped around my cup too quickly. A little bit of coffee laped over the edge. It burnt my skin. I put the cup back on the table. But while doing so, my elbow pushed his coffee. The liquid spilled all over the table right into the direction of his shirt. Within a split of a second, the smell of the coffee overpowered his radiant which I had just inhaled. His shirt absorbed the coffee, forming a huge ugly brown stain.
"I didn't mean to-" I blurted out.
I didn't realize how panicked I sounded. He must be in pain provided that it burnt my fingers as well. He seemed not the slightest affected by the hot liquid on him. He had even taken a sip of the liquid earlier. Had he scarred his tongue as well?
He lifted his shirt over his head. His arms had many more tattoos than I expected, scattered along his left shoulder and right hip, leaving his silver necklace cascading down his chest with some old scars. I lowered my gaze to his stomach. He shifted his gaze as he noticed I was staring at the scalded patch on it. The guilt was starting to build up.
"Shit" he cursed but still no pain was visible on his face nor in his voice.
Was he numb? Meanwhile, the butler entered the space.
"Where is the first aid kit?"I asked him.
"Where is it?"I repeated more sternly.
He pointed towards the small drawer behind me. As I took the kit in my hands, searching for silvadex cream, I began to question what I was doing. But then the next moment I recalled how he saved me that day right on time. He was still the reason I was in that cell opposite that monster. But he brought me to his room for whatever reason he had in his head. Otherwise I could be rotting in that cold cell right now. My wounds were treated well. This will make us even. I handed him the cream.
"Apply this cream. It won't be scarred if you apply it again later"
"Why do you care?" He took a step backward.
"Trust me, I don't care even if you burn in hell"
He didn't respond and threw the cream on the table. As he attempted to walk past me, I grabbed his arm. Since we were close, I could notice terrible cutting carvings on the back of his arm admist the tattoos. My heart clenched at the sight. I got hold of the cream again.
"Because I gave you this pain, I care" I said as Noah joined the scene.
"Let him be Sef. I'll do it" Noah said.
Michaelson scoffed and jerked me away abruptly. I stumbled but balanced my footing right away with my anger returning. I was more pissed off than before. What is with him? His eyes, blazing with anger, he stared at me while I glared at him. What does he think of himself? Here I was, with a cream to apply on his burn.
"Fuck off" He spat.
"Can't you see I'm just trying to help you?" I shouted back.
"I need no help. Just go and do what you are best at, whoring around"
Feeling brave and annoyed, I let out a laugh as the three pairs of eyes looked at me, questioningly. I felt the tears pricking my eyes as my hands shook with anger. I pushed him hard, placing the cream back on the table. He wasn't worth my help. Every effort of mine was never appreciated by anyone. I hated the effect people had on me. Though I always kept a stern cold face, it affected me. And he had just proved that I was not immune. Surely, he had minimal and trivial effect. But, it was still effective. I didn't spill the coffee on purpose. And I was feeling guilty.
Why do I have to deal with his attitude? I don't care if the burn would leave a scar or whatever. Asshole. I walked out of the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" I heard his voice behind me.
I pray when he wakes up in the morning, he looks like those mummies due to the burns. I headed towards the stairs.
"Watch out" he held me by placing a hand on my waist behind me as he pulled me closer to his body, grabbing my wrist.
As I was pulled suddenly, a gasp escaped my lips. I noticed the thin string hanging down two feet away from me, around ten centimeters up the floor. To explode everything if he was caught or enemies' attack. Or did it serve for other purposes. The gangsters always have backup plans in mind. I removed his hand away from my waist and parted away from him. He stood in front of me, his tall frame blocking me. I glared up at him. A flash of confusion and guilt flashed in his eyes before he opened his mouth.
"Are you angry at me?" he asked so carefully as he released my wrist out of his grip.
Whatever I do, be angry or sad, what is it to him? Didn't he just call me a whore while I was feeling guilty for the state of his skin? I attempted to walk past him.
"Don't walk away while I'm still talking to you" he grabbed my arm way too strongly.
I yanked my arm out of his grip. I knew I couldn't stand to be around him.
"But I'm done here"
"There's a room down here where you can get stuff you need" he said.
What the hell was wrong with him? I couldn't decipher his expressions. He was just being a mean jerk some seconds ago.
"The second door on the right in the corridor"
"Thanks"I glared at him, arching an eyebrow.
"They were not meant for you"his gaze and his voice softened.
My ears twitched when I heard his tender voice.
"You are not a whore. I neither told you to fuck off nor I see you as a whore"
I never expected him to explain his actions to me. So, to whom were his words directed to then? Arnold or Noah? He seemed to not like Noah. I fixed my gaze on him with a somewhat confused look.
Suddenly, he pulled out his arm and held my hand softly.
"Come with me"
Just pull me already. What's with this fake manners?
He turned around and waited for me to approach him before he started walking. His back was free of ink but there were some old scars. I followed him to the kitchen. I sat where I was previously seated. Noah and Arnold eyed us curiously. The latter already cleaned the table while the former was fidgeting with the packet of chips in his hand.
"Leave" he looked at the two men.
They did right away. I removed my hand from his.
"Give me your hand"
I was dumbfounded.
"Please"
Michaelson's voice was still so gentle that I almost choked on my breath. He was requesting me. I placed my right hand on his.
"Left one"
He lifted my hand softly to his face and applied the silvadex cream on my finger. I had yet to come to my senses. He was still bare-chested. I didn't realize I was staring at him until he suddenly let go of my hand.
"Drink your coffee while I make breakfast"
I was still in a daze. I knew it. Something has definitely not been fine with him since I punched him.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Won't you apply the cream on your skin?"
"Later. Maybe some porridge"he looked at me questioningly.
I nodded.
Can this man cook? I tilted my head to look at him as he washed his hands. He put rice grains in a big utensil and filled two bowls of water into it. Stirring the rice grains with a clean spoon, he closed the lid. He lifted his eyes to me.
"Do you want yours plain?"
He was talking too much today.
I simply shook my head.
He put the utensil on the electric stove and proceeded to the refrigerator. He took out potatoes, eggs and some vegetables. He skillfully scraped off the skin of the potatoes after washing them thoroughly and cut them into thin shreds. He was really good with knives. Then, he placed them aside in cold water. He picked up the lid and checked how the porridge was being cooked by stirring it with the spoon. He decreased the temperature of the porridge, putting back the lid. Then, he took out a large bowl and mixed the right amount of seasonings.
I took two sips of the americano. I never thought that I would one day admire a high profile criminal making breakfast for me. He cracked the eggs. He then washed the spinach. His concentration level while he cooked was admirable. He washed each leaf well. My gaze followed his every movement till he gave a fleeting satisfactory smile at his prepared dishes.
He enjoyed making food. I understood that cooking was his me time. Would he have become a cook if he wasn't the crime lord? My imagination was indeed exceptional. With those earrings and piercing on his eyebrow including the tattoos, how would he look like as a chef? He would seduce all his clients by the end of the day.
Though the dishes looked beautiful and not burnt, I was worried about their taste.
"Praying again?"he sighed, bored.
I tried the egg rolls first since they were the safest option. It was tender and well seasoned. So well made. I was surprised. Yet, even I can cook such easy dish. I stared at the texture of the porridge and lifted my spoon to eat it. My eyes widened in surprise as I tasted the porridge. I never knew he was this amazing in cooking. He cooked even way better than Arnold. If I knew he would turn out to be a gifted cook, I would have already tasted his other dishes. I increased my eating speed and finished everything in my bowl.
"You can eat mine too"he chuckled.
All this time, he ate only an egg roll. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he left the kitchen without glancing back.